Civic Duty

FROM THE AUTHOR

"Finding traction for Civic Duty took longer than usual. The story idea came immediately after I finished watching the show Jury Duty, and I thought that having such a clear picture of what was going to complicate the relationship would make the rest of the story a breeze. The first challenge was finding someone to help me make the courtroom believable. I’d talked to several lawyers and brainstormed all sorts of ideas for the fake case being argued and was still stuck in a place where I couldn’t even start writing when I met Jennifer and set up a phone conversation. I admitted to her that all of my previous books have had at least one scene with horses and joked that maybe the problem with the story was that it had no horses. “Why can’t the case be something to do with horses?” That magic question gave me the piece I needed to get started, and I am just tickled with the scenes my trusty horse friends helped to create. I hope that you enjoy their contributions, too."

—Laina Villeneuve

Chapter One

Alex

“My bailiff has advised me that the jury has reached a verdict. Who was elected foreman of the jury?” Judge Court asks with an air of indifference. She seems more concerned about how her black robes are arranged than the fact that we are about to close the case.

I raise my hand. “I was elected foreperson, Your Honor.”

“Foreperson.” She assesses me over the rim of her dark-framed reading glasses. Despite the pounding of my heart, I stand a little taller, waiting for her to chastise me for correcting her. She doesn’t. Instead, she seems to be holding back a smile. “My apologies. Have you reached a verdict?”

“Yes we have, Your Honor,” I say, trying to project confidence that does not come naturally to me.

“Please hand the verdict form to the bailiff.”

I’m happy with the verdict I hand to the bailiff. I am savoring the feeling that justice is about to be served. I am satisfied that the jury has served its purpose but avoid looking at either the plaintiff or the defendant. I can’t figure out where to focus my attention as I wait for the bailiff to return our verdict. I glance at Vicki, and she gives me a reassuring smile. So do Sarah and the other members of the jury. Are they avoiding looking at the plaintiff and defendant as well? It sure feels like all the attention is on me. It’s everything I can do to keep myself still.

Finally, the bailiff returns the paper, and the judge asks me to read the verdict.

“We the jury, in the case of Aschbran versus Menjivar, render the following verdict. To the question of a legal contract with a noncompetition clause existing between the parties, we find that there was no legal contract. Therefore, there can be no breach of contract and no damages, financial or emotional.”

From the corner of my eye, I see the defendant grab her lawyer’s hand. I can sense her relief from where I stand in the jury box. She looks stunned. Her lawyer leans forward to whisper in her ear and the defendant throws her arms around her, tears streaming down her face. The plaintiff is arguing with his lawyer, but the judge is smiling hugely. She regards me as though we’ve done the right thing with our verdict.

Are judges allowed to show such emotion?

I’m about to sit to wait for our next instruction when Judge Court motions for me to keep standing. “Just a moment, Juror Eleven.” She shuffles through the papers in front of her. “Alexandria Verita.”

“Yes,” I say. Am I in trouble here? The air in the courtroom crackles with tension. She’s no longer smiling, and the delay is as painful as the dramatic pause reality TV shows use before they eliminate a contestant.

“You said this was your first experience serving on a jury.”

“I did.”

She removes her glasses, carefully folds them, and sets them on the bench. “I didn’t mention it as the trial started, but this is my first experience as a judge.”

I cock my head in confusion. Why is she telling me this?

“You see, while you believed you were being filmed for a documentary about what it is like to serve on a jury, the subject of this show is really you.”

I don’t understand and glance from defendant to plaintiff to bailiff to my fellow jurors.

“Every person in this room is an actor. None of what we have done this week was real. The case was fictitious. The lawyers? Actors. The courthouse? Well, it was a courthouse once, but it has not seen a real case in years.”

I’m starting to feel lightheaded, but I’m acutely aware of the cameras that are filming. I know they are trained on me. I hiccup from the shock of what I am trying to ignore. I turn to the jury, these people I’ve grown so close to over the course of the week, in hopes they will help me grasp what the judge means.

“Actors,” Judge Court says as my eyes land on Vicki.

“Actor?” I whisper, barely able to vocalize the word. I’m having trouble breathing, and my vision is starting to narrow. Sarah is suddenly next to me and encouraging me to sit. Vicki tries to take my hand, and I snatch it away. I can’t speak, but I want more answers. How is this show about me?

“And though none of this proceeding was real, humanity was on trial this week. We live in a time of apathy. People draw conclusions of innocence and guilt largely based on appearance, yet you rejected that. Your keen attention to detail kept our writers on their toes as they scripted the court case.”

The lawyers are smiling at me now, but I have no control over the muscles in my face to smile in return. My instinct is to run from the building, away from everyone watching me, but I am stuck in the jury box. I’ve seen reality TV. They’re waiting for me to laugh and join in this revelation. The judge keeps talking about my amazing leadership of the jury, but I’m stuck on how none of it was real. Sarah Cooper is real. I’ve listened to her podcast. Read her book. But Vicki… She’s an actress?

You lied, I mouth at Vicki.

“Alex,” she says so quietly.

My name on her lips is a punch in my gut, and I push myself to my feet, the echo of her whispered Alex ringing in my ears.

“She hasn’t gotten to the best part,” Vicki says, trying to take my hand again, trying to hold me in place. I step out of her reach. If she touches me, I will lose it. My heart is hammering so hard it’s difficult to catch my breath.

I try to focus on what Judge Court is saying, but it’s like her words scramble and float around the room instead of traveling to my ears and brain. Everyone is applauding and cheering, and I can’t. I scan the room, desperate to ground myself. Sarah appears next to me and asks if I’m okay.

“I need to get out of here.”

Without another word, she has her hands on my shoulders, guiding me past the other jurors and out of the courtroom. I worry I’m letting everyone down, but I can’t stay in the room a second longer.

Women Using Words
Civic Duty by Laina Villeneuve is a well-crafted and engaging romance. By prioritizing character complexity, emotional realism, and meaningful conflict, Villeneuve avoids the clichés often associated with the reality TV romance trope. Instead, she delivers a story that is funny, thoughtful, and deeply grounded. Readers looking for a romance that offers more than just fluff will find Civic Duty refreshingly captivating and worthwhile.

goodreads
Fiona S. - Civic Duty was a fantastic read that I would highly recommend due to its ability to gives us much food for thought.