by N. M. Silber
“You’re not driving. Don’t waste it. There are people going to bed sober tonight all over the world.”
“Fine. Speedy Gonzales,” I said making the only other Mexican-themed toast that popped into my head, and drank his shot too. I vowed that it would be the last one and I didn’t care if someone came in who had just won the trial of the century.
“Are you trying to get her drunk?” Jess asked.
“Maybe.” He laughed.
Finally I came up with something to write. I was going to have to sell some real estate to raise enough money to tip the impatient waitress who had been standing there the whole time.
Dear Braden,
I wouldn’t want to be responsible for encouraging an officer of the court to misbehave in public. That might actually be disorderly conduct – among other things.
Yours Truly,
Gabrielle S. Ginsberg, Esq.
Public Defender
My response was another big hit. I heard more laughter and comments that I couldn’t make out. Actually, I could make out less and less of what was going on around me. My head was starting to feel a little fuzzy. Jess and Mark had been checking out this ongoing correspondence with great amusement. A few minutes later we received a reply from the other table.
Dear Gabrielle,
Would you like to encourage me to misbehave more privately?
Warmly,
Braden T. Pierce, Esq.
Assistant District Attorney
My mouth went dry and I almost fell out of my chair but I had a feeling that people were watching my reaction closely, so I was careful not to get all flustered. Yep – you guessed it – law school. Really, the only thing they don’t teach you there is law. Jess glanced over and quickly did a double take when she read that.
“What?!” she exclaimed. “Is that a question or an offer?” she asked Mark.
“Uh,” Mark began with a laugh. “I think he might be asking her if she wants to hook up.”
Oh fuck! The flirtation thing had worked a little bit too well. Although my position on the one night stand thing was wavering a little at the moment, the tiny little piece of my brain that wasn’t yet swimming in beer and tequila was warning me that having a one night stand with the prosecutor who I faced regularly in court, and was insanely infatuated with to boot, was maybe not a good idea. Jess helped me to get a grip on reality.
“Mark, she was just flirting with him, not trying to pick him up. If he’s interested in her let him ask her out on a date. You know — a date? Where you leave with the same person you arrived with?” I wanted to be just like Jess when I grew up. Then she turned to me. “Honey, you tell him that he doesn’t get to misbehave with you unless he at least takes you out to dinner first.” That sounded like a good response. It even sounded saucy. What the hell — I was feeling courageous. Alcohol will do that.
Dear Braden,
If you want to misbehave with me, at the very least, you’ll have to take me out to dinner first.
Respectfully,
Gabrielle S. Ginsberg, Esq.
Public Defender
“I suspect I’ll be getting a summons soon,” Mark said as we watched my response make its way
toward the other table. “So, you’re saying that you’re not interested in just hooking up with Braden but you would be interested in dating him?”
“I was under the impression that he didn’t really do that – dating, I mean,” I answered.
“He doesn’t,” Mark replied. “You never know though. I kind of get the feeling he may be a little more interested in you, but I can’t make many promises, even if he is.”
“See!” Jess smirked in triumph. “I told you so!” Mark glanced at her with amusement.
“Well, I might possibly be interested, but only if it was like a real dating thing and not just a one nighter with a meal plan,” I said. Mark found that rather amusing.
“So, you would want there to be a series of dates?” he asked, sounding like he was negotiating a plea bargain.
“I’m not saying he’s got to commit to a certain amount. I’m just saying that it would have to be more than “one and done” even if I got fed.” I paused for a few seconds and then went for it. “And if he really wanted to date me then it would need to be exclusive.”
“That’s a pretty big demand.” Mark looked like he didn’t think I had a snowball’s chance in hell of nailing that one down.
“I’m not making demands, Mark,” I explained. “I just prefer that people who date me focus on getting to know me, which is easier if they aren’t busy screwing a bunch of other women. Besides, I’m sorry, but I just don’t want to stand in line at anybody’s bedroom door. I was an only child. I never learned to share nicely.” I didn’t hold out much hope either, but I wasn’t going to compromise on this and wind up miserable. I’d rather be frustrated than heartbroken.
“I think what she’s saying, Mark, is that she would be more than happy to tire him out on a regular basis herself but she expects to be treated with respect.” Jess summed things up well.
“Mark, I believe that Mr. Roth is trying to get your attention,” I said. I had glanced over quickly and seen that Adam was grinning at us and gesturing for Mark to join them. Braden looked deep in thought but he was also looking at me. My tummy fluttered.
“I’ll relay your position, Gab,” he said with a smile. “We public defenders have to stick together.” Mark was a champion negotiator. I didn’t exactly anticipate success but at least I was in the best hands possible. If I ever committed a felony, (and mind you, the night was still young), I wanted Mark in my corner. When he left I decided to take advantage of Jess and I being left alone to hold a conference and I leaned across the table, speaking in a conspiratorial tone while breathing tequila fumes into her face.
“So, you really think that Mr. Player over there might agree to date me?”
“Anything’s possible. Take off your jacket, by the way.”
