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This is a work of fiction. My experiences and likes influence all my writing, so there might be a nugget or two of truth somewhere within, but don't worry, it's carefully hidden... Any similarity with actual people or places is entirely coincidental.
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This story involves interracial sex between adult men. There is lot of crude stereotyping, role play, nasty and demeaning language and other things that might be called kinky or just plain ignorant. If any of this offends you, please leave now.
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If you are underage or if reading this is illegal where you are for any reason, please leave now.
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Attorney-Client Privilege, Chapter 5
I hadn't even walked in the courtroom when I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. It was Duda texting.
DUDA: Wassup, you wanna go to lunch today?
That was Duda-speak for "Do I wanna buy him lunch today?" Normally I would have been down, but today was already backing up. I suspected I would be missing lunch completely today.
I broke the news to him gently.
ME: Sorry bruh I got too much work, no time. Maybe tomorrow?
DUDA: OK. Hit me up latta.
He didn't seem all that disappointed. I didn't want to give him the cold shoulder. Even with Tyson filling my mind, I always had room for Duda. He was my friend. I owed him a lot.
ME: Will do, man. Maybe see you tonite.
DUDA: Not I'm fucking some broad. You know how the kid rolls. I'm lining shit up for latta.
ME: OK Playa. Or should I call you 'slaya' LOL
DUDA: You know how we do, boy.
ME: I know how YOU do, LOL.
DUDA: Yeah, you know too damn much. Smart boy.
ME: Well, I know if you do end up getting some pussy it won't take you long. Hit me up after you're done. I can wait ten minutes. LMFAO!!!
DUDA: Oh, bitch got jokes today. They be beggin me to STOP after ten minutes, that what U mean.
ME: Yeah, that's what I mean, of course that's what I mean... LOL
DUDA: I don't know why I fucks with you, punk. You suck. Literally! LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL
ME: How long have you been saving that lame punchline?
DUDA: Not long. Less time than it takes a 'brotha' to get in your pants.
ME: Nope, I'm a gentleman. I don't put out on the first date, or even the second date.
DUDA: Bitch, you've never even been on a date. You just put out. Period.
ME: LOL. You make me sound like such a whore. LOL
DUDA: If the dick fits...
ME: It always does.
DUDA: Imma stop fuckin with you before I throw up.
ME: LOL Ok bud
DUDA: Latta.
ME: Hit me up later for real. AFTER you take a shower. I don't want to smell it.
DUDA: I'm out, you nasty.
I loved Duda. I loved the banter with him. He was so crude, but I ate it up. I tried to keep up at his level.
I hoped he did score with a chick tonight. The story would be enjoyable to hear. And he would tell me every sordid detail. I loved sordid. Even if it didn't involve me.
And the smell of pussy wouldn't have kept me off his dick, if he had offered. Not that he would. Years in and I hadn't even seen his dick. That was a carrot to dream about, but it was pure fantasy.
But, it was time to get to work...
I worked through my clients in the main courtroom. I was a bit rushed, but there was nothing complicated and they each got their five minutes of face time. I few guilty pleas and they walked out content. Let justice be done...
I knew I had a special project in Courtroom 2B. I had at least one more client in there already, but I couldn't help but wonder about Tyson's friend, Darryl.
I scanned the folks in the courtroom from behind. It took me 5 seconds to find him.
He was an eye-catcher. Even from a afar I could tell he was built. Built like a brick shit house, as the old folks used to say.
I walked to the end of his row and called out his name. I still didn't know his last name, but it had been a busy morning...
Darryl got up and shuffled past the others to meet me at the end of the pew. The closer he got the more in awe I was.
He was about 6'2" and at least 230. Not one ounce of fat on him, though. He was solid muscle. Big arms, a big neck and even thick thighs. The only thing trim on him was his waist. He had an extremely dark complexion, almost shiny under the fluorescent lights. And hair dreaded-up but twisted up in rows that made a triangular pattern on the back of his head. It was a good look.
