The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [48]
“Don’t even start with me. I’m at least deciding whether to go to a firm. You’re the one who’s already decided to say yes, Ms. Faustus.”
“Damn right I’m selling out. I’ve got a Saab to think about.”
“Your soul for a car. How tainted you’ve become.”
“Trust me, you’ll be right behind me. Guar-an-teed!”
“First of all, I won’t be right behind you, because there’s no amount of money in the world that can get me to live in Los Angeles. I heard that when you enter the city, the toll booths there accept dimes, nickels, quarters, and your integrity. Second of all, even if I do go to a firm, I’ll be going for ten thousand dollars more than you will.”
“You will not,” Lisa said.
“I will too.”
“Will not.”
“Okay,” Ben said, putting his hands behind his head. “Then I guess they didn’t just promise me an extra ten grand as a bonus for being a Supreme Court clerk.”
“Are you kidding me? You get ten grand more for working here? That’s bullshit. I have to get my firm on the line. I want more money. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll convince them I’m a bleeding heart who wants to save the world.”
Laughing, Ben said, “Let me ask you a question: Can we be more disgusting at this particular moment? Wait, do we have any death penalty cases coming up this week? Maybe we can kill someone for being poor.”
“You really have the worst liberal guilt I’ve ever seen,” Lisa said. “We’re going to be wealthy. Big deal. We worked hard to get where we are.”
“I know,” Ben said, “but we had so many advantages…”
“…that other kids never had. Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Lisa said, playing an imaginary violin. “Listen, I don’t know what suburb you grew up in, but I grew up in a normal middle-class family. During bad years, we were lower middle class. I went to public school and no one cut the crusts off my Wonder Bread. How much class can my parents have—they met at Graceland, and they still tell people about it.”
“Y’know, there are two kinds of people in life,” Ben said, sitting up. “Those who cut the crust off their bread and those who—”
The ringing of Lisa’s phone cut off Ben’s sentence. “Hold on a second, I think that’s my pimp. He’s selling all of my intellectual skills to the highest bidder.” Picking up the receiver, she said, “Hello, Justice Hollis’s chambers.” After a second she grinned and mouthed the words “Washington Post.” Then she pulled out her press sheet. “I appreciate your concern on this matter, but as a clerk of the Supreme Court of the United States, I am not permitted to reveal any information to the press.” Lisa hung up the phone and sat back in her chair. “Are you happy now? I’m a suspect with you.”
“Yeah, but you were always a suspect. Your whole family is a bunch of shady thieves.”
“I resent you using the word ‘thieves.’ We prefer the word ‘scoundrels.’” Walking to the door, she continued, “I’m going to give Hollis our Oshinsky opinion. Hopefully, he’ll approve it by the end of today.”
“Good luck,” he said as Lisa left the room. Ben picked up the phone and dialed Nathan’s number.
“The Administrator’s Office,” Nathan said.
“Is that how you answer the phone? No wonder our government’s a bureaucratic mess.”
“Did you just get back from lunch with the castrating lawyers?” Nathan asked.
“You got it.”
“I knew there had to be a reason you were so excited. What did they try to buy you with this time?”
“An extra ten grand.”
“Are you serious? I was joking. Man, I’m in the wrong profession.”
“No, no. You have it much better off. Sitting around and thinking about social problems is probably the best way to solve them. And don’t forget, you beat me by a hundred points on the SAT, which, now that I think of it, is the square root of ten thousand.”
“Rot in Hades, capitalist sloth.”
“Listen, I meant to ask you, have you gotten all the stuff we need for Saturday?”
“I’m on it,” Nathan said. “Rick won’t know what to do when we’re done with him.”
“Is the plan done?”
“It’s pretty much the same as we first discussed.”
“I guess we’re set then,” Ben said. “We should probably meet tomorrow night