Unlawful Attraction

This Story Does Not End Well

I'm going to put it out there from the beginning.  This story does not end well.  I'm not a moron, I know that folks want a romance that ends with walking into the sunset, flowers, bunnies, angels trumpeting from heaven.  Happily ever after shit.  This story is not that.  It is however, a story of how I fell in love with the wrong person and in so, made the best decision of my life.

My story begins as all epic romances do, on the campus of a top level law school in a non descript college town.  I was thrilled to begin my first day as the newest faculty member at Hampden School of Law teaching contracts to eager 1Ls.  I'd worked my whole life for this, graduating from university at 17, heading to law school at 18 and completing there at the top of my class.  I spent the next fifteen years at a top firm in New York, working my ass off on major commercial contracts for Fortune 500 companies.  Now I was finally realizing my dream of working in academia.  At 36 years old, I was the youngest tenured faculty member on staff.  The law school was pretty excited to brag about me and though I was nervous about moving to a new town and a new job, i must admit I was pretty proud too.  

Was I looking for romance at this point in time?  No freakin' way.  I had a life plan, and if there was anything I was good at, it was sticking to a plan.  And did I expect to find romance among a bunch of over eager first year law students a good decade younger than myself?  Dear reader, you know the answer.  So blow me over with a textbook when one crisp October morning I crash right into the love which changed my life forever.  It was the kind of fall morning where you pull on your tights and  boots and actually think for a moment about buying a pumpkin spice latte.  You don't,  because you're not so basic but you definitely think about it.  My walk to work looked like a montage for an autumn special.  My curly black hair was loose over my shoulders, the humidity of the summer having given way to the cooler temperatures that my natural curls loved.  I wore a black knee length wool dress with tall boots.  My wine coloured blazer perfectly complimented my chocolate brown skin and I tossed a light scarf around my neck.  I'm not going to lie, I looked not so bad for pushing 40. 

 I was scheduled to sit in on a guest lecture from  a non profit legal clinic dedicated to poverty law. The talk on reparations class action law suits was eagerly anticipated and when i arrived in Hampsted's largest lecture hall, there were hardly any seats left.  I squeezed my way to the front, navigating through desks and chattering students and professors.  As my contract/commercial department was co sponsoring this lecture, I got to sit on the raised stage off to the side with the other professors.  I sat down, nodded to Ted Samson, who had been teaching Business Transactions at Hampsted since Plato first started philosophizing on the law.  I busied myself with straightening my dress and blazer so Ted wouldn't start talking to me about the only topic he thought we had in common - basketball.  I actually know nothing about basketball but decided to not dwell too hard on the reasons why Ted thought I should know about basketball.  I scanned the crowd of faces, looking for familiar students.  I had encouraged my Ethics in Commercial Transactions class to attend the lecture.  I noticed one face seated in the second row directly in front of me. He was staring very intently at my crossed legs.  For a moment, I thought I had something embarrassing on me, ripped tights, perhaps, and I looked down at myself.  Seeing nothing amiss, I looked back at him and he stared right back at me, a slight smile on his way too handsome face.  Reflexively, I almost smiled back, but caught myself when I realized I probably shouldn't be eye fucking a first year law student.  Despite the fact that he was tall and sexy in that  Clark Kent way I liked, he was most definitely a decade younger than me.  At least.  I could feel his eyes scanning me from head to toe but did my best to ignore him and concentrate on the speaker who had just walked onto the stage. When the lecture ended an hour and a half later,  I had almost forgotten about Clark Kent.  I made my way through the crowd to the exit, stopping to speak with a student or two.  I felt an arm brush almost imperceptibly along my lower back.  

"Sorry", a deep velvety voice said close to my ear, "I didn't mean to fall into you".  

I looked up and it was him.  He was even taller than I expected.  And he stood close enough to me to smell his fresh soapy scent.  I looked into his dark brown eyes framed by lashes that should be criminal on a man.  I tried my best to sound professional even though my heart was thumping a mile a minute and my face had gotten hot.  

"No problem", I choked out, "it's pretty hot ...I mean crowded, in here". 

 My face grew even warmer.  Get your shit together, Nia, I thought.  I gave him what I hoped was a serious nod and walked out of the auditorium.  Heading to my office, I started to laugh at myself.  It had been a long time since I was thrown off like that about a hot guy.  I pride myself on being fairly self possessed and here I was acting like a teenager.  As I turned the corner I heard rapid footsteps behind me.  

"Hey".  I recognized his voice immediately as if it had been part of my consciousness my whole life.  

"Yes?" I said, raising one eyebrow.  Students rarely just said "hey" without the "professor" attached.  He walked right over to me, closer than I was truly comfortable yet I felt a thrill whisper over my skin.

"Hey", he said again, "I don't believe we've met before. I'm Brian Morehouse. I started the semester late.  I'm wondering if I could take you out for a drink sometime?"

I gaped at him in a way that was not exactly becoming.  One thing about this town that I had noticed almost immediately was that men were in general more conservative than in New York.  In New York, if a man thought you were good looking, he would say it. Sometimes in a complimentary way, sometimes like a caveman for whom "feminist" was a dirty word.  Either way, I got used to the direct way that men would approach me.  It was very different here, the men looked but rarely made a move and I learned that "let's get coffee" was a euphemism for "i'm interested but too shy to call it a date".  Brian clearly had none of those hang ups and on top of it, did not seem to realize that he was asking a professor out.  I looked up at him, trying to ignore the dimple in his smile.  

"Look, it's nice to meet you, but I am a professor here you know so..." I shrugged. 

He looked directly into my eyes, his dimple deepening mischievously "I know that, and won't hold that against you.  So what about that drink?"