Seeing Black (13 page)

“No, sweetie, wait! I didn’t mean that it isn’t okay
with me for you to date Oliver. That’s great. I kind of already
thought you were. I mean you guys are together a lot.”

“Not really. It’s only when you and Alexander are
with us.”

Jill hadn’t really noticed, but it was true. Oliver
tended to tag along with Alexander to their apartment but never
came by on his own. Well, not since they had returned from the
island. “Oh, well, it’s fine with me. I’m happy for you, Heather.
He’s such a great guy. Hell, I think he’s a great guy, but I don’t
know the difference between a great guy and a crappy cheating
bastard, apparently.”

“That’s not true. I’m telling you, there’s something
you’re missing. You need to speak with Alex. He wouldn’t do that to
you.”

“Well, he has my number. He can call and explain
whenever he so wishes. What I meant was absolutely no to you
speaking to Oliver about my issues with his brother. Please, don’t
mention anything. One of the things he and I promised each other
was that if Xander and I pursued a relationship and it didn’t work
out, he didn’t want to be caught in the middle. I made a promise to
him that I wouldn’t involve him, so please promise me you won’t
mention it to him.”

“Sure thing, hon’.” Heather sat next to Jill on her
bed. “You going to be okay?”

Jill shook her head side to side and shrugged. Her
voice broke when she said, “I don’t think so.” She had tried to be
strong and controlled, but it just wasn’t possible any longer. She
covered her face with her hands, bent forward, and began to
sob.

Heather lay down next to Jill and hugged her,
letting her cry until her breathing evened out and she fell
asleep.

It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be
both.

-Niccolo Machiavelli

The following day, Sunday, Alexander called Jillian
again. She didn’t answer again. When she’d awoken, she’d seen four
missed calls from his number.

He left her a voicemail asking—no, begging—for her
to call him back. “Jill, love, please, please call me. Have you
heard any of my messages? I want to explain. I wanted to explain
earlier but couldn’t. In class, we never had a chance alone to
talk. God, listen to me? When did I turn into a whining little
pussy? The phone call was an emergency. A girl I used to party
with, Miriam, was in trouble. She was the person who helped me
sober up after I overdosed. She was using again and needed my help.
It was real bad for a few days. She was detoxing and refused to go
to the hospital. That’s why I didn’t go to class and why it was
hard to answer the phone. Anyway, she’s better now. I called her
sister, and she’s coming to get her tomorrow morning. Please call
me. I miss you.”

Then he sent a text.

ALEXANDER: Please call me. I want
to explain. Have you heard my voicemails?

An hour later. . .

ALEXANDER: I’ll see you tomorrow
at the mock trial clinics. You can’t avoid me forever. I love you
too much. Listen to your voicemails or call me! Can I drive you to
class tomorrow?

JILL: No. See you in
class.

Jill heard all the messages and read all the texts
right before she went to bed. Although still upset and not
completely convinced, she did go to sleep a little bit more at ease
than she had the last week. For some reason, naïve or not, his
excuse sounded more plausible than him cheating on her. He just
wouldn’t do that to her. Or would he?

***

Monday morning, Alexander stormed into the large
auditorium with two minutes to spare. He’d wanted to get there
early so that he could talk with Jill, but, of course, he was
running late. He scanned the crowded room and immediately spotted
her. She was like a beacon. She wore a gray pantsuit, her red hair
perfectly picked up in a bun. All the students looked professional;
they were required to dress as if they were conducting a real
trial. She, however, oozed a sexuality that couldn’t be hidden
beneath a lawyerly pantsuit. There were no chairs available by her.
He made his way across the aisle of students and squatted down in
front of her. Jill’s head was down; she was writing into a legal
pad. He placed his hand on her knee, and her head jolted up.

“Jillian?” He whispered.

Her eyes widened to the size of green plates. “Right
now is not the time or place, okay?” she whispered back. “I heard
your voicemail.”

“So you understand?” He stopped breathing for the
second it took her to reply.

“Not really. You have a lot of explaining to do, but
not now. I need to prepare. So do you. Just go,” she said, looking
back down at her notebook.

