“Is he smart?”
“Academically, yeah. He’s brilliant. But he can’t operate in the real world. He wouldn’t recognize a daring thought if it got lodged in his back teeth.”
“If he’s so drab, why’d Hollis pick him?”
“I think it’s because he was so drab. After you, they couldn’t afford another dynamic personality. They needed someone safe. And allergic to cheese.”
“Well, at least he has the job,” Ben said.
“Don’t give me that. Who cares about the job?”
“I care.”
“You of all people should not care. The only reason you worked there was to be in the position you currently occupy. Every clerk wishes they were in your shoes. You’re the talk of the entire town-the center of every legal circle. Wayne and Portnoy offered you another extra ten thousand even though you told their recruiting chair to drop dead. Every damn lawyer in America wishes they had the savvy of Ben Addison. What could you possibly miss about the Court?”
“I miss working with you,” Ben said matter-of-factly.
Surprised by Ben’s comment, Lisa asked, “You really miss me?”
“Of course I miss you,” Ben replied. “I miss you. I miss Ober. I miss his lottery stories. I miss…”
Lisa raised an eyebrow. “Ben, Ober’s gone, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”
“And Nathan’s gone. And Eric’s not worth keeping.”
“I know it’s hard,” Lisa said. “But you have to focus on the future. You’re starting a job at the U.S. Attorney’s Office-filling a position that usually requires at least two years’ experience. You jumped ahead of every damn applicant and got one of the best jobs in D.C. You’re going to be a prosecutor! You’ll be going after guys like Rick full-time. Isn’t that what you told me when you accepted the job? That you were thrilled because you loved to be in the chase? Now you’ll be in the chase every day.”
“And I’m still thrilled about that,” Ben agreed. “Considering everything I went through, I could be in a lot worse shape. But I can’t help it. I miss them.”
“You still have me,” Lisa said.
“I know,” Ben said warmly. “And that’s the luckiest thing that’s happened to me.”
“I’ll tell you why you’re lucky,” Lisa said. “You’re lucky I never told anyone who really designed the ‘secret Addison plan.’”
Ben laughed. “Don’t bring that up now.”
“I’m serious,” Lisa said. “You know I was the one who thought up that entire-”
“I know,” Ben interrupted. “You came up with the plan. You were the one who said to go to the marshals. You were the one who said it was my only hope. You were the one who said we should replace the executives. You were the one who said to isolate the criminal records…”
“I was the one who said you should be proactive.”
“Absolutely,” Ben agreed. “You were the aggressive one. You had the idea. I was cocky about Grinnell, and you’re the one who wound up saving my ass.”
“Yet we had to share the credit,” Lisa said.
“Are you going to bring this up every time we get together?” Ben asked.
“Pretty much.”
“I never said I designed the plan,” Ben pleaded. “All I said was that I wrote it up for DeRosa.”
“Based on my idea.”
“Based on your idea,” Ben repeated. “I told them that. What else do you want me to say?”
“I want you to say: Lisa deserves all the credit-I’m just her meek and lowly servant.”
“Y’know, there are worse things than sharing the spotlight. I mean, it’s not like you’ve been completely ignored.”
“I have too been ignored.”
“How many job offers did you receive this week? A dozen?”
“Fourteen, actually. And The New York Times is doing a profile that runs next Sunday. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel slighted. The way I see it, you shouldn’t have opened your mouth in the first place.”
Ben grabbed a nearby pillow and whipped it at Lisa’s head. “Don’t give me that! Eric was the one who screwed up-he was the one who gave both of us credit for designing it. And when the rest of the press picked up on it-”
“You couldn’t deny it.”
“I tried to deny it,” Ben laughed. “But at that point it was too late. The King of the Court was born.”
“Don’t say those words in front of me,” Lisa warned.
“If it makes you feel better, you can call me Sovereign.”
“I should call you Court Jester.”
“Fine, call me Jester. Whatever makes you happy,” Ben said. “But if you have to know the truth, I really am sorry. And grateful.”
“I know you are. I just want you to learn your lesson.” Pleased to see Ben smiling, Lisa said, “Y’know, I like you much better when you’re happy.”
“Me, too,” Ben said. “The way I see it, though, there are two types of people in this world…”
“Don’t start,” Lisa begged.
“I’m serious. There are two types of people in this world: winners and losers.”
“Let me guess which one you are.”
“In this situation, I’m both,” Ben explained. “That’s the only way to look at it.”
Lisa paused for a moment. “That’s fair. I’ll agree with that.”
“Thank you,” Ben said.
Lisa jumped from her seat and walked toward the couch. “Now that we’ve heard your wonderful analysis, can we get out of here? You said we’d have fun tonight.”
“I don’t want to have fun,” Ben said with a smile. “I’d rather stay in.”
“So you want to have a different kind of fun?” she asked, sitting down next to him.
“No,” Ben said, pulling away. “I just want to sit here and mope. Trust me, it’ll be tons of fun.”
“Moping is not an option. Get it out of your mind.”
“Is sulking an option? Because I can just as easily sulk if I can’t mope.”
“You’re not doing either.” Slowly, Lisa moved closer to Ben on the couch.
“Then what are we going to do? Pout? Brood? Fret?”
“Let me put it to you this way,” Lisa said. “In my mind, there are two types of people in this world: those who will sleep with me, and those who won’t.”
“Relax. I’m not in the mood.”
“Don’t give me that. You said when everything calmed down-”
“It hasn’t calmed down yet,” Ben said. “Besides, who says I’d even want to sleep with you?”
“Oh, that’s funny,” Lisa said. “But that game doesn’t work anymore. I saw you crying when Rick was slapping me around. You were worried about me.”
“Those tears had nothing to do with you. They were tears of anger. They were angry, hateful tears.”
“Sure they were,” Lisa said, inching closer to Ben.
“I’m serious,” Ben said. “Anyway, I can’t do it now. I have a lot on my mind. You saw me before-I’m depressed.”
“You’re not depressed.”
“I am depressed. And it’s going to take me a long time to get over it.”
“How long?” Lisa asked.
“A very long time. A long, long time.”
“So when are we going to fool around?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe never.”
“Ben-” Lisa warned.
“Fine. You talked me into it. But I want you to know I’m not going to like it.”
“You’ll like it.”
“Fine. I’ll like it. But the moment we’re done, this relationship is over. I’ve had enough of this nonsense.”
“Whatever you say,” Lisa agreed. She kissed Ben’s neck. “You’re in control.”
Acknowledgments
I wish to thank the following people for being involved with this book and, therefore, being involved with my life: Jill Kneerim, my agent, for her faith in me as a writer. Over the past four years, she has been an editor, an advisor, a cheerleader, and a confidante. Most importantly, she has been my friend. With sagacious (and sometimes prognostic) insight and down-to-earth sensibilities, she has offered me a relationship that I deeply treasure. If she never laughed at fraternal antics, we wouldn’t be here today. Elaine Rogers, whose sales ability started the ball rolling-for that alone, I am forever in her debt; Sandy Missakian, whose sense of humor and tenacious negotiating abilities make my life much easier; Sharon Silva-Lamberson, for going beyond the call of duty and starting so much of this by enjoying it on her own (thanks, Sharon); Ike Williams and everyone else at The Palmer and Dodge Agency for all their support; Neil Stearns and everyone at the Dick Clark Film Group for their courage, commitment, and dedication. Neil, you and your crew were the first people to take a chance on me. I will never forget that.