Personal Jurisdiction (6 page)

The rest of the week passed by in a blur. Whitney’s other professors seemed mild compared to Professor Neals. Her favorite so far was Professor Isaac Chaplin, who taught Civil Procedure, seemed to have real office hours, and did not insist on assigned seating in his classroom. Even though Whitney knew that the majority of people would sit in the same seat all year anyways, she hated the thought of assigned seating. It made her feel like a child in grade school.

Late Friday afternoon, Whitney made her way up to the library, her casebooks in tow. The whole place was deserted. Elise had tried to convince her to go out tonight, but Whitney was exhausted from the week and already felt behind on everything. Besides, whenever anyone said they should “go out”, all Whitney could see were the dollar signs on the price lists at the bar. She was too tired right now to deal with the stress of figuring out how to order drinks within her budget. Elise was not easy to put off, but finally gave it a rest when Whitney agreed to go to brunch with Jamie and Elise on Sunday. Elise insisted they must “brunch”, because that’s what all fashionable ladies do. Jamie responded that if you use brunch as a verb, you are trying too hard. Whitney tended to agree with Jamie, but she did love brunch. Or brunching. Or, really, just eating a ton of food in the morning. Whatever you wanted to call it. And she could get away with just drinking coffee and not alcohol at brunch, which made it much cheaper than a night at a bar.

Whitney took the elevator to the top floor of the library and found a spot next to the massive windows overlooking Lake Michigan. It was exceptionally warm for September, and the lake was littered with boaters eager to take advantage of the last breaths of good weather before Chicago’s winter made its presence felt. Whitney left her books unopened for a few minutes, watching the boaters and feeling jealous of their carefree lives. In her mind, none of them had problems or overwhelming responsibilities. They all had perfect jobs that allowed them ample time and money to float along the lake, soaking in the sunshine. She imagined herself joining them in a cute, frilly sundress, holding a cold beer and watching the sun fade away behind the city’s skyline.

“Is this seat taken?”

Whitney snapped out of her daydream and looked up at the voice, hoping she had not been making weird faces as her imagination ran wild. Oh god, it was Ben, standing right next to her and looking amazing in his jeans and casual black t-shirt. His hair had its usual slightly mussed up look that she had been secretly admiring all week.

“Oh, hey! No, it’s all yours. Sit down. What are you doing here? It’s Friday night!”

“Said the pot to the kettle,” Ben said.

“Touché,” Whitney said. She did not bother to point out that Ben was sexy, smart, and funny, and she was awkward and boring. Surely,
he
had better things to do on a Friday night. Well, okay, she did not actually know if he was funny, since she had not had much of a chance to talk to him yet. But she imagined he was. “I’m just feeling a little bit like I need to play catch-up after this week. Which is funny because I tried so hard to be prepared.”

“I hear you,” Ben said. “Professor Neals is terrifying.”

“Yeah,” Whitney said. “Kate was kind of mean to Elise after that first class, don’t you think?” Whitney was testing the waters. She wanted to know if Ben seemed defensive of Kate. After watching Kate this week, it was obvious that she was interested in Ben. Kate tried to sit by him in every class and was always “casually” tagging along wherever he went, nodding enthusiastically at everything he said even if it was just a comment about how weak the coffee at the school’s on-site café was. Not that Whitney did not want to do the same thing. But she refused to be so embarrassingly obvious about it.

Ben shrugged. “She’s probably just glad it wasn’t her.” Whitney was not sure how to interpret that statement, and decided to just let it go. She tried to think of something else to say. She could ask more questions about schoolwork, but there were so many other things she would rather discuss with him.

“So, you’re Alex’s roommate, right?” Whitney decided this was a safe place to start.

“Yeah, I met him last spring, and we hit it off. I’m a little embarrassed to admit this but I’ve never lived on my own, and I was nervous to start now. After college I worked in L.A. for a while, and everyone had a roommate. It was easier, you know, always having someone down to hang out…” Ben trailed off, seeming unsure of what else to say. Whitney thought that if not wanting to give up the roommate thing was the only reason he had to be embarrassed, then he was not doing too badly.

