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The Mentor

Page 10

by Rebecca Forster

“Isn’t it just a little arrogant to think that World War III depends on the outcome of this trial?”

  “Nope.” Edie shook back her black hair. “Oklahoma City, Atlanta, Ruby Ridge and a zillion other isolated incidents have made this an aggregate trial. If we don’t keep stopping them here, then they’ll get bolder and more people will die.”

  “I understand that. We’re doing what we can, but it’s not a personal fight, Edie,” Lauren objected.

  “Oh, it definitely is personal. Whatever happens here is going to affect your career a lot more than it does mine. You’ll be blamed for letting the Stewarts get away with murder, and you’ll never be anything more than what you are now. Caufeld will be seen as making the tough calls, which is perfect for someone who might sit on the Supreme Court. Abram will be blamed for making a personnel mistake and I’ll come out smelling like a rose because, ultimately, the matter was out of my hands. On the other hand, if we win, we’ll all be fine.”

  “This isn’t a publicity campaign. The issues are bigger, Edie. The issues are constitutional, legal, moral.”

  Edie shook her head and laughed. It wasn’t a rude sound, just incredulous. “You are such a Girl Scout, Lauren. The issues and the laws change every day because men change and manipulate them. Don’t count on any of it if you want to be a player, take those calculated risks and anticipate what the next revision will be.” Edie picked up her briefcase. The hall was empty now. “But hey, Abram put you out front, not me. Do what you can live with. Just remember, the only way to get what you want is to go after it.”

  She and Lauren looked at one another. Women in the U.S. Attorney’s office had no need to band together for respect or power. It was conferred when you filled out your W-2. In an office overrun with cases, few women had time for such posturing. For a moment, though, there had been something more there than mere professional concern. Edie had offered Lauren hard earned wisdom. This might be the only time she would do so.

  “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

  Edie nodded and walked away, giving a curt wave to the receptionist behind the bulletproof glass as she buzzed in. Two assistants came out, managing some deferential murmurings as they passed Edie.

  “Lauren.” Brendan flashed his Irish grin. She’d found that grin more than charming when she was new to the office. Unfortunately, he seemed to be committed to pickup basketball at the beach on off hours. Lauren was too short for one and too fair for the other, so it never went any further than drinks after work. Still, he was always good to talk to. Until now.

  “Tough break on the Stewarts,” Brendan called as he ambled toward her. “Are they really going to bail the kid?”

  Lauren pushed herself off the wall, meeting him and Michael Vane halfway. She drawled, “Good news travels fast.”

  “It could have been worse.” Michael’s long face was serious as he put in his two cents. Lauren looked at him hoping for words of wisdom. He smiled wickedly. “Caufeld could have let cameras in. Then you’d have to worry about your hair, too.”

  “Shut up, Michael.” Lauren glared. The two men’s chuckles trailed off. Brendan put his arm around her shoulders. It felt nice. She needed someone’s arm there.

  “Come on, it was a tough break. But you know Caufeld; he doesn’t shoot from the hip unless he’s sure of the shot. Maybe a couple of weeks and he’ll come to his senses.” Brendan chucked her under the chin, and she pulled back. He dropped his arm and stuffed his hand in the pockets of his pants. Okay, a shoulder to cry on wasn’t what she needed. “Listen, Reno was arguing the constitutionality of removing a passenger from a lawfully stopped vehicle. Well, the justices came back with a decision and they gave it the green light.”

  “That’s great,” Lauren muttered, not quite pouting but not in the mood to fool herself with false hopes.

  “It could be. Hey, it’s worth throwing Caufeld’s way.” Michael stuffed his hands in his pocket, too. Brendan tried to perk her up, “I’ve got some time. How’s about I check it out and get you the low down. I’ll read the whole thing—even dissenting opinions.”

  Lauren smiled wanly. “Who dissented?”

  “I don’t know, but someone had to. God, Lauren, don’t be so grateful.”

  “I’m sorry. Thanks. I appreciate it. Really, I do.”

  “Good. Now, how about lunch? We’re going to Colima for burritos. They just recovered the booths. They’re purple vinyl. That ought to cheer you up.”

