Page 34 of A Legal Affair
“What’s the issue?” Caleb drawled, lips already twitching.
“We ran into someone today. A certain someone from college that Beau once claimed he was going to marry. When we saw her today—looking finer than ever and happily married—Beau suddenly caught a case of amnesia and acted like he barely remembered her. When I kindly reminded him that he used to be obsessed with her, he swore I was tripping, that she wasn’t even his type back in the day. So I’m like, Alright, bet. I know who can settle this.” Brandon grinned at Caleb, his dark eyes gleaming with anticipation. “I know you know exactly who I’m talking about. Say her name so I can shut this clown up once and for all.”
“Hmm.” Caleb took a slow sip of his whiskey, the warmth spreading through him as he pretended to contemplate the glittering city lights. “Let’s see,” he began, drawing out the words for dramatic effect, “her name was…Tedra.”
Beau erupted in loud protest as Brandon crowed triumphantly, “Told you!”
Caleb laughed, shaking his head at Beau. “How you gonna lie, bruh? Tedra was one of the few girls on campus who wouldn’t give you the time of day, and it drove you absolutely crazy. The more she ignored you, the more you wanted her.”
“Even if that’s true,” Beau challenged, his voice an irritated grumble, “when did I ever say I was gonna marry her?”
“That night at the frat party, three weeks before Brandon and I graduated. You’d been whining about the end of an era, how everything would be different once we started law school, how we’d be no fun anymore. All of your friends were cramming for finals—which, if you were doing the same, your history grade wouldn’t have dropped to a B minus. Tsk-tsk. So anyway, youtalked us into going to the party that night because you knew Tedra would be there. So while she was dancing with ol’ boy—her future husband—you tried to cut in and got rejected. Your jaw literally dropped. Nothing like that had ever happened to you before. Stunned but undefeated, you stalked back over to us and confidently declared, and I quote: ‘That’s alright. We’ll have a good laugh over this one day when she’s my wife and the mother of my five sons. She just doesn’t know it yet.’” Caleb paused, one brow cocked. “Shall I go on, or we good?”
Brandon threw back his head and howled with laughter.
Beau shook his head slowly at Caleb. “Yo, you got an eidetic memory or something?”
Caleb grinned. “I believe that’s what the kids call receipts.”
Beau scoffed with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Let’s not make a big deal out of this. It’s not like I have trouble getting broads?—”
“Except Tedra,” Caleb taunted smugly. “That one’s gonna haunt your arrogant black ass forever.”
Brandon burst into another deep rumble of laughter.
Caught between a scowl and a grin, Beau jabbed his finger at Caleb. “No more ‘brother from another mother’ talk. You’re dead to me, man.”
“Aw, that hurts my feelings.” Caleb grinned, enjoying the easy camaraderie that only years of shared history could forge.
As Beau stalked back inside grumbling, Brandon shot Caleb a grateful grin. “Thanks for bringing receipts. I knew I wasn’t tripping.”
“Nah, you weren’t. Beau is the king of revisionist historians.”
“For real. But he can’t try that shit with you, professor.”
“Nope.” Grinning, Caleb gestured to Brandon with his whiskey glass. “Still enjoying your August recess?”
“Definitely,” Brandon admitted, sighing. “I feel like I haven’t had a moment’s peace since January.”
“I can imagine,” Caleb said with grim sympathy. “The Senate must be a circus.”
“It’s a different kind of circus. Less popcorn, more existential dread,” Brandon joked, though a certain weariness in his eyes hinted at the relentless pace of DC life. “Just got in from Houston, actually. Held a town hall and some meet-and-greets, answered a bunch of questions about the education bill. It’s hot as fuck back home, but folks were fired up and the turnout was insane.”
“Whendon’tyou draw big crowds?” Caleb drawled.
Brandon chuckled, running a hand over his immaculate low-cut fade, a familiar gesture that meant he was thinking hard. “I was on CNN last night. They tried to paint me into a corner on the infrastructure spending, but I think I managed to pivot before I started rambling.”
“I saw the segment,” Caleb told him. “You were sharp, man. Clear and concise. Refreshingly honest.”
Brandon always brought his A game, even when he claimed otherwise. It was part of his political armor, part of his natural magnetism. He was one of the smartest people Caleb had ever known, his brilliance matched only by his confidence and charisma.
He gave Caleb a wry look as he sat on the porch swing. “You really don’t think I looked tired? Cause I sure as hellfelttired.”
“Which is to be expected with a newborn at home,” Caleb said. “But you didn’t look or sound tired, Superman. So relax.”
“Relax? What’s that?” Brandon flashed him a rueful half grin, only one dimple appearing. “So how’s life in academia these days? Enjoying a new year of corrupting young minds with your radical legal theories?”
Caleb shrugged. “Someone’s gotta do it.”