I tried not to drool. Or to sound like an idiot.
ME: Hey, Darryl, I'm Sy Symington. I've been referred to you by a friend. I'm your lawyer.
DARRYL: Sup?
ME: OK, I need your details. Date of birth. Full name. It will take me a minute to get a look at your file.
DARRYL: I been sitting here all mornin' and you ain't even worked on mah case yet??
The look of irritation was clear on his face and in his voice. This wasn't an uncommon reaction for my court-appointed clients. They were always surprised just how little contact they have with me before we go before the judge. Sometimes a trial commences with five minutes of preparation. This was district court. It was a cattle call. In and out. Fast and dirty justice. Or just fast and dirty.
But this wasn't one of my court-appointed clients. This was one of Tyson's boys. I suspected I would need to do a little hand-holding for this one. Other clients I could leave hanging, but I didn't think that was a good idea here.
ME: Let me take care of everything. I've been doing this a long time and I know what I 'm doing. Just give me your details. I just got the referral a little while ago.
DARRYL: Watchubeendoin for da last hour?
ME: Working with other clients in another courtroom. You're not even the only client I have in this courtroom today. I'm sorry, it's just been a busy morning, but it's not a problem. I promise.
Damn he was impatient. I tried to look as convincing as I could. I didn't want to irritate him. And pride made me talk this up anyway. I didn't want anyone to think I was a bad lawyer. He didn't seem convinced.
DARRYL: Uh huh. I don't like how dis shit goin' already.
I reached out and touched his arm. It was meant to be a sign of trust. He looked down at my hand and kept his eyes glancing down until I moved my hand. He didn't look like he felt the trust. He looked like he couldn't believe I had touched him. Great, this isn't going well!
He looked me dead in the eyes, like he was trying to figure out the next step. Working things out in his head. Then I saw him ease up.
DARRYL: Darryl Dorrety. D-O-R-R-E-T-Y.
ME: OK, Mr. Dorrety. Let me pull your file.
I walked up to the front of the courtroom and pulled his case sheaf. He had two continuances already. And the police officer that arrested him was in court that day. We might have to do something today. I wasn't sure if another rescheduling was possible. I was going to have to try.
The charge was domestic battery. He had slapped a woman at her apartment. Evidently he lived there some of the time. Some sort of argument had gotten out of hand. The police were called. He had a prior record. And he was a dude. So he got charged. It happens a thousand times a day. Maybe tens of thousands. Domestic charges against men were probably second only to drug charges in criminal court.
The police report was REALLY detailed. I rarely saw so much information. There was line after line regarding his angry demeanor and how uncooperative he was with the cops when they arrived. The notes indicated they had preliminarily charged him with evading arrest and assault on a government official. In the end he just got the one battery charge and little count for simple possession. He was lucky, in a way. If he had been as uncooperative as I suspected was the case, he would normally have been buried under every charge they could think of.
But, although he had been lucky, he was still in trouble. With that detailed police report the prosecutor and the judge were going to try and gobble him up. His best bet was a guilty plea if I could work out a deal for limited jail time with the DA. That was his only hope today. If I could get his case rescheduled there was a chance I could come up with something else, but even that might not work.
It was time to break the news to Darryl.
I called him over and escorted him in to one of the private conference rooms. I told him I was going to try to get his case rescheduled so I could have some time to work out a deal.
Darryl responded immediately. He didn't like the news.
DARRYL: Man I want dis shit ova wit today! This is the THIRD day I done wasted sittin up here with these cops and judges, in they house!
ME: Look, I'm sorry, but delay is the best way for me to get you the best deal. I just got your case today and I haven't really had time to talk to the officer or do any research on your options.
DARRYL: I don't want a fuckin deal! I want this shit done!
He spit those words at me.
ME: I really think it's in your best interest to put this off. If we go forward today we will be flying blind.
DARRYL: You da one blind, muthafucka.
He wasn't a happy camper. I could tell he was about to get really mad. His face puffed up and he started flexing.