  The two men stepped forward as the elevator arrived. Brendan was on one side, Michael, tall as a tree on the other, their arms outstretched to keep back the doors that insisted on trying to close. Lauren walked through taking the dark cloud over her head with her. By the time they hit the lobby, she’d changed her mind. A burrito at Colima held no allure, purple vinyl booths or not. Brendan’s banter would be tiring today. Michael, as usual, would spend the hour justifying his government employment with a litany of private firms that were in bankruptcy. All Lauren wanted was to sort out her feelings about Wilson, and get on with the business at hand, so the men went their way forgetting Lauren’s problems the moment they hit the street.

  Lauren reached into her purse, found her sunglasses, and slipped them on. Cell phone in hand, she dialed and waited to be put through. When she finally was, Lauren hardly noticed, because there, on the steps of the Federal Courthouse was that FBI agent. Warner. Eli Warner. He stood with one leg bent as he leaned back against the concrete banister that led visitors up and into the building. Their eyes locked. He pocketed his notebook. It seemed to take him a minute to place her. When he did, he grinned, lifted his hand, and waved. She took a step toward him, but he was already on his way, heading inside.

  Lauren was sorry he had to go. It would have been good to talk to him. Then again, she hardly knew him, and this was a private thing, needing to be discussed with someone who knew Judge Caufeld intimately. The impatient man hollering on the phone was a better choice. She held the phone to her ear. She’d nearly forgotten him.

  “Hi. You busy for lunch?” she asked and was surprised to find her lips dry, her eye still on the door of the Federal Courthouse as if she was expecting Eli Warner to come right back out the door. Lauren shook her head and got him out of it while she flipped the phone closed and put it back in her purse.

  Eli Warner didn’t come out the door. He was busy for lunch.

  Allan was busy for lunch, too.

  Tough for Allan.

  6

  The Sports Club of L.A. West Los Angeles. Valet Parking. Movie stars, kids in tow. Indoor rock climbing. Have your nails, laundry and car done before, during or after your workout. It was a cool place if cool places were your thing. It was a place of business if that’s how you did business. Allan Lassiter was both cool and one to do business wherever he happened to be. The club initiation fee would have eaten up half of Lauren’s salary; for Allan it was pocket change. She found him on the fake mountain, rock climbing in a climate-controlled, man-made environment that he had come to think of as natural. He was harnessed, shirtless and an all-around gorgeous spectacle as he moved from toehold to toehold.

  “I told you I was busy, Lauren,” he grunted, making her name sound like a rude noise. “Come on. Give me a break. Cameron’s due back any minute and he and I have got some serious talking to do. We’re going to do it in the steam room, so unless you’re planning on...” He heaved and lifted his muscular body up another inch. He wasn’t as young as he thought he was. She could hear the sounds of extra effort from where she stood on the floor, head tilted back, brow furrowed, chignon firmly in place at the nape of her neck. He looked down at her, passing along a compliment to hide the fact that he was pausing for a breath. “...God, you look gorgeous today.” When she didn’t say anything, he grinned and started climbing again. Lauren was tired of watching him. She paced and let her voice climb up after him.

  “This is important Allan. It’s really important. I wouldn’t have driven across town just to watch you climb up that thing.”
<
br />   “What can be that important?”

  Lauren looked up then back again just in time to keep from running into a stunning blonde whose attention was focused on Allan’s rear end.

  “Excuse me?” Lauren cocked her elbows, raised her palms towards the ceiling to give this Barbie Doll a clue. Business was going on here and it wasn’t the kind this woman would understand.

  “Lucky,” the blonde clucked, obviously deciding she was eyeing Lauren’s territory.

  Just as obvious was the thought flitting through her platinum-haired head that, given time, the hunk above would tire of the little lady so firmly planted on the ground. The blonde smiled. The light caught her lips and bounced off shell pink gloss. If she’d had one more collagen injection, Lauren was sure they’d have to call in hazardous waste and designate those lips an oil spill.