“I thought you said you were from San Francisco?”

“Yeah, I grew up in the Bay Area, and I went to Stanford for undergrad. But then I worked in L.A. for a few years. In finance.”

There it was. Stanford. Of course he had gone to an Ivy League school. His job had probably been amazing, too—something you would actually want on your résumé when you started interviewing with law firms. Whitney was getting tired of hearing the same story with slightly varying details: Ivy League school, kick-ass job, parents bankrolling some or all of law school. It was all anyone had talked about this week, and it was getting old. She knew Ben was about to ask her for details of her own background, and she did not want to talk about it. Not only because she was embarrassed at her lack of accomplishments compared to him and everyone else in this group of overachieving Type As, but also because she was getting downright bored with the subject.

She had called Rachel on Wednesday to complain about how left out she felt, and Rachel had been uncharacteristically unsympathetic. First, Rachel, who had never been a fan of Whitney’s law school plans, said “I told you so.” Whitney felt like that was a shitty thing for a best friend to say. That is something your mom says to you, or maybe your know-it-all coworker. Not your best friend. Besides, Whitney was not saying law school had been a mistake, or that she was giving up. She was just saying she had had a rough first week and was feeling out of place. Then, Rachel had gone on about how accomplished Whitney was, pointing out that she had a Bachelor’s degree, even if it was not from an Ivy League school. And Whitney had done well at her job and received a promotion to management. So what if it was not a prestigious internship or glamorous position at a startup? She had done good, substantive work. Why not just be thankful for what she had? Whitney had hung up the phone feeling even more alone.

“Whitney? Whitney, are you still with me?” Ben’s voice brought Whitney out of her reverie.

“What? Yeah, sorry. Just…I don’t know. Long week.”

“Ha, well, I’m sure my tirade about the world of finance is not helping any. What about you? What were you doing before deciding you were crazy enough to subject yourself to law school?”

“I went to the University of Texas. Majored in English. Worked in a call center. That’s about it.” Whitney had found that the less details she offered about her life before law school, the less confused people seemed to be. And her short responses seemed to keep them from asking more questions.

“A call center, huh?

“Yup. The job was almost as boring as your rant about finance,” Whitney said, then immediately regretted taking a dig at Ben. But Ben just laughed and raised his hands in the surrender position.

“Okay, okay. New subject. No more talking about boring old jobs. Maybe we should talk about boring old legal reading instead. Then, once we get caught up on class work, I say we ditch this joint and grab something to eat. It is Friday night after all, and I’m starving!”

“Deal!” Whitney said, as a huge grin spread across her face. She could not believe her luck! She had resigned herself to a boring Friday night in the library, and now she was going to get to spend the evening with Ben! She knew this derailed her plans to save money, but at the moment she did not care. “I’ve also got snacks, if you want something to tide you over,” she said, and pulled a bag of peanut M&Ms out of her bag.

“Yes!” Ben said, reaching for the bag without hesitation. “I’m going to have to study with you more often!”

I hope you do, thought Whitney, her pulse quickening as she watched Ben’s perfect blue eyes sparkling in the library’s dim light. I really hope you do.

* * *

About an hour and a half later, Whitney and Ben stepped out of the law school building and into the crisp evening air. The warm afternoon sun had given way to a cool Chicago evening, and Whitney shivered as they were greeted by a small gust of wind. She was nervous about the upcoming winter, especially since she did not have much in the way of cold weather gear. She was worried about how much it was going to cost to buy winter clothing necessities. She felt a slight pang of guilt at the fact that she was about to spend money on a Friday night out, especially after blowing off Elise’s pleas to hang out. But, she had not dated since The Breakup. Not even a single date. At first she had been too devastated, and then she had been too busy studying for the LSAT. Once she knew she was moving to Chicago, it seemed pointless to start a relationship with someone in Dallas. Whitney hated the idea of long distance. Of course, tonight was not a date. But maybe, if she and Ben had the chance to get to know each other, something more than just law school study buddies could develop.

“So, where should we go?” Ben asked.

