5 Three’s Company

Edgeworth already had his phone to his ear as he called LA Prime and made reservations for three for 8:30. The person on the phone hemmed and hawed initially about the 11th-hour phone request, as it was already 8:00. However, they hurried to say that they would be enchanted to see him and that they would give him the ‘usual table’ once they heard who he was, and said there would be no issues if their party was casually dressed.

The prosecutor reached his car and hesitated slightly. Even though he knew he’d gotten the restaurant’s preferential treatment because of his name and clout, he was still loath to further milk things by showing up unfittingly dressed at such a swanky dining establishment. After all, he did have a certain image to maintain.

That, and he refused to show up undressed at his regular locale, only to have his courtroom rival show him up by actually being appropriately dressed for the occasion since Phoenix was actually in a suit! Which, Edgeworth noted coolly, had completely dried, and bared no residual stains whatsoever as evidence from the earlier soda mishap.

Naturally. Didn’t Phoenix Wright always manage to make things turnabout in his favor? He scowled at the thought.

Edgeworth popped open his trunk and swiftly retrieved his ever-present garment bag, which held his extra suit. Luckily, footwear wouldn’t be an issue, as he’d worn loafers with his jeans.

“Please excuse me a moment,” he told his friends, unlocking the doors so they could get in. “I’m just going to change really quickly. The restaurant is only 15 minutes away, so we needn’t worry about missing our reservation.”

“Hey, you mean you guys are both going to be in suits, and I’m going to be the only one dressed like a bum, then?” Maya complained. “That’s not fair!”

“I checked with them, Maya, and trust me, it’s fine if we’re casual. It’s just…” Edgeworth hesitated. “I frequent the place often, and take very high profile clientele there, so I’d just be more comfortable if…”

“Don’t worry, Edgeworth, we get it,” Phoenix sneered. “You don’t want the snooty folks at your uppity, posh joint seeing you underdressed because God only knows what they’d think of you if you walked in not dressed to the nines!” He clapped a hand dramatically over his mouth in mock dismay. “Oh! The humanity! It would simply tarnish your sterling reputation!”

Having no idea how to rebut the not entirely untrue, albeit completely obnoxious statement, Edgeworth merely glared at the defense attorney, who flashed an impish grin in return.

Why must he make me seem like such an appalling snob? It’s not my fault I prefer to keep the dignity of my office – even when I’m not at the office!  Is it?

He turned on his heel and stalked back to the theatre, all the while muttering angrily to himself. Thanks to Wright, Maya now probably thought he was going to be ashamed to be seen with her because of her informal attire, which couldn’t have been further from the truth.

In actuality, he thought Maya had never looked more adorable. He’d found the formfitting street clothes, instead of her loose acolyte robes, now gave him a glimpse of how Mother Nature was turning her into a budding beauty indeed; one that would soon rival her late older sister.

Edgeworth scowled in the bathroom mirror as he straightened his cravat. He’d better hurry up and get back to the two – God only knew what foolish thoughts Wright was whispering in Maya’s ear in his absence!

He saw that Phoenix and Maya were still standing outside the car as he approached. He could only make out bits and pieces of what the other man was fervently trying to convey as his voice kept getting drowned out by all the cars arriving for the Friday night late shows.

“I swear to you, Maya, there is no Tiffany, you’ve got to believe me!” Phoenix insisted desperately, looking absolutely miserable.

Maya just stood there with her arms crossed, a skeptical look on her face.

“Don’t you think if I was dating someone you’d have known about her by now?” He hollered plaintively. “I mean, you and I live together!”

“You don’t have to lie to me Nick,” she sniffed, trying to appear indifferent, although the hurt was still evident in her eyes. “I told you, I don’t care one way or another anyway!”

Edgeworth felt a stab of guilt at his part in this particular misunderstanding. He needed to remedy this. After all, in the end, Wright would make himself look like a big enough fool, allowing Maya to see for herself who the better man for her was; he shouldn’t have to win this battle with pretenses.

“Wright’s never been one to lie, Maya,” he inserted, clearing his throat. “He’s terrible at it, as you very well know. It may have just been the wrong number.”

