4. Room 112

As Mac arrived at the place of their collision, she didn't see Rod. She looked at her watch. 7:03 p.m. He did say 7:00 p.m., didn't he? She paused for a moment. Should she wait a few minutes? Should she come back? Should she just forget the whole thing as he obviously had? What had she been thinking in coming here?

Suddenly a studious-looking young man approached seemingly out of nowhere. "Are you Mac?"

"Yes."

"I'm supposed to give this to you." He handed her a single yellow rose and a card before he walked away.

She opened the card and read: Mac, You've come this far, so perhaps you'd be willing to travel a little farther. Meet me in Room 112. Where was Room 112? And was this the beginning of some type of wild goose chase? The postscript caught her attention: P.S. I know you're more familiar with this building than I am, but Room 112 is in the southeast corner of the first floor. And don't worry it's the final stop. Instantly she felt nervous.

Meanwhile Rod paced the floor of Room 112 waiting to hear from his young accomplice. Finally, his phone rang. "Yes!" he exclaimed, as he hung up the phone and turned it off. Both relieved and anxious, he sat down and forced himself to breathe deeply.

As Mac entered the room, he rose to greet her. She looked incredibly beautiful. "Hey," he said huskily.

"Hi," she answered. She took in her surroundings. This was a small study room with a table and a few chairs. However, his sheer size made the room seem even smaller. He had placed a cloth over the table along with a vase containing approximately two-dozen yellow roses with about a half dozen red roses mixed in. There was also bottled water, cans of cola, salad, a big pizza box and paper plates and utensils.

"Come sit down," Rod told her. As he pulled out her chair, he admitted, "I wasn't sure you'd come."

"I almost didn't," she said with equal frankness.

"Were you worried about upsetting your boyfriend?" he inquired with a tilt of his head as he, too, sat down.

"No. There is no boyfriend at the moment," she responded.

"Thank God," he said with a smile.

Mac felt the heat in her cheeks. He does have a great smile, she thought. "What about you?" she asked.

"I don't have a boyfriend either."

"Don't be a smart ass!"

He looked at her for a minute and then said deliberately, "Do you honestly think I would have asked you for a date if I was involved with someone else?"

"Is that was this is?" she asked in return. "A date? I thought it was an apology."

"Can't it be both?"

Now it was her turn to smile.

"Mac, I am sorry about what happened this morning."

"Don't worry about it. It was just simple physics at work: one object giving way to another–bigger–object. Besides it was only my pride, and not my backside, that really ended up bruised."

"Now you tell me," he said with a tone of mock exasperation. "I've spent the entire day worrying that here it is my first day in law school and I'm about to be sued by a really beautiful woman."

"Thank you," she responded sedately.

Rod was surprised that she seemed ill at ease with personal compliments. It didn't fit with the fire he'd earlier seen on display. But somehow it added to her allure. Taking pity on her, he asked, "What would you like to drink?"

"Water would be great."

He opened each of them a bottle of water and they filled their plates with salad and pizza. For a few minutes they ate in silence—in that shy, awkward way that is so common to a first date.

After a few minutes, he said, "I assume that Mac is a nickname?"

"Yes," she replied, "Short for Mackenzie. But everyone calls me Mac."

"I think I prefer Mackenzie." Mac may suit the law student and future attorney in her, but Mackenzie was a better fit for the woman he was finding her to be.

"What about you? Is Rod your given name or is it Rodney?"

"Roderic," he replied flatly.

"I definitely prefer Rod," she said with humor in her eyes.

"Me, too."

As they continued to eat, she thought about the day he'd probably experienced. She wondered when he had found the time to put this dinner together. He obviously had put some time and effort into it–which was not at all what she had expected either from him or the situation. All she had wanted to do after her first day was to escape into restful oblivion. She was so happy to have that first year (and the second one) behind her.

"How was your first day of law school?" she asked him.

He looked traumatized. "I'm not sure there's an appropriate word to describe it. I feel like I've entered some strange foreign country only I have no knowledge of the language and no means of translation or interpretation."

Mac nodded sympathetically.

He sighed and then continued, "I spent three hours last night reading two cases for Civil Procedure and I haven't a clue as to what I read. What's worse, class only made me more confused. And I have never in my life felt so stupid as I did upon getting called on in that class. The only positive thing I can say about the experience was at least I didn't burst into tears like one of my male classmates."

Mac chuckled. Poor Rod! She remembered that first class like it was yesterday. "They want you to feel that way," she told him.

"Jurisdiction," she went on. "Your first cases and lectures in Civil Procedure are about jurisdiction. This is the starting point because it determines whether a court has the power over the subject matter of the litigation and also over all of the relevant parties to the litigation. Subject matter jurisdiction is given to a particular court either by legislative act or by direction of a superior court. On the other hand, for a court to exercise personal jurisdiction over a party, that party must have at least minimum contacts with the forum in which the court sits or has authority."

Rod stared at her trying to assimilate what she was telling him. He wondered if he shouldn't ask her to repeat it so he could write it all down. Finally, he said with exasperation, "Why don't they just tell us that! Why make it all so complicated?"

At that thought, Mac laughed. "Because that would be too easy. Law school, my dear boy, is not primarily about learning specific facts and rules. It's mostly about learning to think, analyze, and apply facts to rules. You'll find that it's really all about the exceptions to the rules! And there are limitless exceptions!" Seeing the horror etched on his brow, she added hopefully, "Don't worry it will get easier. It just takes time–and diligent study."

