Chapter 12 #3
“Brave man.” Caleb gave a mock shudder. “Academia’s hella safer than Capitol Hill, that’s for damn sure,” he asserted, the words ringing hollow in his ears. Safer? With Daniela Moreau in his classroom, nothing felt safe anymore.
Brandon, ever perceptive, caught the subtle shift in Caleb’s demeanor. His gaze sharpened, a flicker of interest crossing his face. “What was that about?”
“What?”
“You winced just now.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. How’s Tamia?” Caleb asked, changing the subject to Brandon’s wife, a brilliant advertising guru who’d put her career on hold to manage the demands of political life and motherhood.
Brandon’s expression softened immediately.
“Tamia’s doing great. She’s inside feeding Tatiana; probably dozed off with her.
And last I checked, Mom was trying to sweet-talk Junior into wearing a bowtie for dinner.
Little man wasn’t having it, and I don’t blame him.
He’s three years old—he’s got plenty of time to be forced into suits and ties.
” Brandon chuckled, a deep, satisfied sound of domestic bliss.
Nothing put a brighter light in his eyes than talking about his wife and children.
“Never a dull moment, bro. Pure, beautiful chaos.”
Caleb smiled quietly. “Lucky man.”
“So this is where you wandered off to,” boomed an off-screen voice, deep and resonant.
Brandon glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, Dad. Come say hello to Caleb.” He stood and panned the phone camera to reveal Governor Bernard Chambers, a man whose presence commanded every room he entered.
He was tall and imposing with broad shoulders, smooth dark skin and shrewd dark eyes.
His salt-and-pepper hair was impeccably groomed, his suit expensively tailored.
“Caleb, my boy!” His words had the polished cadence of wealth, education and good breeding blended with deep Texas roots. “Always good to see your face, even if it’s only on a screen.”
“Governor.” Out of habit, Caleb stood a little straighter. “Good to see you too, sir.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, young man.” The governor walked closer, his gaze steady and warmly paternal. “Just spoke to your father last week, actually. He’s doing well, isn’t he? Still trying to run the world from his home command center.”
“Yes, sir,” Caleb said, chuckling.
His father and the governor were cut from the same cloth.
Both were forces of nature, men who saw life as a series of battles to be won.
They shared a mutual respect born of years in the same rarefied circles.
But while Crandall was a self-made billionaire, Bernard Chambers had been born into a blueblood dynasty.
“We’re planning on getting that golf game in next month.
” A flash of competitive fire lit the governor’s dark eyes, belying his joking tone.
“Your father’s convinced he’s finally going to beat me on the back nine.
Poor man is delusional. But he’s an old friend and one of my biggest donors, so maybe I’ll go easy on him. ”
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Caleb humorously advised. “If he finds out you gave him a mercy win, he’ll never forgive you.”
The governor laughed, nodding his head. “Excellent point. You know your father all too well.”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
The governor slid his hands into his pockets, his expression becoming more serious. “Now, Caleb, I trust you’ve marked your calendar for the fall gala? It’s a critical fundraiser, and frankly, I expect you to be there. We need the best and the brightest supporting the party, son.”
Caleb inwardly groaned at the thought of attending the political event.
The endless small talk, the plastic smiles, the posturing, the not-so-subtle maneuvering to be the center of attention.
It was a world his father thrived in, a world Brandon navigated with effortless aplomb, but one that Caleb actively avoided.
Before he could come up with a diplomatic refusal, First Lady Gwen Chambers glided into view with her usual graceful elegance. Her skin was the color of maple, her hair was perfectly coiffed, and she was dressed in a pale lavender silk sheath that spoke of quiet wealth and impeccable taste.
“Dinner will be served shortly,” she announced in cultured, refined tones laced with unmistakable authority. Spotting Caleb on Brandon’s phone screen, she wafted closer and exclaimed, “Caleb, darling, how wonderful to see you!”
He smiled warmly. “Hello, Mrs. Chambers. You’re looking lovely this evening.”
She tittered. “Thank you, my dear. Always such a charmer.” Her face filled the screen, nearly crowding out her husband and son.
“I’m so disappointed you weren’t able to join us for dinner this evening.
Brandon says you declined his invitation because you’re swamped with work, but San Antonio is just over an hour away.
You could have spent the night and driven back home first thing in the morning to be on time for class. Your presence will be greatly missed.”
“Next time,” Caleb promised.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He knew she would.
“I was just discussing you with the governor. Have you given any more thought to joining that council I mentioned to you before? The one on judicial appointments? Your legal mind, your academic pedigree, your prolific publishing history—it would lend such gravitas, Caleb. Truly, darling, your insights would be invaluable. We need fresh blood, people who aren’t afraid to make tough decisions. ”
Ah, yes, the council. Another political entanglement, another step down a path Caleb had no desire to walk.
Taking pity on him, Brandon smoothly intervened, “Come on, Mom. Why are you trying to add more to the man’s plate?
You can’t be distracting him with politics when he’s already got his hands full with classes, committees, mentoring, writing articles and bestselling books.