  With a sigh and a snap of her thong, she gave Allan one last, lustful look and left. Lauren watched her go. What kind of idiot put on makeup when the objective was to sweat? The same kind that thought a small piece of fabric emphasizing where-the-cheeks-meet was attractive. Lauren sniffed. Liposuction. She’d bet the blonde never lifted a weight and that she was a good five years older than she seemed. She’d also wasted too much time on her. Lauren looked up again.

  “Hey, Allan, come on. I haven’t got all day.”

  From above a laugh, a whirring sound and Allan rappelled off the mountain to land at her feet. He looked so happy, so pleased with himself. She couldn’t help but smile. Free from his harness, he grabbed a towel.

  “Look, I don’t even have ten minutes, Lauren. I really did mean it when I said I was busy. As partners go, Cameron is on the more neurotic side. He and I are due for a meeting and if we don’t have it on time, he’ll have to spend an extra hour with his therapist tomorrow to figure out why I’ve suddenly taken a dislike to him.”

  “Tell him you love him, and you’ll talk to him at the office. I know that’s a novel concept, but you’re always up for something different.”

  “Sarcasm will get you nowhere, Laurie.” Allan took his towel and wrapped it around her neck, trying to pull her closer.

  “Will you cut it out? I swear if you were my brother you couldn’t be more bothersome. What’s so important anyway that you got Cameron down here?”

  “We’ve got to figure out how we’re going to position the firm when Wilson is confirmed. I know, I know.” He stopped teasing when he saw the look on her face. The towel went around his neck. “You think I’m less than dirt for capitalizing on our relationship but believe me, Wilson won’t object. He knows the score. Anyway, Cameron has to take off for Boston tonight and this is the only time we have to talk.”

  “Geez, Allan, I never say things like that,” Lauren said as she walked beside him. “I only think it. You may be a lot premature, though. Wilson may never leave L.A.” That got his attention. Ten minutes later, they were in the health bar, two untouched Smoothies melting in front of them while Lauren filled him in.

  “I can’t believe he’s doing this. He’s crazy. He should have ruled for you immediately.”

  Allan didn’t move while he groused. Though he had cooled, his color was still high, his face still glowing with the last of the sweat-sheen. An outsider would have seen a man coming down from a physical high, focused on his companion. Lauren knew better. Allan was furious.

  “That’s an astute assessment of the situation,” Lauren said quietly.

  “Okay, then he’s selfish not crazy and he’s not thinking straight. This isn’t just about a goddamn issue of standing and he better get it through his head fast before he blows his nomination. Christ, that old man is going to be the death of me.”

  “Don’t you mean the ruin of you?” Lauren reached for the strawberry smoothie. “Come on, be honest. Weren’t you selling tickets to his swearing in?”

  Allan slid a look her way then turned sideways in his chair. He watched his fellow club members ambling out, their long, self-indulgent lunch hours at an end. It was time to go back and do what they did best: make money. He was seeing dollar signs flying out the door with them. If Wilson didn’t make it to the Supreme Court it wouldn’t exactly ruin him, but it sure wouldn’t do him any good either.

  “Lauren, look, you and I go way back. I know that we’ve never had the same professional interests, but the one thing we’ve always had in common is concern for Wilson. Neither of us has made any bones about what we owe him. Both of us have used his influence, so don’t take that sarcastic, righteous tone with me.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute. I’m not your daughter, your wife, or your latest lay,” Lauren shot back. “I’ll take whatever tone I want, because I’m not just concerned about Wilson undermining his chances for confirmation because I’ll make more money if I know a Supreme Court Justice. I think he’s wrong, and I’m worried that this is going to impact a whole lot of people. Yes, me included.”

  Allan’s hand had been raised to his cheek, his legs spread out in front of him, his back up against the wall. At first, he only moved his eyes. They slid toward her and she saw the shrewdness in them, layers of it like the intricate pattern inside a cat’s eye marble. Closer to the surface was the affection he felt for her. He dropped his hand on her folded ones, squeezed, and patted.

  “You’re right,” he sighed. “I’m sorry I jumped the gun.”

  “Fine. Thank you.” She pulled her hands back. “I apologize, too. You told me you were busy. Now that I’m here I realize it was a knee-jerk reaction to just show up. But I felt like I’d done something wrong, you know? Like I had forced him to be so cautious that he was incautious. Do you think I did that?”