"I hope so," he replied with relief. Rod grabbed one of her hands, and looking at her intently said, "I'm glad I ran into you this morning–for many reasons."

Mac met his glance and answered, "Me, too."

Suddenly she was both afraid of his words, and of her attraction to him. Seeking firmer ground, she said, "I must admit, however, that I spent most of the morning mentally cursing your name."

"Because of the collision?" he inquired.

"No. Because of what happened after the collision."

Mac saw his look of puzzlement and continued, "I was late to the Dean's class and my entrance did not go unnoticed. He stopped his lecture and sarcastically thanked me for coming to class. Then he asked me to brief the next case. As I was reciting the facts, he kept interrupting me and telling me I was wrong. Rod, how could I be wrong when I was reading him the facts straight out of the book? Finally, out of desperation–and without thinking clearly–I threw back, 'Well, I didn't write the book.' The only problem was that he was the author. After that, he spent the remainder of class trying to trip me up."

Rod noticed Mackenzie's expression but couldn't stop himself from laughing heartily at the thought of her taking on the Dean in the same feisty manner she had taken him on after their collision.

Mac glared at him. Finally, she said with bluntness, "Why does everyone seem to find this experience so funny? It was embarrassing, Rod. I looked like a complete idiot."

Rod studied her for a moment. Her distress in the situation was apparent. Finally he said, "It's funny, Mackenzie, because you had the courage to intellectually go toe to toe with the Dean. Haven't you realized yet that it wasn't you who was made out to be the fool?"

She looked at him suspiciously.

"Mac, it's the Dean who should feel humiliated. He, unlike you, didn't know the correct facts of the case–and he authored the book."

He was right. She wasn't the one who hadn't been prepared. It was the Dean! Suddenly she saw the encounter in a new light and began to laugh. Rod was happy his words seemed to have the desired effect; and he, too, began to laugh again. But even while laughing he had to fight the urge to kiss her.

Once their laughter subsided, Rod pulled out a cheesecake and began to cut a couple of slices. "I figured that salad, pizza and cheesecake were pretty safe menu choices. I hope my decision was right."

"It was. But I really should skip the cheesecake after what I've already eaten."

"Come on Mackenzie." He placed a thick slice on a plate and offered it to her. "Take pity on me. Because I won't eat any unless you do." He looked at her and then at the cheesecake. Mackenzie found his pitiful expression irresistible and gave in to the temptation.

As they ate desert, she was again struck by the time and effort he had put into their evening. This thought roused her curiosity about how the night had begun. "Rod, about tonight? Why have dinner here?"

"Because I wanted a place where we could talk. But we don't know each other and I thought you'd feel more comfortable in familiar surroundings."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

"One more question: Who was that earnest young man who met me upstairs?"

"Just an innocent freshman I found in the library who was willing to take a bribe to be my accomplice."

"Why the subterfuge?" she asked wryly.

"Because, Mackenzie, you're not the only one who hates to be made a fool." He paused momentarily before adding provocatively, "The truth is that I wanted some cover in case you chickened out."

"I never back down from a challenge," she said.

Rod smiled at the hard look of open defiance she gave him and with a wink responded, "That, kiddo, is what I was counting on."

As their eyes met, the tension between them increased. Mac suddenly realized that her usual tactics for maintaining the upper hand, were simply not going to work with Rod. The challenge implicit in this knowledge both excited and terrified her.

The terror won out momentarily and she broke eye contact. Mac's eyes fell upon the vase of roses sitting off to one side. "The roses are lovely. A very unique combination and ratio of colors."

"Thank you," Rod said. "I'm glad you like them as they're for you." He paused and again looked at her directly. Then he continued, "They're my official apology for this morning. However, I also hoped, Mackenzie, they would prove symbolic of where we stand with each other at the end of tonight: friends with the potential for something much, much greater."

Mac nodded. She didn't trust herself to speak further. His honesty–like his thoughtfulness–surprised her. Beyond that... well, she just didn't know. She liked him and she was really attracted to him. Could he really like her, too? They still did not know each other. But somehow she felt certain that tonight wasn't just dinner. And she wasn't entirely sure that she was comfortable with that prospect.

Rod watched with interest the gambit of emotions that played out on Mackenzie's face. He realized his initial instincts had been correct. But he wouldn't push her any further tonight. So he changed the subject and the two of them engaged in the small talk that was more typical of a first date.

Eventually, Mac looked at her watch and was shocked to find that it was almost midnight. "Thank you for dinner, Rod. I really enjoyed tonight, but I've got to go. I still haven't even begun to read for tomorrow's classes." Rod looked at his own watch and nodded in understanding. He, too, still had a ton of reading to finish.

Mac stood and prepared to leave. He stood, too, and picking up the vase said, "Mackenzie, your flowers."

She smiled gratefully.

Handing her the flowers, he kissed her gently on the cheek. He pulled back to see a hint of blush in her beautiful face.

Slightly embarrassed by her response, Mac quickly retreated towards the door.

He watched her momentarily before he realized that he still didn't even know her last name. "Will I see you again?" he asked with a hint of desperation.

Regaining her composure, she turned and replied coyly, "Perhaps, Mr. Calloway. As you pointed out earlier, even law students have to eat." She winked at him and took her leave.

He laughed, knowing that tonight she'd had the last word.