The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [147]
“I just want it to be like it was when we first got here,” Ober said, his face buried in Ben’s shoulder. “Just the four of us. No fighting. No arguing.”
“It will be,” Ben said. “I promise.”
“It won’t,” Ober said. “It never will again. It’s over. We’re finished.”
“No, we’re not,” Ben said. “We’re all still friends. We’ll get through it.”
“No, we won’t!” Ober sobbed. “Nathan and you barely speak. Eric and Nathan never speak. I’m having the worst day of my life, and both of them are too damn busy with work to even come home to see me. That’s not a friendship. It’s a joke.”
“We’re not finished,” Ben insisted. “Rick won’t—”
“It doesn’t matter what Rick does anymore,” Ober wailed. “The damage is done. Nathan will never forgive you for getting me fired. And as long as Nathan is mad at you, Eric will be mad at him. You can’t change that.”
Silent as he stared at Ober, Ben knew his friend was right. “What about you?” he finally asked. “Will you forgive me?”
Ober wiped his eyes. “I don’t know.”
“But—”
“Please don’t say anything,” Ober interrupted. “I don’t want to hear it right now.”
Before Ben could respond, the phone rang. Ben glanced at it, then looked back at Ober.
“Pick it up,” Ober said. “You know you want to get it.”
“It’s not that,” Ben said. “It’s just—”
“Pick it up,” Ober insisted.
Ben grabbed the receiver. “Hello.”
“So, you still interested in Wayne and Portnoy?” Alcott asked enthusiastically.
“Adrian?” Ben asked, annoyed.
“Of course,” Alcott answered. “You had said to give you a call so we could set up a lunch, so I figured—”
“Adrian, why are you calling me at home?” Ben asked, rising from the couch. His movement sent the base of the phone crashing to the floor.
“I apologize,” Alcott said. “The secretary at the Court said you were gone for the weekend, and I wanted to set up something for Monday.”
“Let me tell you something,” Ben said, gripping the receiver. “Don’t call me at home. If I’m not at work, I don’t want to be bothered by you. In fact, even when I’m at work, I don’t want to be bothered. I know all about the firm, and an extra lunch isn’t going to get me to go there.”
“I’m—” Alcott stuttered.
“I don’t want to hear it,” Ben interrupted. “If I want to go to lunch, you’ll hear from me. Otherwise, leave me alone. I’m busy.” Without waiting for Alcott’s response, Ben slammed down the phone.
“Who was that?” Ober asked.
“No one,” Ben explained. “It was a—” The phone rang again. Ben picked it up. “Adrian, I’m sure you’re sorry, but I don’t want to hear it right now.”
“This isn’t Adrian, and I’m certainly not sorry.”
“Rick?” Ben asked, knowing the answer to his question.
“Sounds like you’re having quite a night,” Rick said. “Ober gets fired; he’s on the verge of a breakdown; you scream at the one person still recruiting you. I have to be honest; if I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t yell at someone who was offering me a job.”
Ben turned to Ober. “Rick’s been listening all night. The whole place is bugged.” He turned back to the phone. “What do you want, Rick?”
“You know what I want,” Rick said. “The only question is whether you’re going to deliver.”
Ben sat down on the couch. “What do you think?”
“I think Ober’s breaking your heart. So my guess is you’re thinking of turning yourself in,” Rick said. “I just want you to know that if you give me the decision, you can still walk away from all this.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Ben said. “I’ll take it under advisement.”
“If the decision works out, you’ll never hear from me again. Case closed. You get to keep your job. Nathan gets to keep his. I get what I want. All parties are happy.” Without giving Ben a chance to respond, Rick continued, “If you’re interested, go to the Museum of American History at noon on Sunday. There’s a courtesy phone next to the information desk. Wait there, and I’ll leave a message where you can meet me. If you’re not there, your bankbook and Nathan’s letter will be hand-delivered to your respective superiors.”
“I’ll see you there,” Ben said coldly. Without