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Another attorney at the table chuckled. “Now, now, Scott. This is social. When we’re out of the courtroom, we can all get along, right?”

Scott’s expression said it all, even though he laughed along with everyone else, but he insisted she switch seats. He made a great show of flinging his arm around her shoulders and kissing her. I was certain at the time she had turned her head slightly, so the kiss fell on her cheek rather than her mouth. I studiously ignored Scott the rest of the evening, although I found my glance fixated on Fiona on occasion.

She spoke little to anyone else and seemed uncomfortable and anxious, as if she felt out of her depth. On occasion, a pained looked crossed her face, and I wondered if Scott’s behavior embarrassed her. I recall thinking she looked out of place beside him—almost too gentle to be associated with him. I wondered then how she could stand to live with someone so unscrupulous—unless she was cut from the same cloth. I knew all too well that appearan