“Boy, that was quick!” Rather than look pleased that Edgeworth had come to his defense, Phoenix scowled at him, as though annoyed at the interruption of their conversation. “Who are you, Superman or something? Didja just go to a phone booth and rip off your jeans and happen to have that pink suit and frilly, fluttery napkin thingie on underneath?”

Well, that’s gratitude for you! See if I play defense attorney for you ever again Wright! Fine, let her stay mad at you for some phantom, non-existent female!

“If I were a superhero, I wouldn’t be about to divulge my secret identity to you of all people now, would I, Wright?” Edgeworth eyed his rival coldly. “And for the thousandth time, my suit is not pink, it’s magenta! And you know very well this thingie, as you so eloquently put it, is called a cravat!”

Phoenix shrugged. “Whatever. We ready to roll?”

Edgeworth glowered as he got behind the wheel and the other two climbed inside and swallowed back a chuckle as Phoenix began sneezing the minute he got in the backseat.

They were almost at the main doors of the Bonaventure Hotel, where LA Prime was located when Maya stopped suddenly and hesitated outside the entrance, a disheartened expression on her face as she regarded the two men.

“You guys look so nice compared to me!” She groaned, looking extremely self-conscious and distressed as she cast another glance at the lawyers and then down at her fan-girl accouterments. “I wish I could have changed too! Wait, at least I can do this much…”

Without further preamble, she undid her ponytail, took off her baseball cap, and gave her head a shake. An avalanche of ebony hair tumbled out of her hat in silky waves, cascading around her shoulders and framing her perfect features, while the rest went spilling down her back, down to her waist, like an inky waterfall.

Both men stared, transfixed.

Edgeworth hadn’t ever seen Maya’s hair down before, as he was so accustomed to seeing it in its usual semi topknot with beads. But never, in his whole life, had he ever seen hair like hers.

Black strands cascaded down Maya’s back like molten onyx. Around her face, it was cut a little shorter, feathered layers to accentuate her exquisite visage and sparkling mahogany eyes. Then she shot him a smile that could light up the night and he realized right then and there why Phoenix had been acting so jealous and possessive the entire evening and seemed so worried about Edgeworth ‘stealing’ his assistant away from him.

Because on top of being plucky, fun-loving, and witty as hell…the prosecutor, at last, realized something his rival must have acknowledged ages ago.

Maya Fey was absolutely beautiful.

She had a kind of understated, natural beauty, perhaps because she was so disarmingly unaware of her prettiness. Her porcelain skin was completely flawless. He doubted she used face masks or expensive products; that really wasn’t her. She was all about simplicity, making things easy, helping those around her to relax and be happy with what they had. Perhaps that was why her skin glowed so; it was her inner beauty that lit her eyes and softened her features. When she smiled and laughed you couldn’t help but do the same, even if it was just on the inside. To be in her company was to feel that you too, were someone, that you had been warmed in summer rays regardless of the season.

Edgeworth slid his admiring gaze away for a split second to catch the defense attorney’s reaction, and caught the unmistakable smitten look in his eyes he wasn’t quick enough to conceal. It startled him, although, in hindsight, it really shouldn’t have.

This isn’t just a game for Wright. He’s head over heels in love with her.

Edgeworth didn’t know why he wasn’t more surprised at the realization. Up until that moment, it had all just been a game, a friendly duel for the hand of the fair maiden. But it was more than that now. There were real feelings … hearts on the line.

And if he knew Phoenix Wright, and exactly how much of a fool the other man could be when it came to women, Edgeworth was willing to bet his bottom dollar that he had discovered how Wright felt about Maya before the other man himself even had!

The prosecutor couldn’t claim he felt the same ardor Wright himself did for the comely young woman, that was true, but he certainly liked her enough. What man wouldn’t? Maya was always so full of exuberance and was exhilaratingly silly. However, when the chips were down, steadfast and loyal, like when she’d helped him when he was on trial for murder. She was so much fun to be around, and overall good company. He certainly couldn’t fault Wright for the way he felt.

