The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [176]
“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