Disheartened, Alexander stood and made his way to an
available seat at the front of the courtroom. The side door to the
auditorium opened, and in walked a very familiar figure with tall,
pitch black hair. Professor Paul Black. It amazed Jillian, after
all he had done to her, that he still took her breath away with his
mysterious persona and his overall demeanor. The man was intense
and sexy, and she was just a woman, after all.

Without missing a single beat, Paul and Alexander’s
eyes locked. Jill could see from where she sat that Alexander’s
nose flared, his cheeks reddened, and his knuckles were white from
being fisted closed. He looked as if he were going to stand up and
confront him. They had not seen each other since Paul and Jill had
broken up, and she had never confronted him about the text Heather
found. Jill could see it took every single ounce of Alexander’s
self-control not to rush over and punch Paul right in the nose. She
hadn’t expected to see Black. He was supposed to be organizing the
seminar, but not teaching it.

Awkwardly, Paul cleared his throat. “Good morning,
ladies and gentlemen. I hope you are all ready and understand the
ins and outs of this case. You don’t know which role you will be
assigned, but you are expected to rally behind your client whether
you are his attorney or opposing counsel. Remember the facts of the
case. Since this is only the first week, the case is relatively
simple. The victim was allegedly sexually assaulted by the
defendant at a party. You can make up some of the facts yourself.
In this bag, you will find the words:
victim, witness,
plaintiff, judge, defense counsel,
and
state attorney
.
Since we have an odd number of students in the class, I will be
playing the victim in one of the groups. While a trial is in
session, the groups that are not actively participating must
quietly watch from the audience section of the courtroom. I hope
you all understand. You will be graded on a point system. The
graders will be sitting back there.” Paul pointed to the back of
the class at a panel of three judges. “They are judges and lawyers
from our community. The stakes are high. This is a very prestigious
competition, and most winners in the past have been immediately
hired by top firms upon graduation.”

There were some oohs and aahs from the classroom as
the each of the students stood up and grabbed a piece of paper from
the bag Paul held. When Jill was almost in front of Black,
Alexander magically appeared at her side. He placed his hand on the
small of her back, leading her the rest of the steps. Jill tried to
step away from Alexander’s reach, but his hand snaked around her
waist and pulled her close to him. She glared at him, but his eyes
didn’t falter from staring at Black. “Stop manhandling me,” Jill
whispered.

“Jillian.” Black whispered, sounding almost pained.
His eyes moved back and forth between Jill and Alexander.
Alexander’s arm tightened. Jill didn’t meet Paul’s gaze. She just
reached into the bag.

Alexander gently pushed Jill aside and stepped in
front of her and whispered, “I know what you fucking did, Black. Do
not fucking speak to her. You’ve hurt her enough.” The two towering
men were inches from each other. Two lions squaring off. It looked
as if Alexander were going to hit Paul, but instead, he reached
into the bag and pulled out a paper. “You and I have things to talk
about, Black.” He stepped away and towards Jill. Jill just stared
at the two men, speechless, as Alexander led her back to her
seat.

“What did you get?” Alexander asked her.

“Huh?” She was too astounded to speak. Alexander
pointed to the paper she held in her hand. “Oh. Uh . . .” She
opened it and read it. “State attorney. You?”

“Judge.”

“Pfft! Figures.”

“What does that mean?” Alexander asked.

“That’s the easiest role.”

“We’ll see about that. I wonder whose group I’m
in?”

“It’s on the back. It says either one, two, or
three. I’m in group one. You?”

“Well, look at that. So am I. You can’t seem to get
rid of me, Red.” He kissed her cheek and Jill pulled away. “I’m
sorry I stormed out on Saturday night. I should have called and
explained, but Miriam was in crisis, and I had to help her. She
helped me get sober. I had to do the same for her. I owed her
that.”

Jill shook her head side to side. “I don’t know what
to believe. I want to trust you, but seeing her in nothing but a
towel in your house, while you slept, coupled with the fact that
she said she was,” Jill looked around before poking him with her
index finger, “your fucking girlfriend . . . Well, you can see
where it may be just a teensy bit difficult to fucking believe
you.” She whispered-yelled at him.