What Edgeworth could fault him for was being either too obtuse to realize it, or too cowardly to admit it!

He was still brooding about this as they walked into the lobby, and were told the restaurant was on the 35th floor and that the main elevator would take them up.

Oh good Lord, the elevator …

Edgeworth’s heart sank as he glanced at his watch. It was 8:22. They had a table reservation in exactly 8 minutes.

He’d been so distracted by the shenanigans that evening that it had completely eluded him, as he’d loftily commented how Wright knew of such an upscale locale, of just where said place was.

Yes, he’d been there countless times, but always met the company he’d be dining with at the location, never arriving with them. And always arriving early and before they got there.

So he could have a head start taking the stairs up!

He caught the smug look on Phoenix’s face and gritted his teeth. So this was why he’d suggested the place! Edgeworth’s phobia of elevators was no secret. Phoenix had undoubtedly been hoping he would either pass out like a complete pansy in front of Maya or be a dripping sponge if he took the stairs up and be most undesirable company afterward!

That sadistic son of a…

Edgeworth wouldn’t let himself finish the thought. After all, since Phoenix didn’t know that he’d been the one to orchestrate the calamity with the behemoth woman, this petty revenge scheme had undoubtedly only been thought up as retaliation for getting kicked out of the theatre.

Which, come to think of it, Phoenix honestly had been all too eager to abandon and hadn’t seemed upset about in the slightest…

Phoenix and Maya stepped into the crowded elevator and looked expectantly at him, waiting for him to shove his way inside.

While Edgeworth wouldn’t have minded getting a bit closer to the appealing Maya in such close quarters, with the way things had been going that night, he’d undoubtedly get sandwiched up against Wright instead! And then, no doubt, the defense attorney would loudly and embarrassingly announce it to the entire lift:

Edgeworth, I  told you at the theater, I’m not gay! So, get your hand off my ass!

“You two go ahead,” Edgeworth shooed his friends away with the wave of his hand. “There are too many people in there. I er…shall check the next one instead.”

“Whatever you say, Edgeworth,” Phoenix smirked as the doors started to close and shot him a wink—he was going to have Maya all to himself.

It was this infuriating thought that drove Edgeworth to sprint up those 35 flights of stairs in Olympic Gold Medalist record time, pausing only for a split second to dab his slightly damp brow with a handkerchief and smoothing his hair into place before making the final climb.

He was standing there, barely winded, beside the maître d’hôtel stand, his most shit-eating grin in place as the elevator doors opened at exactly 8:30.

Phoenix and Maya stepped out, the latter beaming prettily at the sight of him, the former bearing the same expression he wore in court when he was frazzled. He looked down at his watch, then back at Edgeworth, his eyes the size of saucers.

“Edgeworth!? What the –? How? When?”

“Surprised, Wright?” It was Edgeworth’s turn to smirk. “I’ll bet you didn’t know that my office is not only on the 12th floor, but I live in the penthouse condo suite…on the 30th floor. I’m no stranger to stairs.”

“No…” Phoenix answered faintly, still looking completely gobsmacked. “I guess I didn’t.”

Edgeworth tapped his temple. “Never underestimate me, Wright. I’m always going to be two steps ahead.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Thighs of Steel,” Phoenix grimaced. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“OK, Nick, don’t talk about Miles’ thighs, it’s freakin’ weird!” Maya exclaimed, completely unaware of the underlying context of the conversation. “And Miles, don’t encourage him.”

Edgeworth wasn’t sure if he was mollified or mortified by her attempt to placate things.

“Shall we dine?” He said, at last, extending his arm to Maya and nodding at the man behind the podium. “Table for three under Miles Edgeworth.”

“Right away, Mr. Edgeworth,” the host beamed, bowing slightly as he guided them to their table, Edgeworth and Maya arm in arm, with Phoenix reluctantly trailing behind them.

The place was definitely not the kind of place one got a table on impulse. Large mullioned windows, long embroidered curtains, dark walnut tables, atop which sat crisply white linen tablecloths with gleaming silverware. Flowers on each table, delicate live piano music, flagstone tile floor, lounge area with embroidered couches, oval coffee tables with splendidly proportioned cabriole legs, tea served from silver trays in white teapots.

