Page 31 of Barristers & Bones

It was true. Most law students read their homework, and that was all they could stomach.

“I’m a fast reader. And my mind would probably seize up if I didn’t feed it something else occasionally. Or maybe start cannibalizing itself.” I turned to him. “Did you know numerous animal species sometimes eat their own? Like chimpanzees, hippos, and polar bears. My friend had a cute little hamster who had babies–”

Roman cut in. “Thank you for that stomach-churning fact right before lunch.” I smiled contentedly and leaned back.

That Friday, I prowled the offices to see who looked the least busy. Xander walked into the break room with a coffee mug, and I followed him. He was the quietest of the bunch and listened silently when the others got into discussions or arguments. Xander had said maybe five sentences in front of me since we met.

I put my hands together in a pleading gesture. “I need help with an income tax law problem that may or may not be on the midterm. Do you have a minute?”

He gazed down at me. “Yes.” He got coffee then turned and walked to his office. I assumed Xander meant for me to follow him.

His quiet demeanor didn’t bother me. I’d never detected that undercurrent of animosity from him that I sometimes felt from the other partners.

Sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs in front of his desk, I wiggled my butt. “This chair is horrible. It feels like I’m being pitched forward, and the cushion is as hard as cement.”

“I know.”

His chairs were a brilliant idea if you didn’t like talking to people, and wanted to keep office visits to a minimum. “Huh. So they’re uncomfortable on purpose, got it. Is depletion always a cause for depreciation? I understand depletion refers to irreplaceable resources, but does it then trigger depreciation?”

Xander tilted his head and studied me for a few seconds, and I wondered if he hadn’t heard me. Then he started explaining. “You’d need to distinguish and show the extent of depletion and depreciation.” Then he took a legal pad and thoroughly illustrated the concept for me.

When he finished, I pulled the pad to me, reviewed his notes carefully, and ripped off the page so I could keep it. I beamed at him. “You’d make a great law professor. I’ve got it, thank you.”

Roman didn’t give me any assignments over midterms, and to my annoyance, I tended to study the best in the small office next to his. My noise-canceling headphones and highlighters became a joke around the office, and the day before my tax law midterm, I found a pack of highlighters sitting on my chair with a note scrawled on the packaging that read“Good luck, X.”

Later that afternoon as I took the test, my lip twitched while reading through an exam problem about depletion and depreciation. I mentally brought up Xander’s diagram and answered the question.

After the test, Jared Gardner stood in the hallway waiting for me. “I haven’t seen you at the library. How’s the internship from hell going?”

“I’m fine, and the internship has gotten better. They let me study there when I’m not shadowing anyone. How are midterms going for you?”

“Good. How about dinner?”

I shifted uncomfortably. “I’m working at the funeral home this evening.”

Disappointment flitted across his face, and he shook his head. “I’ve never met anyone who lives and works above a funeral home next to a cemetery.”

“Well, the neighbors always mind their own business.”

He squinted his eyes. “Was that a joke? How about tomorrow, then?”

Sliding my backpack on, I started walking backward toward the door. “I’ve got to go. See you later.”

When my last mid-term in corporations rolled around, I knocked on Roman's door. He looked up, dark eyes fixing on mine with a now familiar intensity.

“Do you have a minute?” He motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Corporate mergers... how do they affect shareholder rights?”

He leaned back. “Still taking advantage of our ‘great legal minds’?”

“Sure. If it makes you feel better to call yourselves that.”

Smirking, he looked back at his laptop. “Let me finish this email and we’ll go to lunch and discuss it.”

I watched him work. His hair had gotten a little longer, and a dark strand fell across his forehead. He was so compelling and charismatic, with his razor-sharp mind behind that chiseled, striking face. He still didn’t seem to like me, and sometimes he stared at me with frigid, flat eyes, but since I’d walked out that Friday after my altercation with Ivan, he’d been less cold.

We walked past Brenna, who smiled at Roman and stared through me. She had a faint line of lip gloss across her incisors. “You’ve got lipstick on your teeth,” I informed her, pointing to her mouth.

“I’m not falling for that again,” she bit out. I shrugged, knowing she’d check as soon as the door closed behind us.

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