  “You’re thinking too hard about something that’s Wilson’s problem. People don’t know standing from sitting. All they know is that the Caufelds of the world seem like arrogant, overpaid, intellectual snobs. They don’t care if he hatched you...”

  “Okay, I get the message. So, you think the U.S. Attorney’s going to come out looking okay. If we win, we’re saviors. If we lose then it’s because of Wilson so we get some sympathy factor. God, I hate that. I don’t want him in that position.” Lauren considered this; an opinion diametrically opposed to Edie’s.

  “Neither do I,” Allan muttered. “Washington is going to be watching this real close. Given what he’s doing, I’d advise Wilson not to quit his day job.” Allan brought his fist down lightly on the table. “Stupid man. Really, really stupid call for him to make.” He looked at her and his expression was closed, his eyes dark. He was saying all the right words, but Lauren knew there was a lot going on behind the eyes. Allan was looking at this from angles she never thought of. “Sometimes Wilson can be maddeningly meticulous, but he comes through in a pinch. He’s not going to hang you out to dry.” Allan smiled. Lauren wasn’t reassured.

  “But will that be the right thing to do? I mean if he puts me into the equation will that be the right thing to do?”

  “Yeah, Lauren, it’s the right thing to do. When push comes to shove, it all boils down to who you care about! We care about him. He’ll bend over backwards for both of us. If that weren’t the case, I’d walk away from him right now.”

  “You are so selfish,” Lauren said lazily. “That’s really all you care about isn’t it? What he can do for you.”

  Allan shook his head and spoke with surprising sincerity.

  “No, I care about what we do for each other. Who is it you go to when you’re scared or nervous or want to bounce ideas around? You come to me or him. I go to him or you and Wilson has us. I don’t expect him to always help us. What I really expect is that he won’t hurt us, and right now Wilson is the only one in a position to do that.”

  “He would never do that, Allan.” Lauren pulled her bottom lip up, considering this new thought. Any hurt he’d inflicted that morning had not been intentional, only necessary.

  “Yeah, well, maybe,” Allan said and grabbed his drink.

  “He wouldn’t,” she insisted. “He would expect us to give
him reason to favor us and that’s what I have to do. God, Allan, I made this really personal and it’s not.”

  “Yes, it is. Wilson, for all his talk, can’t separate us from himself and our jobs from his. I promise. The greater good he’s always talking about is a big part of this but when it all shakes out, he’ll choose us. I speak from experience on that.”

  Allan put both hands to his face, groaned and pulled those hands down revealing a hangdog expression. He stopped before his fingers cleared his nose and opened his eyes wide at her. She laughed.

  “I can’t even imagine what Wilson went through with you, Allan.”

  “Someday, I’ll tell you,” he said, only to be distracted. “There’s Cameron. I’ve got to go and sweat through some of this stuff.” He stood up. His workout shorts, what there was of them, fit so very well. When she looked up, he was looking down, fully aware of what she was thinking. She buttoned her jacket, ready to go.

  “Thanks, Allan. I’m sorry I barged in. If I can’t get myself on track, I’ll talk to Abram. He’s probably trying to figure out why he put me on this in the first place. I did think it would be a piece of cake, you know.”

  Allan chuckled and took her in his arms. He pulled her close, loving the delicate feel of her body. All the women he’d had and it was still her he wanted and for no other reason than he couldn’t have her. “We are so alike.” He pushed her back and held her by the shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Go on back to work, listen to Edie. Believe it or not, she can be your best friend. Just do what you have to do.”

  “And Wilson will do what he has to,” she said, closing her eyes as his lips met her forehead.

  “Yeah. Sure, he will.” Allan murmured against her warm skin. His voice was low and detached. But when she looked at him it was the same old Allan who smiled. “I’ve got to run.”

  And he did, trotting right past the blonde who gave him a second, then a third look before focusing on Lauren as she tried to figure out what the attraction was. Lauren passed her on her way out, leaned over and said, “The mind is a muscle, too.”

 

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