“Why? The air conditioning is set to subarctic.”
“Just do it. All the booze you’ve been drinking should keep you warm.” I slid my suit jacket off, hanging it on the back of my chair. I was a little self-conscious because the white sleeveless shell I had on underneath was snug, and it made me look like a waitress at Hooters, but the beer and tequila were really kicking in and so my self-consciousness was diminishing rapidly. Alcohol will do that too.
“What if he still isn’t interested in anything but a one night stand though?” I asked. I had a quick flashback to my humiliating college experience. “I sense much awkwardness on the horizon.”
“Then he isn’t interested. You didn’t ask him out. He asked you to hook up and you turned him down but said you might consider dating him. Big deal. Now let your hair down.”
“What, am I going to bed?”
“Maybe – depends on what they come back with. Don't question it, just trust me.” I sighed and reached up to do it. It felt good to take my hair down out of its elastic band and I shook it out and let it fall freely down my back and over my shoulders. Then I ran my hands through it to straighten it out a little.
“Anything else while I’m undressing?”
“Nope. That will do,” she said with a smirk. “I think he's adjusting himself under the table.” I noticed that at the angle she was sitting she could see the other table out of the corner of her eye.
“Braden? He was watching me do this?”
“Yep. Now that you've announced that he's man enough to handle your mouth he’s barely looked anywhere else. He probably wants to throw you down on that table and make you see God.”
“Well, at least we have that in common. He’s not talking to Mark?”
“He’s listening to Mark while watching you. It looks like they’re engaged in some pretty intense discussion. It should be interesting to see if he’s going to go for it.”
Before I could ask her what she meant we were descended upon by herds of semi-drunken guys in business suits who
had caught sight of us sitting alone. (Sometimes the hungry lions came to the baby gazelle.) One by one, and sometimes two by two, a steady stream of males smelling of beer, scotch, rum and various other potent potables, were stopping by to say hi and introduce themselves. They attempted to chat us up, buy us drinks, and stare at our boobs. I needed a whip and a chair. I was afraid that the whip might attract more of them, though, or at least the kinky ones. In between fending them off, we continued to talk.
“The problem is that I don’t know what to say to him beyond making snarky comments.” I was starting to sound panicky.
“What are you so nervous about? It's not like you've never attracted a guy before, Gabrielle. At least ten have tried to pick you up since Mark left the table”
“He's so sexy, Jess. He probably dated entire sororities in college.”
“More likely they just blew him in the bathroom. If he asks you out on a date, Gab, then he seriously likes you. He doesn’t date. He fucks.”
“So, why are you encouraging me here?” Get it On by the Power Station was playing and I was tempted to start drunk dancing but nobody needed to see that.
“Because I think that he does seriously like you.”
“Do you know more about this than you’ve shared?”
“Look, I don’t know anything for sure, but I have a gut feeling and my gut’s usually right. I’m also not sure that he’ll do anything about it, even if he does like you, but he might now he knows that you’re interested too.”
“He doesn’t even really know me, though. This is the first time he’s seen me outside of court.”
“Do you feel like you’ve gotten to know him by being in court with him practically every day for the past six months?” She had a point there. It was something I had thought about myself.
“I guess that I have gotten to know a lot about his personality.”
“Well, he’s gotten to know a lot about yours too. You guys do know each other well. You just don’t know all the details.” She looked up. “Uh oh. I think we’re being summoned now.”
That feeling I had before? That wasn’t panic. This was panic. Even a bit boozed up I was nowhere near ready for a face to face flirt. Flight seemed out of the question, though, as Jess was already up on her feet and I didn’t want to be left alone to face the horny drunken businessman brigade. I took a deep breath, grabbed my jacket and followed along. Several prosecutors had moved on and there were plenty of empty seats. Thanks to Jessica's decision to throw her body across three of them, though, I found myself seated directly across from Braden. This wasn't getting any easier.
“Was there something that you wanted?” I asked Adam, hoping that I just sounded saucy and not like my clients who worked the corner outside the Triple X Theater.
“Why don’t you tell her what you want, Braden?” Adam laughed. I had a feeling that I could guess. Braden was giving me a really heated look. I had never seen him look at me like that, but then I had only ever been with him in court. It would be kind of odd to glance over in the middle of a carjacking case and see opposing counsel looking at you like he was picturing you naked. And I was pretty sure that’s what he was doing. Although he wasn’t being openly rude, he seemed to really like how I looked in a tight shirt in a cold room, if you know what I mean.
“We figured we would save you from having to turn down any more guys trying to buy you drinks,” Mark said, tossing a peanut into his mouth.
“It’s the least you could do, since thanks to you I actually am under the influence now, Mr. there are people going to bed sober tonight all over the world.”
“Hey, it’s not my problem you’re a lightweight,” he teased. “I didn’t force you to chug those two cups of beer, Animal.”
“I can’t wait to hear what she has to say when she’s been drinking,” Adam joked.
