got all bases covered.”
T EN
“Y ou know I’ve got your back, dude, but the thing’s an inartfully drafted piece of crap,” Andy said emphatically. He was referring to the city ordinance outlawing discrimination in public places—the one the city relied on in its noble pursuit of equality against Vito. “Some poor kid interning for the city one summer probably got roped into putting it together.” Knowing Andy, he’d memorized the damned thing already.
“I can only imagine,” replied Dillon coolly. He wasn’t the most diligent fellow, a quality he flaunted proudly. Dillon, with his near-genius IQ, was one of those lawyers who got by on instincts and common sense alone. Legend had it that he refused to crack a book back in law school and then scored near-perfect exams without even studying. Although uncorroborated, he also claimed he got a perfect score on the LSATs. Hungover, no less.
“I glanced at it before I came over,” said Hunter.
Andy wouldn’t let up. It was as if he was personally offended by the incompetence that went into the legislation. “I don’t think it passes constitutional muster.”
“That’s not Hunter’s problem, though, Andy,” snapped Dillon, three vodka tonics in. “Hunter’s assignment is to advocate, not play judge and jury, for God’s sake. Or corrupt politician, for that matter.”
“Chill out, dude,” Andy replied. “You’re preaching to the choir. We’re all just trying to brainstorm here.”
“Is that so? Because I think you’re starting to lose perspective, my friend. Must be those rose-colored sunglasses,” Dillon jabbed.
“You’re hysterical.” Andy was peeved, coming off like the school nerd or a little brother at his breaking point with an older sibling’s abuse.
“Just calling it the way I see it. I don’t think you’re doing anyone any favors playing devil’s advocate. It’s not an option, bro.”
“And I’m calling it the way I see it!”
“Both of you guys! Enough. Why don’t we just agree to disagree?”
“Are you fucking serious?” asked Dillon.
Hunter ignored Dillon’s noise. “So,” he directed his question to Andy, “you think his lawyers will focus on the validity of the ordinance? Instead of whether Vito’s sign was discriminatory? As a smokescreen?” Andy’s insights were almost always provocative.
“My only point.”
“I still think you overcomplicate things,” said Dillon under his breath.
Above the din, Andy’s cell phone rang. Andy stared at the caller ID of the outdated cell phone.
“Who could that be?” asked Dillon.
“Shit!” Andy said.
Hunter and Dillon shared an amused look.
“The ball and chain?” asked Dillon.
“Hypocrite.”
“Please.”
As a matter of law, Dillon was also married. But he was the least-committed married guy Hunter had ever met, with no ring and seemingly no responsibility. His wife, a medical resident at Jefferson Hospital, was never home, for Christ’s sake. They had no kids. She just had a killer body and family money out the yin yang. As if Hunter’s fear of commitment weren’t bad enough after being cuckolded by his ex-girlfriend back in law school, there was Dillon singlehandedly reinventing the marital contract.
“Let it go,” advised Dillon.
“Stop, Dillon.”
Andy stared at the phone catatonically as it continued to ring, relentless.
“Send the hoe to voicemail,” slurred Dillon.
Just as Andy stepped away to answer it, it went to voicemail. “Shit! Shit!” Andy tried to collect himself. “All right. I’ve got to…I’ve…” he stammered.
“I should probably do the same myself.” Drinks were seemingly futile at this point. Hunter couldn’t begin to clear his head. He dreaded it, but he knew the only solution was to immerse himself in the case.
“You too?” Dillon raised his arm for emphasis. “Thanks a lot, wingman.”
Hunter grabbed his case. “You know I can’t condone that kind of behavior. Alexandra will never
T EN
“Y ou know I’ve got your back, dude, but the thing’s an inartfully drafted piece of crap,” Andy said emphatically. He was referring to the city ordinance outlawing discrimination in public places—the one the city relied on in its noble pursuit of equality against Vito. “Some poor kid interning for the city one summer probably got roped into putting it together.” Knowing Andy, he’d memorized the damned thing already.
“I can only imagine,” replied Dillon coolly. He wasn’t the most diligent fellow, a quality he flaunted proudly. Dillon, with his near-genius IQ, was one of those lawyers who got by on instincts and common sense alone. Legend had it that he refused to crack a book back in law school and then scored near-perfect exams without even studying. Although uncorroborated, he also claimed he got a perfect score on the LSATs. Hungover, no less.
“I glanced at it before I came over,” said Hunter.
Andy wouldn’t let up. It was as if he was personally offended by the incompetence that went into the legislation. “I don’t think it passes constitutional muster.”
“That’s not Hunter’s problem, though, Andy,” snapped Dillon, three vodka tonics in. “Hunter’s assignment is to advocate, not play judge and jury, for God’s sake. Or corrupt politician, for that matter.”
“Chill out, dude,” Andy replied. “You’re preaching to the choir. We’re all just trying to brainstorm here.”
“Is that so? Because I think you’re starting to lose perspective, my friend. Must be those rose-colored sunglasses,” Dillon jabbed.
“You’re hysterical.” Andy was peeved, coming off like the school nerd or a little brother at his breaking point with an older sibling’s abuse.
“Just calling it the way I see it. I don’t think you’re doing anyone any favors playing devil’s advocate. It’s not an option, bro.”
“And I’m calling it the way I see it!”
“Both of you guys! Enough. Why don’t we just agree to disagree?”
“Are you fucking serious?” asked Dillon.
Hunter ignored Dillon’s noise. “So,” he directed his question to Andy, “you think his lawyers will focus on the validity of the ordinance? Instead of whether Vito’s sign was discriminatory? As a smokescreen?” Andy’s insights were almost always provocative.
“My only point.”
“I still think you overcomplicate things,” said Dillon under his breath.
Above the din, Andy’s cell phone rang. Andy stared at the caller ID of the outdated cell phone.
“Who could that be?” asked Dillon.
“Shit!” Andy said.
Hunter and Dillon shared an amused look.
“The ball and chain?” asked Dillon.
“Hypocrite.”
“Please.”
As a matter of law, Dillon was also married. But he was the least-committed married guy Hunter had ever met, with no ring and seemingly no responsibility. His wife, a medical resident at Jefferson Hospital, was never home, for Christ’s sake. They had no kids. She just had a killer body and family money out the yin yang. As if Hunter’s fear of commitment weren’t bad enough after being cuckolded by his ex-girlfriend back in law school, there was Dillon singlehandedly reinventing the marital contract.
“Let it go,” advised Dillon.
“Stop, Dillon.”
Andy stared at the phone catatonically as it continued to ring, relentless.
“Send the hoe to voicemail,” slurred Dillon.
Just as Andy stepped away to answer it, it went to voicemail. “Shit! Shit!” Andy tried to collect himself. “All right. I’ve got to…I’ve…” he stammered.
“I should probably do the same myself.” Drinks were seemingly futile at this point. Hunter couldn’t begin to clear his head. He dreaded it, but he knew the only solution was to immerse himself in the case.
“You too?” Dillon raised his arm for emphasis. “Thanks a lot, wingman.”
Hunter grabbed his case. “You know I can’t condone that kind of behavior. Alexandra will never
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