The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [126]
“But that didn’t mean you had to tell her everything.”
“Yes, it did,” Ben said. “Otherwise, she wouldn’t have stopped talking about how Rick bet on the wrong decision, which was something I didn’t want anyone saying out loud.”
“Fine. Thank you,” Nathan said, heading for the stairs. “That’s all I wanted to know.”
“Wait,” Ben said, turning back toward the living room. “Where are you going?”
Nathan didn’t answer.
When Nathan was out of sight, Ben looked at Ober. “What did he want me to say?”
“Oh, c’mon,” Ober said. “You’re a grown-up. You know what you did. Did you really expect to hug and make up?”
“Yeah, but please, the silent treatment?”
“It’ll only last a while,” Ober said. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll come around eventually. I mean, he’s still your friend.”
“But that’s such an immature way to—”
“Look at it this way,” Ober said. “At least he’s not asking you to move out and find a new roommate.”
“Ho-ho. That’s very funny,” Ben said sarcastically. “I just hope he comes around in time for New Year’s.”
“Why? Are you actually going to have some time off to enjoy it?”
“Well, we still have piles of cert petitions to go through, but the justices are gone for the next few weeks. We’re basically closed down until the second week of January.”
“Do you still have to go to work every day?”
“Are you kidding? Justice never sleeps. It doesn’t even nap. And if it does doze off, you can bet it never hits the snooze bar.”
“I get the idea,” Ober said, getting up from his seat. “Just tell me when you’re going to be off, so I can figure out where to make plans.”
“I’ll probably take off on Christmas Day and New Year’s Day, but that’s it.”
“Then I guess we’ll make plans around here,” Ober said as he walked to the kitchen to make dinner.
“I don’t care where we celebrate,” Ben said, following Ober to the kitchen. “All I want is for next year to be less stressful than this one.”
Striking a match, Ober turned on the gas and lit the stove. “Don’t count on it.”
Chapter 16
TWO WEEKS LATER, AT SEVEN-THIRTY IN THE morning, Ben read through the newspaper at his desk. Wearing jeans and an old wool crewneck, he was thrilled that the absence of the justices also meant casual dress for all Court staff. Reaching the op-ed page, he leaned forward and pored over the opinions of Washington’s top columnists. He looked up when Lisa entered the office.
“Happy New Year,” she said. Lisa had spent the previous week in California, celebrating Christmas and New Year’s with her family. Although she was wearing a stark black sweater and faded jeans, the first thing Ben noticed about his co-clerk was her deep brown tan.
“You look great,” Ben said, kissing her on the cheek.
“Thank you. You look pale.” She opened her briefcase and dumped a six-inch pile of paper on her desk.
“You got through all of those?” Ben asked, amazed.
“What can I say? I’m that good.” As she started to organize the pile of papers, Lisa noticed a memorandum on the corner of her desk. “What’s this about?”
“Clerk lunches,” Ben explained. “Since we’re halfway done with our term, they’re starting to organize private lunches with the justices so we can get to know them better.”
“That’s really nice,” Lisa said.
“It should definitely be interesting,” Ben said. “Besides Hollis, I don’t think I’ve said two words to any of them.”
“So we get to rub elbows and the Court picks up the tab? What a deal.” Leaning on the back of her chair, Lisa stared at Ben. “Speaking of deals, I can’t stop thinking about this whole Grinnell thing.”
“What can I say? It was a great plan.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Lisa said coldly. “It was completely stupid. The more I think about it, the more I realize it was the dumbest thing you could’ve done.”
Ben sat up straight in his chair. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Lisa said, shuffling papers. “I just think the plan was stupid.”
“How was it stupid?” Ben asked, annoyed.
“It was stupid because all you did was piss off Rick. When everything was said and done, the plan accomplished nothing else.”
“It did more than that.”
“Really?