It Should Be a Crime (7 page)

“Dex Gallagher, third-year, future U.S. Attorney for the Northern District of Texas.”

“Well, nice to meet you, Mr. U.S. Attorney.” Turning to Parker, Morgan felt herself pause longer than necessary before asking, “And you are?”

As Parker turned to face her, Morgan nearly choked. There was no doubt in her mind, whatever name this woman uttered, she was Parker, the mysterious woman from the bar who had already introduced herself in ways Morgan should be blushing about. Feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, she willed it away waiting to hear Parker’s opening remarks.

“Hi, Professor Bradley, my name is Parker Casey. I’m a third-year, and I hope my career path is as successful as yours.”

Her tone was easy and even. She didn’t bat an eye.
Did I hear,
Morgan wondered,
a slight emphasis on the word “professor”?
Not ready to break the connection, Morgan asked, “You want to be a law professor?”

“I’ll settle for high-powered criminal defense attorney.”

“Fair enough.” Morgan paused, not quite ready to break contact either. “I’ll do my best to share all of my skills.”
Did I really just say that? She must think I’m crazy standing up here acting like we’ve never met.
This disconcerted feeling was unfamiliar to her. Unaware of how much time had passed, she moved on, hastening to minimize the appearance of discomfort.

The rest of the class was a blur. Morgan went over the syllabus, divided the class into groups, and made the first assignment. Although she planned to let class out early on the first day, their freedom came far earlier than she originally intended. She remained at the front of the room as the students filed out, simultaneously hoping for and dreading an encounter with a certain dark-haired third-year. As Parker walked toward her, she nearly jumped out of her skin at a voice from behind her.

“Professor Bradley, may I ask you a question?”

Morgan reluctantly released her gaze in Parker’s direction and turned toward the voice. She saw a young female student who seemed very excited to have her full attention. “Uh, sure. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I was thinking about what you said at the beginning of class and wanted to discuss whether I should stay or drop. You see…”

Morgan didn’t hear the rest, focused as she was on the departing Parker. Even though she willed the connection, she was startled again when, as Parker reached the door of the classroom she turned and shot Morgan a slow, easy smile, searing in its implication. Morgan covered her surprise at the unexpected contact and returned the favor. It wasn’t until that very moment Morgan knew for sure Parker remembered her, and she wondered what she was going to do with that nugget of information.

*

Parker begged off Dex’s invitation to grab a sandwich and went outside to find a place to collect her thoughts. She sprawled onto a bench and closed her eyes. Despite her show of bravado in the classroom, she was completely blown away to find the woman who had last occupied her bed was Morgan Bradley, celebrity criminal defense lawyer, popular TV commentator and, most surprising of all, her law professor. She didn’t want to drop the class. She wanted it on her résumé to impress future employers. Parker felt trapped.

Eyes shut, she pictured Morgan Bradley, dressed to the nines, standing at the front of the classroom. She looked completely in her element, totally in charge. And totally hot, Parker mused. Dex would simply die if he knew the famous Morgan Bradley’s body had lain naked on every stick of furniture she owned. Remembering the night they spent together, Parker corrected herself. Morgan hadn’t simply lain there. She’d been a wildcat, their night of sex filled with passionate agility. Reliving the memories, Parker, eyes still closed, smiled.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

Parker recognized the voice, but recognition didn’t minimize the shock of hearing it here, where she wasn’t expecting to encounter Morgan. The surprise nearly caused Parker to fall off the bench.

“Um, no. Do you need something?” Realizing she sounded abrupt, Parker started again, “I mean, hi, and no, you aren’t interrupting anything. Do you want to sit down?”

Morgan glanced around before she replied. “Actually, yes, I would.” She looked pointedly at Parker’s still sprawled form. Parker grinned sheepishly and sat upright, folding her legs underneath the bench.

Seated, Morgan turned toward Parker. “I thought we should talk.” Parker merely raised her eyebrows. Morgan continued, “I’m thinking neither one of us expected to see the other again.” Parker nodded. She didn’t want to taint whatever Morgan had to say by interjecting her own affirmations or denials.