Best of all was the spectacular panoramic view of the city lights below them, viewable from any table, the bright lights lit up like sparkling jewels, which were only rivaled by the twinkle of Maya’s eyes as they were seated at their round window-side table.

“It’s so pretty!” She squealed, clasping her hands delightedly like an excited child. “I can’t believe how high up we are! The view is unbelievable, isn’t it Nick?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty,” Phoenix replied distractedly, his eyes frantically scanning the leather-bound menus they’d been handed and turning a decidedly pale color as he looked at the prices. “Er, Maya, do you want to um, split an appetizer with me?”

“Nick! I’m starved!” Maya cried, apparently forgetting that she’d eaten half a concession stand barely two hours ago. “And this is probably one of these fancy places that give you baby-sized portions which wouldn’t even fill up a toddler! Why can’t you just order your own food and ask for a doggy bag if you can’t finish it?”

“Um, because I don’t know if a fancy place like this does doggy bags, Maya.” Phoenix awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “Besides, I ate a lot of popcorn at the theatre, you know, before I got the boot…and I’m not that hungry…”

There it was again, that twinge of conscience. Edgeworth sighed. He knew the other man was lying. They’d barely been in the theatre half an hour before Sir Blue Knight had so gallantly offered to leave the theatre so that his rival, along with the woman he palpably loved, could be happy and enjoy the movie.

It was a heroic move, and all it had gotten the man was getting stuck at a restaurant he couldn’t afford and having to beg his clueless glutton of an assistant to get the hint and split an appetizer with him, more due to his inability to handle the cost, rather than the amount, of food.

Edgeworth knew what the right thing to do was. Whether or not Wright accepted the offer was entirely up to him, but at the very least, he knew it would gain his favor in Maya’s eyes.

“Wright, Maya, please order whatever you want.” He cleared his throat. “And don’t worry about the price. It’s on me.”

“That’s so sweet of you!” Maya beamed, clapping her hands. “Which is a good thing because I’m hungry enough to eat a horse, and I don’t feel like sharing!” She looked pointedly at the man seated on her left. “Isn’t that nice of Miles, Nick?”

“Yeah, it is,” Phoenix mumbled, looking doubtfully at the prosecutor’s face, as if to see if there was a catch to the offer, and finding none, flashed a genuine smile for the first time. “Thanks, Edgeworth! Maybe I’ll have some room for an entrée after all! Hmmm…hey look they have lobster as an appetizer!”

No good deed goes unpunished. Edgeworth groaned inwardly. It’s a fortunate thing I have a tab here…I don’t think I have enough cash left in my wallet after that concession excursion. Good God man! How does Wright afford this woman?

He had already decided on the escargot in shell, with maître de butter, and ciabatta for dipping for an appetizer when Maya suddenly looked up with a frown.

“There’s no burgers on this menu!”

“Maya, it’s a fancy restaurant,” Phoenix reminded her with exaggerated patience. “I’m sure they still have something you’ll like. Why not just order a filet mignon and ask for them to stick two bun halves around it?”

“It’s not the same!” She pouted. “I wanted a burger, Nick!”

“I can check with the waiter to see what can be done.” Edgeworth stifled a depressed sigh that the fancy ambiance and fine dining menu of seafood and steaks were lost on the unsophisticated palate of Maya Fey. “And by the way, Wright, it’s filet mignon.”

Phoenix looked at him blankly. “That’s what I said.”

“It’s French. It’s pronounced feel-ay min-eeon,” he explained, just as the waiter arrived to take their order. “Not fill-it mig-none.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Fancy Pants,” Phoenix muttered, his cheeks turning pink at having been schooled in such a demeaning manner. “Um, can I please get, as an appetizer, the pan-seared Sonoma artisan Fois Gras farm please?”

“French again, Wright. It’s foy-grah, not foz-grass,” Edgeworth sneered as Phoenix fumed. “Maya, what will you be having?”