But, again, I saw him physically ease up. In a matter of seconds. Like reality was settling in on him. I thought he might be about to see reason.
But this dude has a short trigger. I could see it. I remembered Tyson's warning.
DARRYL: Look, if ya can get this shit down to a month I can do da few weeks just to get this shit ova.
The news still wasn't good.
ME: I don't think you're looking at a month. With your priors the judge isn't going to be inclined to go easy. And the police report has so much detail it's clear the officer isn't going to do you any favors either.
He didn't flinch.
DARRYL: So what, two or three months? Damn...
ME: The guidelines call for 20-24 months if you plead guilty.
He looked like I had slapped him. That was a sexy look, I thought to myself. His face crinkled up and he shook his head. This dude was hot.
I continued...
ME: But I might be able to work something out to get that down to 18. You'd be out in a year, maybe less depending.
DARRYL: Nah, couple of months I can do. But I ain't pullin' a fuckin year for shit.
ME: Well, again, we won't know what's really possible yet. If I had some time I could dig deep and see what our options are.
DARRYL: Nah, look... Ya gotta close this shit out today. Find a fuckin way to get me out in a couple months and find it TODAY.
He emphasized that last word. He was looking for closure today. He was asking for the impossible. A miracle.
It wasn't gonna happen.
ME: Look, I'm sorry, Darryl. If we go forward today I can promise you it won't be for a couple of months. That's just not possible.
His look shifted from puzzled, to curious and then to a wicked stare.
DARRYL: Mah boy told me ya get me off.
ME: I will get you the very best deal possible. But I can't work miracles. I'm just being honest with you. I wouldn't bullshit you about business.
DARRYL: No bullshit, huh?
ME: No bullshit.
DARRYL: Mah boy also told me ya could work miracles.
ME: I'm good, and I appreciate the compliment. But you're facing a serious charge and there's only going to be so much we can do. Especially if you want this over today...
DARRYL: He told me a lot a shit about you.
That wicked stare turned in to a wicked grin. He was a cute motherfucker! Dimples and all. But "a lot" of shit? What the hell did that mean.
ME: What kind of shit?
DARRYL: It's all good man. It's good shit.
There's no way to describe his expression other than wicked. His voice was softer now. He was trying to convince me.
ME: Well, good. So what do you want to do?
I wasn't going to play this game. I wasn't going to be baited.
DARRYL: Said ya might need some... persuasion.
He left that last word hang in the air. I was confused.
ME: Persuasion?
DARRYL: A reason to help a brotha out.
ME: I am helping you, Darryl. Trying to help you...
DARRYL: Ya sure there ain't no way to get what I want done today?
ME: Yes.
He sat there. I could tell he was thinking it over. I'd seen that look so many times before.
DARRYL: What happen if mah case don't get done before lunch?
ME: It would carry over to the afternoon calendar. Court resumes at 2 o'clock.
DARRYL: Then you and me goin' ta lunch.
ME: Lunch?
DARRYL: Lunch.
ME: Uh...
DARRYL: Lunch. Imma plead my case. Make ya see MY side.
ME: Look, ok. I already see your side. I'm on your side, Darryl. But we can go to lunch if you want to talk about your case.
DARRYL: Word. Get mah shit moved and meet me outside.
ME: OK, it will take a minute but I'll be outside as soon as I can.
DARRYL: Shit, it ain't like my ass is goin' nowhere.
He walked out.
So now what? Putting this off a couple of hours wasn't going to make the problem go away. The deal at 2:00 wasn't going to be any better than the deal at 11:30. But it won't hurt. Maybe I will learn something about his case over lunch that will give me an edge in negotiations, or trial, if it comes to that. Information never hurts.
I got him calendared for the afternoon and met him outside.
DARRYL: Follow me. Know a spot nearby. Lunch is on me.
If I had seen his face as we walked away I would have seen that wicked grin. Instead I hungrily wondered what kind of meal he had in mind. I was hungry.