The majority of my confidence and self-worth comes from within—I am my own support system on most days—but even I have to admit, hearing that from a guy I admire, a guy who taught me a lot of the loopholes I never would have known to explore on my own, means a hell of a lot.
I’m largely unemotional, but hell, I think I even feel some moisture in one of my eyes.
“Thanks, Professor. I’m not trying to make headlines…just money.”
He laughs, thankfully remembering my propensity for joke-telling.
“Well, what can I do you for? I can’t imagine you have a question about something law-related, but if you do, I’m all ears.”
I think about the Huffman case and smile. I didn’t call the good professor for that kind of help, but I sure as shit won’t turn it down. I’ll make asking him a couple questions an addendum to my original plans.
“I do have a couple questions, actually,” I say. “But I was hoping to ask them in person. I thought maybe since I’m going to be close to campus a few times this week, you might have a spot for a guest lecturer?”
I was only planning on being close to campus if opportunity in the form of a mysterious, beautiful blonde knocked on my door, but he doesn’t need to know that.
He laughs. “You want to give a guest lecture?”
“Yeah, actually. I think it’ll do me some good to get out there and connect with the up-and-comers. Teach them a few things and maybe let them teach me. Think you can find some availability for me?”
“How’s tomorrow?” he asks, and I chuckle.
It’s only Tuesday, and I’m already balls deep in five different case files and trying to get an assistant that can actually fucking assist.
“I might need a couple days to prepare, but I can certainly do Friday. How’s that sound?”
“Like the perfect excuse to take an early weekend.”
“Come on now, Professor.” I chuckle. “You still have to show up.”
“Ah, well,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “Still. It’ll be nice to sit back and watch you show off what you remember.”
“Oh,” I say with a laugh. “You actually want me to teach something related to your class?”
“It’s good to talk to you, Caplin. I’d almost forgotten how much I hated teaching you.”
“I was a smartass, huh?”
“Yes. Still are. But it’s much more enjoyable when I’m not directly involved in whether or not you receive your diploma.”
“I bet. I’ll see you Friday, Professor. Same classroom?”
“Yep. See you then.”
I can’t wait. It’ll be good to see Professor Hullum again.
Of course, once I find her, it’ll be even better to see someone else.
Ruby
Fridays are my favorite day of the week.
I mean, I’m always dragging ass by this point, but it’s nothing that a double dose of caffeine in the form of two cans of Red Bull can’t fix.
Settled into my seat in the lecture hall, I put my fingers to the keys of my laptop and title a new document in my folder for this class.
Law & Business of Corporate Transactions.
It’s a mouthful of a title, and if my first two classes with this professor are anything to go by, it’s not the only part of this class that’ll be long-winded.
Professor Graham Hullum has a brilliant mind, is nationally renowned for his expertise in teaching the inner workings of corporate law, and his lectures rival the coldest corners of the earth and the iciest of fucking ice at making things numb. Namely, my mind.
Usually at this level of academia, people are pretty serious, but I’m not sure why. It’s like they think you can’t be funny and smart at the same time.
But they couldn’t be more wrong. I, a brilliant jokester of the most superior form, am what people in the law business call evidentiary support.
I mean, it’s called a wisecrack for a reason, right?
I type the date over to the side as the door in the back opens, and the sound of someone who’s obviously running late hurrying down the stairs. The girl behind me kicks me in the back of the shoulder as she jerks, and I look over it to give her my best what the fuck look.
Unfortunately, she doesn’t even see it. Instead, her eyes are glued to the front of the room, absolutely transfixed on the front of the lecture hall.
I turn to see what she’s looking at just as Professor Hullum starts speaking—and a guy steps up right beside him.
Mischievous caramel eyes.
Stupid handsome face.
And the kind of jaw that makes Roman statues look soft.
Holy mother of law legalities and coincidences, it’s the sexy dude from the law library the other day. A guy I’ve definitely seen before, and one who knows way too much about my audiobook preferences thanks to Sergio’s and Catarina’s orgasmic shouts of pleasure.
What are the fucking odds?
“Welcome, everyone. Let’s settle down,” Professor Hullum addresses the lecture hall. “We have a guest speaker today. Someone you’ll never get another chance to listen to in a million years. This guy is the top corporate lawyer in the country, and if I were you, I’d pay attention.”
The girls in class perk up immediately—and I do mean that literally.
I don’t know if this guy’s presence makes bras disappear like he’s some sort of illusionist or something, but I’ve never seen more nipples in my life. They’re cutting through tank tops and sweaters and fucking hoodies with equal and surprising precision.
I won’t go into the details of what my own are doing because, quite frankly, it’s embarrassing. I cross my arms over my chest just to make myself feel better.
He steps up onto the raised platform at the front of the room and grabs the chalk from the board.
With a scribbling scrawl, he writes the name I tried like hell to avoid in big capital letters, and I find myself reciting it silently to myself.
Caplin Hawkins.
It’s unique and unexpected, but somehow, it seems like it fits his persona with astonishing succinctness. His smirk, his cockiness—his unapologetically intense flirtation.
“Thanks, Professor, for having me. I know you had a party to celebrate my disappearance from your life all those years ago, so it means a lot that you’d burden yourself with entertaining my brand of humor again.”
For the first time on record, I’m sure, Professor Hullum smiles.
I sit up straighter in my seat as a girl in front of me tries discreetly to pull her tank top lower to reveal more cleavage.
Jesus. Does this guy have some way of potioning the air or what?
“I was a student here, in this very class, many moons ago. I sat in those seats, listening to these same, boring lectures…” Caplin glances over at Professor Hullum, who is again smiling. It’s like a parallel universe or something. I was certain it had been at least a decade since that man’s face morphed into anything but humdrum neutrality. “And I’m here to tell you the good news. In the end, I’m a better lawyer for it. Half the law is looking at what isn’t there. What’s not explicitly directed, what’s not covered in a contract, what’s not expressly illegal.” The class at large titters in their seats, and Caplin smiles. “That’s right, guys. I’m talking about the loopholes. The powerful, ever-changing tool you’re going to use to win ninety percent of your arguments and barter fifteen out of twenty deals.”