“Um, I’m not sure. I don’t know many places around here, yet.”

“Yeah, same for me. Still getting settled in. Although, there’s this Italian place a few blocks away that I tried when I was here to tour the law school last spring. It was pretty good.”

“Italian sounds fantastic!”

“Great, I could go for some carb-loading, since I have a
marathon
study session tomorrow.”

Whitney laughed. “Wow, you and Alex do make good roommates. You’re both fans of cheesy jokes.”

Ben shrugged. “Alex is cool. He’s also really into food. If you want someone to show you the good places to eat around Chicago, I suggest you stay friendly with him. He’s bound to have them scoped out in no time. Come to think of it, you guys were talking for a long time at the bar last week.” Ben raised his eyebrow quizzically.

Whitney felt her cheeks redden when she realized Ben’s implication. “Oh! No! It wasn’t anything like that. It was just, you know, one of those long conversations you randomly get into at a bar. He was telling me about the foodie scene in New Mexico.” Whitney wondered if Alex had said anything to Ben about Alex’s awkward attempt to kiss her. Was Ben jealous? Was he asking because he wanted to know if she was available? She felt panicked. She did not want Ben getting the idea that she was off limits because of Alex. “We’re just friends. Alex and I. I mean, we barely even know each other. We just met that day and were just making small talk. Nothing serious. Not at all.”

Great, now she was rambling again. Ben raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. No big deal. I was just curious.” They had arrived at the restaurant and Ben held the door open for her. The aroma of Italian food that hit her as she stepped into the restaurant was divine. She had not realized how hungry she was.

The restaurant was quiet and the lights were low. A candle lit every table and jazz music played softly in the background. There was a definite romantic ambience to the room, and Whitney felt her heart ache a little bit. She was excited to be having dinner with Ben, but she found herself wishing that this was a real date. It had been so long since she had gazed across a table at someone and felt the spark of mutual attraction.

“Should we order a bottle of wine?” Ben asked. Whitney cringed a little bit. This was going to be an expensive night. The entrées were not cheap, and a bottle of wine, even split, was going to considerably add to the cost of her bill. But she did not want to spend the evening worrying about money. She wanted to enjoy getting to know Ben, and she wanted to enjoy a Friday night out for once. She decided to forget about money for the evening. Just once, she would pretend that she was like all the other law students she had met, with plenty of disposable income to squander.

“Sure! Let’s get a bottle and celebrate completing our first week of law school!”

Ben smiled and pointed to a Pinot noir, asking if it was alright. Whitney nodded. As much as she enjoyed drinking wine, she was terrible at picking bottles, especially from a wine list with no cute labels to help her choose. She chuckled as she remembered Alex’s horrified expression when she told him her wine selection method.

“What’s so funny?”

Damn. Ben had caught her laughing because of Alex. Whitney tried to quickly think of an excuse, then decided to just tell Ben the truth but leave Alex out of the story. “Oh, I was just thinking about how it’s difficult for me to choose wine from a list. My normal method for choosing a bottle is to pick the one with the cutest label.”

Ben’s jaw dropped slightly. “You’re kidding me!”

Whitney shook her head. “Nope. That is my supremely sophisticated method for choosing wine.”

Ben threw his head back and laughed. The kind of loud, uninhibited laugh you use when you are having a great time with a good friend. The server came and took their orders, and the meal continued in a similar lighthearted fashion. They finished the first bottle of wine with their appetizers, and ordered a second with their entrées. Then Ben ordered dessert and a third bottle of wine, over Whitney’s protests. Although they had taken their time drinking the wine, and Ben had been drinking more than his fair share of the bottles that they had already consumed, Whitney could feel herself on the verge of being all-out drunk. She was giggling an obscene amount at everything Ben said, but she could not seem to stop herself. He did not seem to notice, though. Probably because he was drunk as well. When the server finally dropped off their bill, Whitney forced herself to forget her worries about money and just enjoy Ben’s company. She had been right about him—he
was
funny. He seemed so nice, too. She asked about his family, and right away could tell that he was a momma’s boy.