“Perhaps I’ll just sit here quietly and be entertained by your sparkling wit,” I said and started torturing a napkin in a way that it had done nothing to deserve. Suddenly Braden, who had been quiet up until this point, reached down and picked up my hand. He held it up to examine it more closely and my pulse shot into the stratosphere. At this rate I was going to need a cardiologist soon.
“Yale?” he asked, looking at my class ring with amusement and then laying my hand back on the table. So, I picked up his hand and held it up for my own examination. It had seemed casually sexy when he had done it. I, on the other hand, was squinting, which made it look like I was giving him an appraisal. After two beers and two shots of tequila, I was lucky I could still see straight.
“You went to Harvard?”
“Go Crimson,” he said, giving me a cocky grin. I put his hand down, afraid that if I didn’t, I would yank him across the table and kiss him stupid for daring to be that sexy.
“The Bulldogs are ahead by ten games now you know.” Way to be charming, Gabrielle. Maybe you should arm wrestle him too.
“That's just because Harvard's busy attracting world class scholars.”
“You mean the ones who couldn’t get into Yale?”
“I’ve heard that anyone could get into Yale.”
“What?” I smacked him on the arm. Oh shit! I had just drunkenly hit a freaking prosecutor. I slouched down in my seat a little hoping to look less drunk and disorderly… and violent. He seemed to be highly amused though.
“Did everyone see that? She just assaulted an assistant district attorney,” he said with a grin.
“She’s a naughty girl. I think she needs to be punished,” Mark said.
“Make sure you cuff her first,” Adam said with a smirk. “I hear she’s dangerous.”
“I’m not afraid of a little danger and I like naughty girls,” Braden said with a suggestive smile. He was openly flirting with me at close range. My heart felt like it was trying to escape my body through my throat and it occurred to me that it might be too late for a cardiologist. I forced myself to act cool and calm though. I held his eye contact and gave him a saucy smile. To that extent the tequila was actually quite helpful.
“You want to cuff me, you’ll have to catch me first.” I was getting pretty cocky over there myself, which was pretty impressive considering I was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown.
“Uh oh. I think we just hit foreplay,” Adam said and I wondered what exactly would happen if I actually lost consciousness. Would someone try to revive me or would people just step over me on the way to the bar?
“We seem to have a rivalry, folks. I think we should see how Harvard matches up with Yale in beer trivia,” Mark said, pulling out his phone.
“What is this, a frat party?” Jess asked.
“If it were a frat party we would play strip beer trivia,” Adam explained. I could tell that Adam missed his fraternity days.
“Here you go, plenty of trivia online,” Mark said. “And hey, there's sex trivia too. Hmm. The Harvard-Yale Beer Sex Trivia Challenge. I like the sound of that.”
“How about a little wager that Harvard can take Yale?” Braden smiled. The look he was giving me was getting hotter by the minute. You know how flames have that blue part? Well, that’s what his eyes looked like. I felt like I was about to spontaneously combust.
“You want me to wager Yale's honor on Beer Trivia?”
“Beer Sex Trivia,” Adam corrected.
“I’ll respect Yale’s honor,” Braden replied, taking a swig of his beer. “Loser takes the winner out to dinner. That’s what you wanted, right?” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Adam and Mark exchange knowing looks. Jesus in a sidecar! He was going for it!
“Maybe,” I said hesitantly. This was only his opening offer — he was agreeing to one date.
“Oh yeah, Harvard's definitely going to take Yale.” Adam smirked, watching us like he was watching two samurais circling each other. Or possibly like he was watching porn.
“Harvard's going down,” Jess shot back, and I could hear barely suppressed excitement in her voice. She just couldn’t wait to see what was going
to happen next.
“Sounds like Yale will too, judging by our opening conversation,” Adam retorted suggestively.
“Okay, forget the games,” Braden said, sitting back and looking at me like he was ready to rumble. “You and I have been facing each other in court for six months and we’ve negotiated plenty of agreements. So, let’s negotiate.” The gloves were coming off. Bring it baby.
“Why don’t you make me an offer, counselor?” I was hoping it would be an offer that involved getting naked at some point. I wanted to take off more than gloves. My chances of that were probably pretty good with Mr. Private Misbehavior over there.
I sat up straight with my shoulders back and my chin up. I may have had one fuckinormous crush on this guy, but I could be one tough broad when I needed to be. Hothouse flowers didn’t allow themselves to be locked into ten by ten concrete rooms with guys who had “Blood Killa” tattooed on their knuckles.
“If I understand your position correctly you want more than a one nighter with a meal plan.”
I shot Mark a deadly look. Big mouth.
“It was funny!” he said defensively.
“I’m stealing that line, by the way,” Adam informed me.
“That’s correct.”
“I’ll take you out to dinner tomorrow and you can choose where we go and what we do. Everything we do. I won’t even try to touch you unless you ask me to. Nicely.”
“Keep talking.”
“We could also go out next Friday and you could choose again then if you wanted, although, there should be an implicit understanding that if we were hitting it off there might be some private misbehavior on the agenda. I’m not saying that I expect to hook up with you. I’m just saying that you should expect me to try. ”