by Monroe, Max
“Professor Hullum! It’s good to talk to you.”
“You too, Caplin. You too. In the interest of being candid, I was shocked to hear from you. Thrilled, but shocked. It seems like all I do is read articles about your accomplishments these days.”
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.”
He walks across the platform and jumps up to sit on top of Professor Hullum’s desk, and I hear a collective female sigh. I roll my eyes.
No doubt, my spidey senses were right. This guy is big fat fucking trouble.
“You have to look beyond the information you’re given to the information you ca
n find,” he continues, and I’m just about to look away—because Jesus, this guy is something else, and I don’t want any part of whatever sexy black voodoo he’s tossing out like candy toward the rest of my female classmates—when his gaze finds mine directly and holds it.
Shit. I don’t miss the amused recognition that flashes behind the sienna hues of his eyes.
He remembers me.
And most likely, he remembers the moans that blared from my audiobook while I bumbled around like an idiot with my phone.
I freeze in my seat, eternally grateful I decided to cross my arms a few short minutes ago, and I can feel his eyes on me like a physical touch. A fucking shiver runs up my spine.
Look away, Ruby! Look away from the sexy man!
I try to force myself to break the intense eye contact, but it’s no use. His penetrating stare holds my gaze, and he starts to speak again. “I’ll give you an example that some of you might relate to. Say you see a pretty woman or a handsome bastard—depending, of course, on your preferences—in…a library.”
Déjà vu hits me like a Mack truck.
What the hell…?
My mind fixates on the word library, while my breath catches in my throat so hard, I nearly choke. It’s all I can do to stay in my seat.
Caplin smirks and continues.
“And you want to see her—or him—again. But you don’t know her name—you don’t know her at all. How might you go about finding her?”
A guy down in front who loves to answer questions raises his hand. Caplin calls on him immediately.
“Yeah?”
“Is she an employee or just a patron?”
Caplin’s smile deepens. “An employee.”
The guy perks up. “Find the library board and request a staff roster.”
Caplin jumps back off the desk and walks across the room again. “Ah, great idea. Except, say you do that, and her information still doesn’t come up.”
The guy frowns, and another law student a few rows up and on the other side of the room raises his hand.
“Go back to the library and see if she’s there.”
“Right!” Caplin snaps his fingers. “Back to the scene of the crime. Of course, when you get there, she’s not there, because let’s not make this too easy. What do you do then?”
The first guy to answer speaks up again. “Ask whoever is there about her. Employees usually know other employees.”
Caplin nods. “Yes!”
My heart picks up its pace, and I squeeze my hands into fists just as Caplin’s eyes find mine again and stick like honey.
“So, you do that. You ask around about her. But when you talk to the employee on duty, he refuses to disclose her information.”
Oh God. Kevin.
Caplin’s smirk gets even…smirkier. “So, what now? What’s the next step?”
The girl next to me, someone I vaguely know as Sandra, raises her hand, and it catches me off guard. I don’t know if I thought I was in some kind of twilight zone bubble or what, but despite being the possible subject matter of an entire classroom, I don’t really feel like I’m in my own body. “But you have his information from the employee roster. And you know what she looks like. Certainly, you could run a simple background check on him and see if it turns up any of her details.”
“Yeah.” Cap rubs at his jaw. “You could go the private detective route, the whole nine yards. But don’t you think that maybe there’s a simpler way to get her information. Something less pricey?”
Before I even realize I’m doing it, my hand is in the air.
Caplin smiles before pointing up at me. “Yes?”
My glare is pointed, and I tilt my head for extra emphasis. “Or you could just leave her alone. If she didn’t give you any of her information, maybe she doesn’t want you to find her.”
His smile deepens, and my chest grows tight. “Sorry. That’s unequivocally, absolutely, wholeheartedly not an option.”
Half of the class snickers, and I clench my teeth.
“Any other ideas?” he asks the class. “Besides the background check? What other kinds of clues could you have gotten from your initial interaction?”
The copies. The file. Jesus Christ. Even though I’m not a regular employee, just a sub, the computer system makes you log your name when you check a file back into the stack and when you make copies.
I shake my head, and then, when no one else raises their hand, decide fuck it.
If nothing else, at least I’ll get to look smart.
I raise my hand again.
Caplin’s smile is downright mind-bending when he looks back up at me. “Yes?”
