The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [13]
Returning to the computer, Ben smiled. “Deal.”
“Hurry!” Lisa yelled at five-fifty A.M. Racing out the door with the newly printed, thirty-two-page recommendation, Ben headed straight for the fax machine in Hollis’s private office. Twenty minutes later, he returned. “Can we be more tired?” he asked, smoothing back his now greasy hair from his forehead.
“I assume the fax went through okay?” Lisa asked. The bags under her eyes highlighted her own exhaustion.
Ben nodded and sat down next to her on the sofa.
Squinting up at her co-clerk, she said, “You really have a wussy beard.”
“I do not,” he said, running his hand across his light stubble.
“You do too. It’s not a character flaw. It just means you’re not a real man.”
“You wish you knew how much of a man I am,” Ben said, smiling.
An awkward silence filled the room. “You just flirted with me,” Lisa said.
“What are you talking about?” Ben laughed.
“You did. You just flirted.”
“I did not.”
“Then what was that ‘You wish you knew how much of a man I am’? You might as well have said, ‘Check out my meat.’”
“That was it. You got me,” Ben said sarcastically. “Hey, Lisa, let’s end these games. Check out my meat.”
“You wish I would,” Lisa said with a smirk.
Ben pointed at Lisa. “Don’t pull that with me, woman! That was you flirting with me. You just did it back!”
“You’re crazy,” Lisa said, laughing. “Listen, let’s just forget this. We’re not hooking up. We’re both tired, and I’m in no mood to let mental exhaustion make me do something I’ll regret.”
“Exactly.” Ben tilted his head back. “Though I promise you no one has ever regretted it.”
“Lisa, wake up!” Ben said, shaking her awake.
“Wha?” she said as she sat up on the red sofa. “What time is it?”
“It’s seven-thirty. I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about this defendant. What if Hollis denies the stay because we did a crappy job? That means we killed him.”
“We didn’t kill anyone. We did the best we could and we made a sound recommendation.”
“You think so?”
“Definitely. We did what we thought—”
The phone rang.
Ben jumped for it. “Hello? Hi, Justice Hollis. Did you get the fax okay?” Ben fell silent and Lisa slapped his arm, trying to elicit a reaction. “No, we understand,” Ben said. “Yes, we know the process. Okay. I guess we’ll see you in a month or so. Have a good day.” Hanging up, Ben paused, looking at Lisa with a blank stare. “That’s five votes! We got stayed!” he screamed.
They embraced and jumped around the office, chanting, “We got stayed! We got stayed!”
“I can’t believe it!” Lisa said. “What else did he say?”
“He said he enjoyed our memo. He said the argument was persuasive, our analysis was sound. He said we used the word ‘moreover’ too much, but he thought we were right on point. He’s already called the governor’s office in Missouri. We just have to make all the preparations to hear the case.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“And y’know what the best part was? Hollis actually said, and I quote, ‘These trial courts are a fuckin’ pain in the keister.’”
“Hollis said ‘fuckin’?”
“Right to me,” Ben said with a wide smile. “This is a great fuckin’ day.”
Chapter 3
STANDING IN FRONT OF ARMAND’S PIZZERIA, BEN enjoyed the cool late October breeze. As summer officially ended, so did Washington’s unbearable humidity. Without his jacket, and with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Ben relished the quiet that blanketed the area. Already forgetting the green of summer, he stared at the brown and orange hue that decorated the trees along Massachusetts Avenue. Relaxed, he waited for his lunch companion. After a few minutes, he felt a tap on the shoulder. “Ben?”
“Rick?” Ben asked, recognizing the voice of Justice Hollis’s former clerk. Rick wore an olive-green suit and a paisley tie. His most noticeable features were his eyes, puffy and slightly bloodshot. With thin, blond hair that was combed to perfection, Rick was tall and rangy and older-looking than Ben had anticipated. “It’s nice to finally have a face to put with your voice,” Ben said as they