“And certainly neither one of us expected to see each other here, in these roles.”

“Roles?” Parker asked.

“Me teacher, you student.”

“Oh, yeah. Those roles.”

“I had fun with you. You are pretty amazing.”

Parker was surprised at the unexpected compliment. As awkward as this situation was, she actually felt very comfortable sitting an arm’s length away from Morgan Bradley, famous lawyer. In fact, the only discomfort she felt was a persistent nagging need to lean over and kiss the lips of her law professor. Shaking herself out of the trance threatening to make her act on the need, she replied, “Why, thanks, Professor, you were pretty amazing yourself.”

“As much as I would love to see you again, you realize we can’t.”

Parker didn’t speak. Although she’d already had the same thoughts, her recent recollections were coloring her ability to think clearly. She knew Morgan was right, but she wished she had been the one to speak the words. Parker was used to calling the shots.

“Parker, did you hear me?”

Shrugging, she replied, “Sorry, I did hear you. I completely understand.” As she spoke the words, she saw relief spread over Morgan’s face and it made her unreasonably angry. Parker wondered why it should be so easy for Morgan to decide the one night was it, especially considering she was on fire just sitting next to her
. How in the hell am I going to make it through an entire semester without exploding?
Unable to resist a dig, she felt compelled to add, “Some people are capable of keeping their personal lives private and some aren’t.”

Morgan raised an eyebrow, urging Parker to continue.

“Now, take me for instance. I’m perfectly capable of having hot, healthy, recreational sex with another consenting adult without letting it interfere with my professional life. You, on the other hand, may be one of those people who can’t. I respect our differences.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” Morgan’s eyebrow was still raised and she wore a smug smile that threatened to send Parker over the edge.

Incapable of stopping, she continued. “Sure. Look, I know you are attracted to me and I know you had a great time the night we were together. But if having fun makes it too difficult for you to function professionally or should I say, professorially, I understand.” As soon as the words left her mouth she wanted to take them back, but pride forced her to wait for a response. Morgan’s reply immediately signaled Parker wasn’t winning any points in this conversation.

“Really?” Morgan’s smile turned to a scowl and she growled back, “I promise you I am capable of more than you will ever know, but that’s not the issue here. This situation is simple: you’re a student and I’m your instructor. Those are lines I’m not willing to cross. I don’t have sex with my students.” Her last words with delivered emphatically.

It was Parker’s turn to to be smug. “Little late, don’t you think?” She glanced down at the bench as if to invite her to vacate. Morgan, taking the hint, rose and surrendered her seat. As she walked away, she shook her head, but didn’t turn back in Parker’s direction. Parker waited till Morgan was out of sight before taking off herself, in the opposite direction. Her surprise at seeing Morgan again in this setting, combined with the volatility of their exchange, resulted in a raging rush of hormones. Excitement warred with wounded pride and she was confused by her mixed reactions. She wasn’t used to wanting seconds from the women she chose to share her bed, but she was also used to being the one to make that decision. Morgan had beaten her to the punch, but Parker wondered if she was more upset about the timing of Morgan’s rejection or the fact Morgan had rejected her at all. She shook away the desire to answer her own question and decided to blow off an afternoon in the library in favor of a workout at the campus gym. As she walked away from the law school, she ran into Dex, who was walking toward her with several of their friends.

“Hey, Parker, ready to divvy up outlines?”

With an internal groan at his eagerness to get a jump on the new semester, Parker asked, “Now?”

“You have something better to do?”

“Actually, I was on my way to the gym.”

“Great. Let’s do this first and then I’ll join you. You could go now on your own, but I swear we’ll stick you with the worst sections.”

Parker knew Dex was only half teasing. Outlining was the bane and boon of every law student’s existence. The key was to split the task of producing a comprehensive outline of the text and classroom notes for each section of the syllabus among group members whose work you knew and respected. Parker, Dex, and three others had worked together to create intricate outlines since their first semester in school. The size of the group had fluctuated over the last year as the individuals pursued various electives, but when it came to core courses, they still met as a group to share their skills. This semester they were all signed up for Ethics with Dr. Spencer, who had a reputation for grueling exams. Parker weighed her options and decided the gym could wait and she agreed to join her friends.