“You were in my house? When?”

“Last week. I was worried. And that
person
said she was your girlfriend!”

“Miriam? No way. You must have misunderstood. She
would never say that. She’s just a friend I was helping. You heard
the voicemail. I had to help her. She’s not a liar. You
misunderstood her, Jill. And now you’re being overly dramatic about
the whole thing.”

Before Jill had a chance to answer, Black was
calling the class to order. Thank God for the interruption because
Jill had a sudden urge to slap Alexander right across the face. How
dare he accuse
her
of lying! “Okay class. Settle down. You
all now know which group you’re in and what role you are to play.
You have half hour to prepare and speak with your clients and
witness. Group one, be back in the court room by 10:30. I will play
the victim for group one. Who is the state attorney? We should talk
since I am your number-one witness.”

Jill whimpered and under her breath mumbled, “God,
can I ever get a break?” She walked towards Paul, Professor Black.
“It’s me. I’m the state attorney.”

In a nanosecond, Alexander was by her side again. He
was shooting daggers at Paul. His hand held Jill’s forearm.

Jill turned to Alexander, pulling her arm away from
him. “You need to leave. This is important. You’re the judge, and
you can’t be here while I prep my witness. I am so pissed at you
that I can’t even think straight.”

“This asshole,” he pointed to Paul who was standing
right in front Jill, “hurt you and Heather.”

“Heather? What are you talking about? Jillian, we
need to talk about this. You don’t understand. I didn’t mean to
hurt—”

“Both of you. Stop it! Just stop it!” She
whisper-shouted, again. “I’m a big girl. I can take it. I should
really be thanking you, both of you, actually. You both taught me a
big lesson. I’ve been too trusting, too naive. That’s over. Right
now, we’re in a room full of students and professors. This isn’t
the time or place. Get out, Alexander, and do whatever you need to
do to prepare. Paul, sit.” She pointed to the chair. “I have
questions to ask you.” She pulled out her legal pad, all
business.

Alexander sighed, loudly, and walked away, but not
too far.

For the first time since they met, Jillian had never
seen Paul so out of sorts “Okay. Why don’t you sit and we can
discuss this. Just pretend I’m the victim. Prep me as you would a
victim in a real trial.” He seemed softer, less intimidating. His
eyes reflected something akin to an apology, but Jill just ignored
it. It was all a ruse. She had read the text exchange between him
and Brian/Ben. He was a fraud, and she wouldn’t be played again,
not by Black and not by Alexander.

For the next few minutes, they sat in a corner and
discussed the case. She explained what she would ask and told him
to just make sure he played up the victim-in-distress role so that
she could win the case and the pretend-defendant would be found
guilty.

“Um, Jillian, are you okay with this? You seem
uncomfortable? I suppose I could recuse myself.”

“No, that’s fine. I’m fine. I mean you’re a lying
deceitful asshole, but I’m fine.” He recoiled, and she stood up
straighter, chin up. He would not see her self-doubt or the hurt he
left in the wake of his deceit.

“Jillian,” he reached forward for her hand, but she
pulled back. His hand fell by his side, and he whispered something
that sounded like an apology. “Why did Jacobs say I hurt
Heather?”

“Don’t pretend anymore. I know you were using me. I
know all about Brian or Ben or whatever the hell his name is. I
don’t know what hurts more: the fact that I actually fell for it or
your lie. This mock trial is very important to me, and I need to
focus on it. I don’t want to deal with your drama right now.”

“Fuck,” Black whispered. His face seemed full of
emotions she couldn’t decipher. “You have to let me explain. It’s
not what you think.”

“Jill, may I speak with you for a second.” Alexander
was standing behind her.

“It’s inappropriate for the judge to speak with one
of the counselors, Mr. Jacobs.” Paul stood close to Alexander as he
spoke.

“We haven’t begun yet. Either way, I don’t think you
have any say so on what is appropriate or not, Black. Everything
about this is inappropriate!” He hissed out the word
Black
instead of calling him Professor. Alexander grabbed Jill’s elbow
and led her out of hearing distance.