Hey, I’ve been really enjoying getting to know you. You seem awesome and I’d love the chance to talk more, maybe somewhere where it’s just the two of us. Do you wanna get out of here? I live, like, a block away.

It’ll be nice for us to shift to a more intimate location, don’t you think? Somewhere we don’t have to think about all these people staring at us and deciding whether I’m “guilty” or “innocent.” When I was called up to testify earlier, I was like, guys, really? I’m in the middle of a conversation with a beautiful woman!

You have this certain aura about you, and I find myself drawn in. I want to know everything. Where did you grow up? What’s your favorite color? When did you decide to become a criminal defense attorney? I feel like we should go somewhere a little more private where we can chat—perhaps while the courtroom deliberates. I have a nice bottle of sauvignon blanc that I’ve been saving for a special occasion, like no longer being on trial for insider trading, but now I’m thinking I’d rather share it with the pretty girl defending me in a court of law!

God, I hope this stupid thing wraps up soon. I didn’t even want to come in the first place, I was so tired and planning on staying in. But I’m glad I showed up because we got to hang out, and if you want to leave early and head to mine, I’d totally be down. You can bring all your stuff, too, so you don’t have to worry about coming back for it later. I’ll make sure your bag and your notes and your evidence stay nice and secure. I have a safe in my apartment with a crazy security system; you just have to promise not to peek at what else is in there!

Ugh, it’s annoying that the judge is making you cross-examine that witness. Like, I don’t know why he’s having you talk to my former business partner, who thinks I’m a grade-A asshole. It’s not my fault things get messy in the finance world! Just because Josh got screwed over doesn’t mean I did anything illegal, like cheat him out of millions of dollars and lie about it for years. He’s really rubbing me the wrong way, to be honest, which makes me feel like we should probably get out of here soon, if you want?

I totally get your hesitancy, like, obviously you’re at work. If you’re not into it, or if you don’t date coworkers, that’s completely cool. But also, is it possible your first impression of me has been tainted by what everyone else is saying? Because that’s mostly gossip, and I wouldn’t want it to influence what we have. Sure, everyone’s claiming I ruined them financially, and one guy even said I threatened him into complying with an illicit market manipulation scheme. Even the jury seems stacked against me; I see the way they avoid eye contact. Hell, they won’t even tell me their names!

None of that matters, though. If you’re able to ignore all the noise and listen to your heart, what’s it telling you? Mine’s telling me that you should come over, during or after this whole shebang.

Look, I know it’s a gamble to admit how I’m feeling, and I know the bailiff might physically restrain me if I try to leave, but I like you, okay? I feel like I can tell you anything, and not just because of the confidentiality clause in our attorney-client contract. Acquittal is only fun if you have someone to share it with, and conviction is only manageable if there’s a warm memory—maybe one that takes place in my apartment down the block—to look back on during your sentence. I’m not saying I’m a perfect man, but if I’m guilty for anything, it’s for wanting to get you back to my place.