“Fine, Dex. If you’re going to threaten me. But I’m holding you to your promise—a full workout after we meet.”

“Yeah, like I scare you. It’s a deal.”

Parker let Dex lead her to the library where he had reserved one of the small study rooms available for this purpose.

*

“Hi there, have you eaten?”

Morgan looked up from the papers she’d been pretending to study and flashed a weak smile at her visitor. “Hi, Jim. Actually, no. I haven’t.”

“Then join me. I was about to head to out for lunch.”

Morgan vacillated between her desire to wallow in self-pity over the incident with Parker and the competing desire to socialize in this new environment. The recent confrontation had robbed her of an appetite, but she realized life on campus was so much easier when you had some friends or at least acquaintances to point out all the inside information. She hated continually bugging Yolanda with questions, so she’d best buck up and make nice with Jim Spencer. He had taught at the university for so long there was likely nothing he didn’t know. Morgan pushed aside lingering regret over her disturbing encounter with Parker and agreed to join him for lunch.

“Thanks, Jim. I’d love to join you.”

Within twenty minutes they had walked across the street and were seated at Peggy Sue BBQ in Snyder Plaza, a unique blend of upscale shops, eclectic restaurants, and college textbook stores. Morgan glanced over the menu and remarked, “Good thing I’m not a vegetarian.”

“Oops, guess I should’ve asked,” Jim said. “I hope you like barbeque. It’s kind of a prerequisite if you’re going to live in Texas.”

Morgan smiled. “I guess Dean Ramirez didn’t tell you I grew up here. I’ve eaten more than my fair share of brisket and ribs over the years.”

“Well then, I challenge you to a rib-eating duel. Let’s order the combination rib platter and see who can eat the most!”

Laughing at his exuberance, Morgan placed her order, eschewing his challenge in favor of a brisket plate with fried okra and squash casserole. As Jim gave his order to their waitress, she sized him up. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties, with graying hair. She could tell he cared about his appearance. He wore an expensive suit, carefully tailored, definitely not off the rack. Many full-time professors opted for the “I don’t need to conform to the image of workaday lawyers,” which resulted in a poorly matched, ill-fitting parade of outfits. Morgan was relieved to see she wasn’t the only one to buck the trend.

Morgan decided to use the time waiting for their food to gently pump Jim for information about the school, and she decided to be direct about it.

“So, Jim, tell me everything I need to know about our fine law school to make this year go as smoothly as possible.”

“Ah, a lady who cuts to the chase. I like, I like.” Jim cocked his head. “First, let me be direct. Do you have dinner plans for Saturday night?”

“Turnabout is fair play, I suppose. I’ll be equally direct. I do not have dinner plans, but I am fresh from a breakup and have no interest in anything other than platonic friendships.” Morgan decided she could be direct without full disclosure. As far as she knew, Yo was the only one on faculty who knew she was a lesbian and, while she didn’t go out of her way to hide her sexual orientation, she didn’t feel the need to advertise it either.

“So, you’re not gay, just freshly burned?”

Though their exchange had thus far been refreshingly direct, Morgan was taken aback by the focus on her sexuality. She was used to speculation about her sexual orientation. Living in the limelight, as she had the last decade, she’d had to face the question from inquiring press minds. Somehow she’d managed to deflect, quick to point out the subject was entirely irrelevant to the issue at hand, which usually concerned one of her cases or a case on which she was asked to consult. She had declined all requests for personal interviews and, she reflected with a grimace, she and Tina had been living separate lives for so long the mere fact they shared an address didn’t provide any direct evidence of an intimate relationship between them. She stared across the table attempting to assess his sincerity. Finally calculating her trust would be well placed with Jim Spencer—after all, Yo would certainly have warned her otherwise—she decided to tell him the truth.