She began by declaring that defense attorney Ashleigh Merchant had lied in court filings when she suggested that Willis had slept with special prosecutor Nathan Wade after their first meeting. She fumed that her privacy had been invaded. She reminded Merchant that, “You think I’m on trial. These people are on trial for trying to steal an election in 2020.” And she held up paperwork filed by defense lawyers in a display of disgust. For no small amount of time, it seemed that judge Scott McAfee was a mere bystander in his courtroom.
The hearing had been taken over by Willis and her outrage. Whether her anger was defensive or righteous, it was something to behold.
She sat with her body positioned at a slight angle and rested her fingers on her cheek. Sometimes, she’d lean forward into the microphone but mostly her posture was one of powerful repose. If there is a female equivalent to man-spreading, that tendency of men to sit with their legs akimbo as they take up more than their share of space on a bench or a bleacher, Willis’s stance may well be it. She filled the room with her presence.
She might be more accustomed to asking the questions in a courtroom than answering them, but Willis didn’t have the rigid posture that one so often sees from witnesses who might be fighting off nerves. She sat in the hot seat like it was her throne and she was ready to slice off some heads.
Willis’s testimony followed that of Wade, with whom she’s had a romantic relationship — a relationship that sparked these court proceedings. One of the issues at the heart of whether she should be removed from the case is whether she benefited financially from having appointed Wade to it. And so much of the day’s questioning focused on whether Wade footed the bill for plane tickets and cruises to places such as Belize, Aruba and Napa Valley. Wade explained that the two split costs, with Willis paying him back in cash — thousands of dollars in cash. At a time when many businesses only accept electronic payments and many people never carry cash, Wade made a mess of explaining why Willis was handing over wads of untraceable dollars. He began many sentences with, “Here’s the thing …” And by the time he reached the end of the sentence, well, there was no “thing” there.
Wade sat in the witness chair in his gray plaid three piece suit, with his white French-cuffed shirt, gold cuff links and powder blue pocket square. He grimaced and smiled and repeatedly referenced his wife’s affair as the cause of his filing for divorce in 2021 even though no one asked him why he split with his wife but rather when he started his relationship with Willis. The two have said their romance began after he became special prosecutor, but Merchant presented a witness, Robin Bryant-Yeartie, who contradicted that. Wade repeated his version of the timeline of his relationship with Willis. He drank lots of water, dabbed his face and sniffled ever more vigorously.
Bryant-Yeartie said she’s known Willis since college and that they were once good friends; she also worked in the District Attorney’s office until she was forced to resign. When presented with Bryant-Yeartie’s testimony, Willis made one thing clear immediately. The two might have known each other when they were college students; they might have gone to the same parties; but they did not attend the same college. Willis said she was a student at Howard University and Bryant-Yeartie went to Morgan State, and Morgan State is most definitely not Howard. Then she summed up Bryant-Yeartie as someone who was not her friend and didn’t know what she was talking about. And then Willis pursed her lips, blinked a few times and that was that. She was just getting started.
Willis lectured the gathered attorneys on the philosophy behind keeping cash on hand. Her father taught her that cash was king and a woman should always be financially self-reliant. And so, yes, she had a stash of cash accumulated over time and she used it to reimburse Wade. She dipped into it before a trip so she could pay taxi drivers or barter with vendors. Her description of her father’s advice was a compressed version of a complicated history and modern-day habit. She didn’t go into the discomfort that some Black people have with financial institutions or the ways in which banks have made it more difficult for Black people to do business with them. She didn’t mention that more older people believe in keeping ready cash and that a significant percentage of Black and Hispanic Americans use cash as their predominant payment method. She didn’t have to. She simply talked about what her father had told her to do as a matter of independence and power. “I don’t need any man to foot my bills,” Willis said.
Willis sat in the witness chair for hours. Or, more precisely, she reclined in the chair, woman-splaining how men define relationships and how they end them. She did so wearing a fuchsia dress with a single strand of beads around her neck. Her hair was styled in soft, shoulder-length curls and her eye makeup was precise and intentional. She was a singular bright spot surrounded by a black-robed judge and lawyers in mostly somber suits. Only Willis and her main inquisitor, Merchant, who wore a cobalt blue dress under a white blazer, stood out in the room’s sobriety.
During a November interview with The Washington Post, Willis was asked what advice she’d give to younger women who are trying to be heard. Willis said, in part, “You should be comfortable enough in your own skin to be authentically you, to be a woman. It’s okay to be pretty. It’s okay to, you know, think of things that are feminine things and still be a strong leader.”
Willis walked into court as a woman on the ropes. Some would say the hearing was a mess of her own making. Others might believe the whole mess is a distraction from more important matters. Either way, Willis fought back with gobsmacking fury — defiant in power pink.
Amanda Smith is a dedicated U.S. correspondent with a passion for uncovering the stories that shape the nation. With a background in political science, she provides in-depth analysis and insightful commentary on domestic affairs, ensuring readers are well-informed about the latest developments across the United States.
