The Color of Law_ A Novel - Mark Gimenez [54]
Sitting on the edge of the pool, Pajamae said, “I haven’t been around this many white people since last year when Mama took me to the State Fair. Only time we see white people.”
“You haven’t missed much,” Boo said.
Pajamae waved her hand around. “Who are they?”
“Lawyer wannabes.”
“Whatabes?”
“Students A. Scott’s law firm is trying to hire.”
“Those are some homely white boys. But the girls are real pretty. Are they their women?”
“The cheerleaders?”
“They’re cheerleaders?”
“They used to be. A. Scott pays them to come to the party and act interested in the students, so they’ll hire on. He calls it bait and switch.”
“Bait and what?”
“Bait and switch, like when an ad in the paper says certain Rollerblades are on sale, but when you get to the store they say they’re sold out so you should buy another brand that costs more.”
“Oh, like when a trick tries to get Mama to lower her price after she gets in his car.”
“Someone tricked your mother into his car?”
“No, the trick—that’s the john.”
“The toilet?”
“No, a man who wants to buy Mama.”
“Your mother’s for sale?”
Pajamae nodded. “By the hour.”
“A. Scott sells himself by the hour, too. He calls them billable hours. He charges three hundred fifty dollars an hour.”
“Mama makes almost that much and she didn’t go to school.”
“Awesome. Anyway, these students think if they hire on with A. Scott’s law firm they’ll get dates with beautiful girls like these, but they really won’t.”
“If they pay enough, they will. Mama says it’s just a question of pricing.”
On brutally hot days like today, Bobby would often grab a beer, go out back of his two-bedroom, one-bath lean-to in East Dallas, and sit in a six-inch-deep inflatable pool—his version of a pool party. This pool party was a lot better. For one thing, the pool was bigger. And for another, his eyes weren’t closed and he wasn’t dreaming of a backyard full of beautiful girls in bikinis; his eyes were wide open and the girls were real. He was really happy Scotty had invited him.
Bobby was standing alone at one corner of the pool, a beer in one hand and a long pork rib in the other, dripping barbecue sauce on his bare belly and trying not to appear too obvious as he ogled the girls. He was wearing only swim trunks. His pale body was not lean and tanned and muscular like Scotty’s. Still, compared to the law students, he was feeling like a regular goddamned Adonis when an incredible looking girl in a white bikini sidled up to him, close enough that he could feel the warmth emanating from her skin. Without thinking, Bobby sucked in his gut—a little.
“Noticed you’re not wearing a wedding ring,” she said.
“That’s because I’m not married.”
“What a coincidence,” she said, turning her big eyes up to him. “Neither am I.”
Bobby had already downed several beers, so his courage was operating at its maximum level.
“So what’s a gorgeous single girl like yourself doing at a party like this?”
“Looking for a rich lawyer like you.”
You can’t fault honesty, Bobby thought, as she leaned into him and her breasts pushed together and rose as one until he thought they might pop out of her bikini top. The mere touch of her skin against his raised a distinct feeling in Bobby’s trunks.
“Well, just so you know, I don’t have a home like this, I’m not a rich lawyer, and chances are pretty good I’m never gonna be a rich lawyer. But, hey, we can still slip inside, find a quiet place, and screw ourselves silly.”
She pulled back as if she had suddenly discovered poison ivy all over his body. She gave him a thin smile and said, “I don’t think so.”
And