“Is there any way you can make some sort of hamburger as an appetizer, if not an entrée?” Maya turned pleading puppy dog eyes first at Edgeworth, then at the waiter. “Please?”

“Hamburger?” The waiter looked startled, as if Maya had asked for something completely alien, like stewed monkey heads. “I’m sorry Miss, but I don’t think…”

“Maurice,” Edgeworth said firmly, waving the server close. “A word, please?”

The waiter leaned down as the prosecutor whispered into his ear, then the tuxedoed man rose again and smiled winsomely at Maya.

“As it so happens, Miss, we can gladly turn the prime beef tenderloin tartare into about half a dozen mini sliders, er, small-sized hamburgers for you, as a starter. I hope this pleases you?”

“Does it ever!” Maya grinned. “Could I get some ketchup with that please?”

“Ketchup?” Maurice echoed, trying not to sound aghast. “But it comes with radish, truffle soy caramel, cilantro, taro crisp…” His voice trailed off as he caught Edgeworth’s eye, noticing the prosecutor discreetly holding up his hand, “I shall find you some sort of tomato substance in our kitchen if I have to squeeze them myself!”

He nodded at the three. “So, that will be sliders, er, mini burgers for the lady, Fois Gras for the gentleman, and yourself Mr. Edgeworth, Sir?”

“The escargot, please. And a bottle of Chateau Merlot for the three of us.”

“Very good, Sir.” The waiter nodded again when suddenly Phoenix called out.

“Hold it!”

Surprised, Maurice turned around again. “Yes, Sir?”

“I changed my mind,” Phoenix told him benignly. “If I can’t properly pronounce the food, I’d just not feel right ordering it, I’m afraid. Might I please change my starter to the LA Prime signature seafood platter for two?”

The most expensive appetizer on the menu, Edgeworth noted wryly. Way to make your point, Wright!

“That comes with ½ Maine lobster, pacific prawns, as well as today’s oyster and crab selection,” Maurice pleasantly informed the man who’d just claimed he barely had the stomach for half an appetizer. “An excellent choice, Sir. It’s a quite large serving, shall I bring you some extra plates to share?”

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary.” There was an evil gleam in Phoenix’s eye. “If I can’t finish, I’ll just have to ask you for a doggy bag, won’t I?”

“Certainly Sir, no worries.” The waiter bowed slightly and walked away. “I shall be right back with your waters and wine.”

The moment he’d left, Phoenix turned to Maya, the same wicked glint in his eye.

“You know, being Mr. Cunning Linguist here wasn’t always a good thing for Edgy, Maya,” Phoenix remarked casually. “There were times when rather than being revered for being the guy who knew words that nobody else did, it just made people think he was a mean, stuck-up, know it all jerk!”

“Really?” Maya asked in surprise, not once turning her head in Edgeworth’s direction, as if forgetting he was there. “When was that?”

“Oh, back in fourth grade I believe.” Phoenix put a finger to his chin as if lost in thought. “I believe it was the Valentine’s Day dance. Edgy here wanted to impress Jilly Baxter, whom he knew I liked, with his ladies’ man wooing skills, by telling her how fetching she looked in her pink lace dress.”

“Fetching?” Maya echoed. “Um, that means pretty, right?”

“It does,” Phoenix nodded confirmation, ignoring the reddish tint to Edgeworth’s cheeks. “It was probably more commonly used as a compliment back in the days of Abraham Lincoln of course, but that’s neither here nor there…”

“Wright…” Edgeworth growled, grinding his teeth.

“So you see, Maya, as a grown woman, you weren’t too sure what that word meant, and probably wondered, like the rest of us all did, why Edgy just couldn’t have saved the smart words for the spelling bee and just said Jilly looked nice.” Phoenix looked triumphant as the psychic started giggling, as if sensing where this was heading.

Edgeworth glared daggers at him.

“So instead, he sent her home in tears because she thought he meant she looked like a dog and Edgy wanted to play fetch with her.”

“Oh no!” Maya gasped, giggling maniacally. “That’s so awful!”

