The Tenth Justice - Brad Meltzer [97]
“Most of them,” Ben said as he took off his coat. “We’re still missing Harvard’s and Michigan’s.”
“I saw Blake’s anniversary party on the news. Were you there for it?”
“No, I missed it,” Ben said. “I was too busy getting reamed by Lisa. She was pissed because she finally realized I wasn’t telling her about Rick anymore.”
“How could she realize that?”
“Because she’s smart,” Ben said. “Unlike those grunts at the State Department, I work with brilliant, deductive people. When she saw the yearbooks, she realized things were going on without her, and she got a tad irate with me.”
“So you told her about the yearbooks?”
“I had to. I thought it was the only way to show her I trusted her.”
“And that didn’t work?”
“Are you kidding? Now she has concrete proof I was hiding stuff.”
“And so now the one person we don’t trust not only knows about our newest plan but is also intensely mad at you?”
“That sums it up,” Ben said. “Not a bad day at work, huh? Tomorrow, I think I’m going to smash a few mirrors to see if things can possibly get worse.”
Ober walked through the door. “I have the single best idea for a new restaurant!” he announced. “Better than Tequila Mockingbird!”
“Looks like you don’t have to wait until tomorrow,” Nathan said.
“Here’s the idea,” he said, throwing his jacket on the dining room table. “It’ll be the world’s first non-Jewish delicatessen.” As his arms flailed through the air, he explained, “There are way too many Jewish delis, and they all serve the same thing. But there are millions of people who don’t want the typical pastrami and roast beef on rye. So I’m going to open ‘Christ, That’s a Good Sandwich,’ the world’s first non-Jewish deli. Every sandwich will be served on white bread, and everything comes with your choice of mayo or cheese. It’ll be a gold mine!” Rubbing his hands together, he said, “If you guys want, you can be initial investors.”
“Maybe you can get a cooperative crossover deal with Wonder Bread,” Nathan said.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Ober agreed. Noticing the sullen expression on Ben’s face, he asked, “What’s wrong with you?”
“Lisa found out that we were planning against Rick without her, and now she thinks we don’t trust her.”
“She’s right,” Ober said. “We don’t.”
“She also won’t speak to Ben anymore. She hates him and wishes he’d disappear.”
“Awwww, don’t let that get you down.” Ober sat next to Ben. “Lots of women hate me. It’s not that bad.”
“Why are you in such a good mood?” Ben asked, staring at his roommate. “I haven’t seen you this manic since you ate that whole bottle of Flintstone vitamins.”
“I’m just happy,” Ober said, putting his arm around Ben. “I have good friends, a good home, a good job—” Ober noticed the boxes that covered the small couch. “Are those the yearbooks?”
“Those’re them,” Nathan said. “The proverbial straws that broke Lisa’s back.”
“I really wouldn’t worry about her.” Ober turned back to Ben. “You guys are good friends. You’ll make up soon.”
“It’ll be fine,” Nathan agreed. “I mean, look at you and Eric. You guys are making improvements by leaps and bounds.”
An hour later, a large tomato and garlic pizza was delivered to the house. After everyone had grabbed a slice, the roommates turned their attention to the yearbooks scattered around the living room.
Dressed in gray sweatpants and a black-striped T-shirt, Ober sat with his feet up on the sofa. “I don’t even understand why we have to do this,” he moaned, staring at an old Stanford Law School yearbook. “I have no idea what Rick looks like. I’ve never seen him before.”
“Just keep flipping,” Ben said. “I told you what he looks like. He has a really thin head and permanent bags under his eyes.”
“That’s half the people in here,” Ober complained. “No offense, but lawyers aren’t the physical gems of society.”
“You’re looking because I need your help,” Ben said. “If you see someone that fits the description, highlight their name.