Besides,” Brandon teased, “he needs to focus on teaching those 1Ls the intricacies of mens rea, or the entire legal system will collapse.”
That made his mother giggle. “Well, yes, I suppose,” she conceded with a lofty sigh. “After all, where would any of us be without our illustrious law professors?”
“Exactly.” Brandon gave Caleb a sidelong wink.
The governor let out a hearty chuckle. “Fine, fine. We’ll let Professor Thorne focus on shaping the minds of future legal eagles. But Caleb, please give the matter some serious thought. We’re building something here, son. An important legacy that you should be part of.”
“Yes, sir. I appreciate the consideration.”
The first lady gave him one final, lingering smile before turning to follow her husband inside, her voice trailing behind her. “We’ll talk soon, Caleb darling. Don’t forget the gala.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be there.” Caleb exchanged wry grins with Brandon as soon as his parents were out of earshot. “Holy shit, bruh. Thanks for the save.”
Brandon cracked up. “Just doing my part to protect the innocent from the clutches of political ambition. You know how they are. Always trying to rope us into their grand schemes.” He walked over to lean back against the ornate balustrade, the last remnants of twilight painting the sky in deep purples and oranges behind him.
“But seriously, man. You okay? You seem—”
“Calebbbb!” a melodic voice rang out, full of playful delight. The phone was snatched away, and Brooke Chambers’ face filled the screen, a wide, dazzling smile on her lips.
She was six years younger than Brandon. After earning her J.D.
like the rest of the family, she’d eschewed BigLaw to become a high-powered social planner.
Her family name and connections served her well.
It didn’t hurt that she was also a knockout with flawless mahogany skin, mid-back length hair and endless curves that Caleb had long since learned to ignore for his own good.
Brandon and Beau were fiercely protective of their baby sister.
Looking at her half a second too long could land a brotha in the ER.
“Heyyy, Mr. Fine Shyt!” Brooke cooed, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned in conspiratorially.
“I just overheard my parents talking about you. Don’t let them pressure you into anything.
The only council you need to be on is the one deciding where we’re going for drinks the next time you’re in Houston. ”
Caleb laughed, the deep, genuine sound coming from his chest. “Why you always trying to get me in trouble?”
“Only the fun kind.” She winked. “You know I love a good scandal, Caleb. Keeps life interesting.”
“Oh, I bet your life is very interesting, Brooke,” he drawled teasingly. “More than I could ever handle.”
“Don’t be too sure about that, Caleb Robinson Thorne.
” She loved saying his full name, loved rolling it off her tongue.
She was only twelve when he met her. As she blossomed into a stunningly gorgeous young woman, she’d enjoyed practicing her feminine wiles on him.
But her flirting was harmless. Everyone knew her heart belonged to Brandon’s best friend Dre.
She smiled coyly at Caleb. “I know the semester just started, professor, but you could probably already use a break from all that boring law stuff. Maybe I should fly out to San Antonio and find you a nice distraction. I volunteer as tribute.”
Before Caleb could respond, Brandon swooped in with a scowl, prying the phone from his sister’s grasp. “Alright, that’s enough,” he growled. “Go inside and help Mom or something. We’re trying to have an adult conversation here.”
“Booooo!” Brooke blew a kittenish kiss at Caleb and fluttered her fingers in a wave before retreating, her laughter echoing behind her. “Call me anytime, handsome!”
Caleb chuckled as Brandon shook his head with an exasperated look on his face. “Sorry about that, bro. She’s a damn handful.”
Caleb grinned. “Always has been.”
“I know. I swear—”
“Dre’s here! Finally!” Brooke called excitedly in the background. “Time for dinner, Brandon!”
“Be there in a sec,” he called back before returning his attention to Caleb. “Hey, so what’re you doing homecoming weekend? Tamia’s going to Germany to visit her best friend, Shanell, who moved there last year.”
“Oh, yeah. Her husband’s stationed there, right? The lieutenant colonel?”
“Right, right,” said Brandon. “Tamia and the nanny are taking the kids with them, so I’ll be on my own that weekend.
I’m thinking about flying down for our homecoming game.
The Ransom boys invited me and Beau to join them in their suite, said we could bring some buddies.
” He was referring to Gunner and Maverick Ransom, twin tech billionaires who ruled Austin’s Silicon Hills.
They’d graduated with Beau and had remained good friends, donating generously to Brandon’s Senate campaign.
“It’ll be good to get away from DC for a weekend,” Brandon said. “The fellas can join us—Dre, Evander, Cornel, Justin. Should be fun. You in?”
“I’m in,” Caleb confirmed.
“Awesome.” Brandon grinned. “See you then, bro.”
“Alright. Give my best to Dre and Tamia and the kids.”
“Will do. Later, man.”
The call ended.
Caleb stood motionless, the sounds of the city—a distant siren, the hum of evening traffic—filling the sudden void.
As Daniela’s face flashed through his mind, he scowled and drained the last of his whiskey, then headed inside to track down a cigar.
It was going to be a long fucking semester.