“If she made copies or handled any files or did anything in the library, really, it would make her log in to the system with her name.” He smirks at my words, and I continue with a challenging smile. “Of course, I’m not sure how the person looking for her would find that information without doing something illegal.”
“Ah, well. That’s easy. All you’d need to do is go back to the information desk when a different employee was working and ask for the file, tell them you couldn’t find it in the stacks. They’d look in the log to see the last person to handle it, and probably, mention them out loud when they promised you they’d look into it. And once you have her name, it’s all gravy from there.”
“So, did you find her?” the dude in front asks, the guys around him nodding.
Caplin tears his eyes away from mine—and it legitimately looks like it takes effort—to glance back at them.
“Ah, boys, sorry,” he murmurs with a wink. “All of this was strictly theoretical.”
I swallow hard as the motherfucker looks up at me and bites his lip.
“But it’s got a point, I promise.”
He heads back to the board and scribbles down some notes. “This, boys and girls, is the kind of thinking you’re going to need to use on a daily basis. Every case, every single one, will have challenges. It wouldn’t be in court without them. It’s your job to think around the challenges—to keep asking questions until you find an answer. Get good at it, and you’ll be surprised just how rewarding it can be.”
My mind races with the possibilities of finding some loopholes. The ones he speaks of with such authority and wit.
Of course, the loopholes I’m looking to find only involve one thing…avoiding Caplin Hawkins like the fucking plague.
Ruby
I gather my things as quickly as possible when class dismisses and head for the back of the room. The rest of the group is in stampede mode going forward, though, and I get caught up in them like a salmon trying to swim upstream.
I turn around like a tornado, trying to fight the momentum of the crowd, which means, unfortunately, every third spin or so, I get a look at Caplin’s smiling face.
He’s not even trying to get to me—and hell, maybe it’s conceited of me to think his little library story is actually true. I mean, what if he just happened to be here, happened to notice me, and then decided to spin his tale on the fly?
If he really is the top corporate lawyer in the country, that kind of coincidence certainly seems more plausible than the alternative—him going to insane lengths to actually track me down.
Reality fully considered, I stop trying so hard to get away and step into one of the rows and away from the chaos. Girls fawn all over him, and the guys look ready to dive into an all-out bro-huddle. I don’t know where Caplin Hawkins gets his magnetism, but apparently, it doesn’t discriminate based on gender.
When a path finally opens up to the back of the room again, I make another attempt, sliding out in front of a girl who’s definitely not wearing a bra, and make my way up the stairs and out the door.
I pull on my jean jacket and lift the fall of my hair out of the collar before securing my books in my bag, zipping it up, and hoisting it up onto my shoulder.
When I shove out the main door of the building, the cooler fall air feels good on my overheated skin.
Headph
ones in place, I start my trek toward home. A fourteen-block journey with a ten-flight stair chaser at the end.
But I’m only a half a block into it when I feel the pressure of a hand on my shoulder.
I turn quickly, defensive hands up and at the ready.
And there he is.
Caplin fucking Hawkins with his face curled into a smile, standing directly in front of me.
“Oh geez,” I mutter. “It’s just you.”
His smile fucking grows like it’s on steroids. “You know, I’m used to getting a little bit of a different greeting.”
“From people you’ve stalked?” I raise a defiant brow. “Because I’d like to have a chat with them if that’s the case.”
“You say stalking so formally. It’s not like I hid outside in your bushes. I tracked you down. That’s it.”
My throat constricts. “Jesus. So, you really did all that stuff? That story is true?”
“You’re standing in front of me, aren’t you?” He shrugs, like he’s not completely in-fucking-sane. Like this is completely normal practice. “Although, I have to say, it was only an assumption that you would be in Hullum’s lecture today. There were way too many considerations to know for sure.”
Jesus. The confidence of this guy is mind-blowing.
“I thought you just made up that story for shock value…or a point or something. I didn’t think someone with your pedigree would actually go to this much trouble to track me down.”
“I’m a maker of opportunity, Ruby.”
“Ah, right,” I snort. “I guess you would know my name now.”
“It’s cute,” he says. “I like it. It suits you.” His eyes move to the strap of my bag before meeting my gaze again. “As does the bag. Tell your dog I said hi,” he reads the words etched above the front pocket and grins. “Also cute.”
I roll my eyes. The chicks in my class might fall for his cocky swagger, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let myself be included in that. “Look, I’m on my way home after a long day. Is there something specific you wanted from me?”
“Want to play naughty professor and frisky student?”