James strode into the office, upset. He hated losing cases. He hated ignorant people.  He hated leaving everything up to the juries.  Most importantly, he hated being wrong. He paced the length of his large majestic office thinking of the advice Aubrey had given him. Advice he had ignored.  Advice that would have prevented one of the greatest upsets of his career. Losing to that smug son of a bitch William Avery.

James hated William with every fiber of his being. He was loud, arrogant, and had always accused him of being a racist.  James knew he was white. He knew he was privileged. He knew that there were things about minorities he was ignorant about and things he would never understand. He also knew he was not a racist. But that jury had disagreed. When they looked at him they saw a white guy. And that meant that they viewed him as a racist. Was he? I mean he had defended one. He’d downplayed every vile act simply because the company  didn’t technically violate the law. Did that make it right? Hell no! He was losing himself. He wasn’t sure anymore. He needed reassurance.  He picked up the phone and dialed Aubrey, the only person he knew would understand him.

Aubrey had just finished with a client when James called. James was a great litigator at a fancy civil litigation firm and Audrey worked as legal counsel for one of the many domestic violence shelters in town. She and James had bonded while competing on the Moot Court Team while they attended Duke Law School. Initially they thought they hated each other. She had written James off as a spoiled fraternity boy and he had surmised that Aubrey was a judgmental bitch. Over their time competing together they learned they had a lot in common. Competition had brought out their protectiveness and often they had to have each other's back.  Sure James was a bit of a player and yes, Aubrey could be a bit dramatic. Yet, when one was in trouble the one could always count on the other.

“Aubrey, I’m a racist jerk and it cost me my case.”

“Ugh Oh. What’s happening at Ku, Klux, Klan and Associates this week? Let me guess, the balck jurors were pissed about your client’s business practices and the white jurors were guilted into voting with them because they didn’t want to be racists. I told you grand wizard, that your game plan was horse shit.”

“Aubrey. So not funny right now.  I’m not really not in the mood for another I told you so”

“Okay. Sorry. Too soon, huh?"

“Yeah.”

“James, this is just like when you introduced me to a bearfight, remember? I was feeling shitty because I thought I had bombed our Trusts and Estates exam. You took me to this hick bar and asked the bartender to get me a bearfight.  I had never even had so much as a wine cooler before and you offered me this drink called a bearfight.”

“Yeah. I couldn’t believe you hadn’t had one drink before. You needed to live a little, even if the bartender begged you not to drink it.”

“ Yeah. I didn’t listen. Boy was I sorry five minutes later when I was sprawled spread eagle in the parking lot puking my brains out. Stupid bourbon, coke and Jägermeister.”

“Yeah. You were pitiful. It took all night to get you home.” James recalled.

“Yup. And it took weeks to get that smell out of my hair.”

“Oh yeah. You smelled like rotten cabbages. Remember? The cabbie didn’t want to let you in the car because you had puke running down your chin and your shirt.”

“Yep. All because I didn’t listen to the bartender. It sucked but learned my limits though. “

“Sure did."James agreed.

"Now I can drink a bearfight with the best of em.”

“That was a good night. “ James chuckled at the memory. “All thanks to me.”

“Yeah James. All thanks to you.”Aubrey responded sarcastically. “Feel better?”

“Yeah. I guess. I just feel like such a failure Aubrey. I’ve never handled losing well. And on top of that, there’s this race thing. I just don’t know what to do.” James said stoicly.

“Rough day, huh? “ Aubrey asked.

“The worst”. He responded.

“You want to do dinner? My treat?” Aubrey offered. 

“I don’t really want to face the public right now.”

“I can bring us some food from Szechuan Garden to your office. Then you and I can discuss this case more closely.” She offered.

“Okay. Can you bring me the Mongolian beef?”

“With egg noodles, two springrolls and an Arnold palmer?

“God Bless you.” James said. “ You know me so well.”

“Who knows you better than me?” Aubrey asked. James paused for a minute and realized Aubrey probably did know him better than anyone. He’d been more open with her than anyone else he knew. Even his fraternity brothers and lawschool friends.

“Nobody. What do I owe you?”

“Depends on how long I have to listen to you bitch and moan.”

James cracked a smile. Aubrey knew how to lift his spirits if no one else did.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Ok. See you in a few minutes.”

Literally 15 minutes later Aubrey was in his office unloading the delicious takeout. James wondered how she was able to get their food so quickly. He always went there and had the worst time getting his food in under 45 minutes. In fact, he didn’t know anyone who got their food there in under 45 mintues. But then again, Aubrey knew how to work wonders.

“Ok. So what’s the deal? James, you know you’re not a racist.”

“Do I?”

"Yes. You do."

 James didn’t answer.

 “I mean you’re not in the running for a NAACP award, but you mean well.” Aubrey leaned back in her chair before spearing a piece of mushu pork on her chopstick.

 “As well as a white guy could, right?” James said wipeing the sauce from his Mongolian beef off his chin.

“Oh come off of it James. I’m not going to throw you a pity party for losing a case. You try enough cases and that’s what’s going to happen. So you defended a racist company. It was your job. Its not like you’re golfing buddies or anything.” Aubrey reasoned.

“ But I probably golf with guys like them everyday.” James whinned.

“Okay. You're not responsible for what your clients do. But let's face it. White men have taken advantage of people since forever." Aubrey stated while chewing on her meal.

“I'm not so sure about that. Are white men really the bane of everyone's existance?”

 “ That's not what I'm saying. Don't get defensive. See James this is where your being white is a hinderance. Everything in life has been possible for you. No obstacle too much. You haven’t been put in many lose-lose situations.”

“That’s not fair Aubrey and you know it. Its not a race issue. It’s a class issue”

“Right. Let’s pretend race isn’t a factor. We know it is. Just look at how your jury responded.”

“Because they believe it’s a factor, doesn’t mean it is..”

“Right, because that company only systematically charged poor neighborhoods, right, not minority ones.”

“Right.”

“Wrong. The demographics of those poor neighborhoods are Lationo and Black with one or two whites sprinkled in for good measure. Economics. Race. Same thing.”

“So you believe I’m a racist.”

“No.”

“What do you think, then?”

Aubrey closed her eyes and counted to ten. James could be so dense sometimes. She wasn’t sure he could handle the truth.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“You’re oblivious.”

“What?”

“James how many times have you and I just gone out and hung out to restaurants?”

“Hundreds . Possibly thousands.”

“Right. And how often have people given us weird looks?”

“That’s their problem.”

“Yes. In your world it’s their problem because you can go to dinner with a white girl and have a better experience.”

“And you can’t?”

 "Maybe. But I’m black. I never get to escape it.”

“Really?” James asked unconvinced. 

“Really. Like it bothers me that they always bring us separate checks. Or waitresses hit on you with me there. Like I’m chopped liver.”

“Aubrey we’re not together. Like that, you know.”

Aubrey got up and placed her emptied Chinese food carton in the trash. She reached out and offered to take James’ before answering. “Right, but it’s the assumption that we couldn’t be. He could never like the fat black girl.”

“That’s not true.”

“James, do you remember a few nights ago when we were at Fish Fillet and Grille and the girl interrupted us to give you her number?And you sat there with a big silly grin on your face?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Oh , I see. So this is less about race and more about how you feel as a woman.”

 “What? No James…”

“No. I think that’s what it is.” James said grinning. “You want to mark me as your territory and the powers at be won’t let you.”

“Powers that be? No James you’re twisting my words…that’s not what I’m saying. I’m trying to show you…”

“That you want me.” James said smugly.