“I know!” Phoenix laughed. “The teacher made him stay late for detention that day and write outlines of ‘I will not use words that hurt even accidentally‘ 100 times!”

Maya turned to the now scarlet-faced Edgeworth, her eyes dancing with mirth.

“You’ve come a long way since, haven’t you Miles?” She snickered. “Stick with calling girls lovely, OK? Cuz we all understand what that means!”

Edgeworth closed his eyes and tried to squelch the images of himself throttling the defense attorney with his cravat.

Luckily, he was saved by the appearance of their appetizers, which included, he noted, a brand new, apparently never-used glass bottle of the requested ketchup.

“Bon appetit,” Maurice announced, setting down their plates.

Phoenix’s eyes widened when he saw his platter.

“Wow, half the cast of The Little Mermaid is on here,” he joked, cracking open a crab leg. “I was only kidding about not sharing Maya. You can have some if you want.”

“It’s alright, Nick, I gotta finish these scrumptious looking sliders first,” Maya assured him, her brow furrowed with concentration as she struggled with the cap on the bottle. “Oof!”

“Want me to try?” Phoenix offered.

“No, I can do this!” Maya grunted, struggling again. “Yeesh, seems like you really gotta have superhuman strength to get this damn thing off!”

“Come on, Maya,” Phoenix held out a hand for the bottle, and grudgingly, Maya complied.

Edgeworth silently glared at him as he gallantly received the bottle from Maya and began his fruitless attempt at trying to open it. Phoenix grunted and scrunched up his face at the effort.

After several moments of watching Phoenix’s wasted labors at opening the ketchup, Edgeworth reached over chivalrously and held out his hand for the bottle.

“Give it here, Wright! I’m sure Maya doesn’t want to wait all night for you to open that!”

“Oh, like your girly hands can open –”

As Edgeworth leaned toward him and snatched the ketchup out of his hands, the cap fell onto the table, and a large blob of ketchup shot from the bottle onto his crisp, snowy cravat.

“Ngh!” He shrieked in alarm, jumping up out of his seat and dropping his fork back into the pool of butter, which only splashed greasy yellow spots along with the red.

“Oh my God, Miles!” Maya clapped a hand over her mouth in horror.

Phoenix bit his cheeks to keep from laughing.

“Whoops! I guess I must’ve loosened the cap after all…”

“M- My cravat!” Edgeworth spluttered, looking down at the soiled garment in disbelief.

“It’s not that bad,” Phoenix remarked innocently. “With the yellow mixed with the red, it looks like one of those Jackson Pollock paintings, really.”

“Shut up, Wright!” He snapped, taking deep breaths to compose himself.

“You could just take it off,” Phoenix jeered.

“I am not taking off my cravat!” Edgeworth glared. “It’s a part of who I am!”

“Little Brother, why on earth are you wearing that stained cravat?” A familiar voice suddenly asked, with evident disdain. “You look like a completely foolish fool, not to mention a total slob!”

“Did you have an accident, Mr. Edgeworth, Sir?”

Phoenix, Maya, and Edgeworth all turned their heads, and standing there, hands-on-hips, stood Franziska Von Karma. Next to her was Detective Dick Gumshoe, for once without his trademark trench coat.

“Hiya Gumshoe, Ms. Von Karma!” Maya waved. “So nice to see you here! But where’s your coat, Detective?”

“Um, Sir offered to buy me dinner for all the hard work I did in the Matt Engarde case,” the scruffy detective told her with a big smile on his broad face. “But she told me she’d only brought me to a nice place like this if I left my coat in the car.”

“He can leave his filthy coat for one night, Little Brother,” Franziska wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Yet you would sit here in company with a soiled cravat?”

“It works as a bib,” Phoenix chuckled, getting up to shake Gumshoe’s hand and smiling at Franziska.

I will strangle you with my cravat, Wright, the normally peace-loving prosecutor thought darkly. Then I will prosecute myself, have Maya channel her late sister to defend me, and after the judge hears my motives for murder, will undoubtedly be found not guilty while you, Wright, remain dead…