Brad Meltzer - The Tenth Justice

“Wow, a compliment from the Job Guru himself.”

“I’m serious,” Ben said. “No matter how it happened, we all know you deserve that promotion.”

“I don’t know,” Ober said. “I mean, I’m still not a Supreme Court clerk.”

“You don’t have to be a clerk,” Ben said. “All you have to do is be yourself.”

“And always let your conscience be your guide!” Eric and Nathan sang.

A half hour later, Ober was tapped on the shoulder by a beautiful brown-haired woman, dressed in a jet-black designer pantsuit. “Do you mind if we join you?” she asked.

“Lila!” Ober shouted. “What are you doing here?” After getting up to hug the stranger, he looked at his roommates and explained, “This is Lila Jospin. We used to fool around in college.”

“That’s a wonderful introduction,” Ben said. Shaking Lila’s hand, he said, “You are obviously a woman of fine taste. Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Lila said.

“Looks like you brought some friends. How many are you?” Ober asked as he began to pull together tables to make more room.

“There are four of us,” Lila said as her three friends approached the table.

“Perfect,” Ober said. “Absolutely perfect.”

At seven-thirty Tuesday morning, Ben entered the office. “You’re late,” Lisa said as he collapsed on the sofa.

“I’m tired,” he said.

“Where were you last night? Drowning your sorrows in beer?”

“Last night, I’ll have you know, there were no sorrows to be found. Last night was full of joy.”

“So you went out to a bar, found a woman, and took her home. Big deal. Who do you think you are, William the Conqueror?”

“Actually, I picture myself more as Magellan. He was so much more regal and imposing-a true visionary. Like myself, he was a Renaissance man living in a world that rarely understood him.”

“Actually, he was a misogynist barbarian who barely understood what he had found. In that sense, you are alike.” Leaning back in her chair, Lisa put her hands behind her head. “So, aren’t you going to ask me how my date went last night?”

“You had a date?” Ben asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s so surprising about that? I’m a strong woman with needs of her own.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going on a date?”

“Because you’d tease me about it.”

“I’m still going to tease you about it. Now tell me, who was the poor victim?”

“His name is Jonathan Kord. He works in Senator Greiff’s office.”

“Oh my God! Jonathan Kord? I know that guy! A friend of mine, may she rest in peace, went out with him.”

“You don’t know him,” Lisa said, grabbing a handful of paper clips and throwing them at Ben.

“I don’t need to. With a name like Jonathan, I can tell he’s stale.”

“What are you talking about? Jonathan’s a great name. His friends all call him Jon.”

“But he goes by Jonathan, doesn’t he?” Lisa was silent. “I knew it!” Ben shouted. “He’s stale.”

“He didn’t taste stale,” Lisa shot back.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ben said, sitting up straight on the sofa. “Did you really get some play last night?”

“I might’ve,” Lisa teased. “But even if I didn’t, I get to know that you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Then why does your face match the sofa?”

“Trust me, I’m not jealous. Now tell me what happened.”

“It wasn’t much. We went to dinner and then we walked around the Washington Monument.”

“Oh, please,” Ben said, throwing his hands in the air. “This guy played you like a fiddle. He buys you dinner and then takes you to walk around a giant erection? What kind of message does that send?”

“I paid for dinner, stud-boy. And it was my idea to go to the Monument.”

“Now that’s a date,” Ben said, nodding his head. “I’m impressed.” He crossed his arms and said, “Go on.”

“And then I dropped him off.”

“That’s it?” Ben asked suspiciously. “You took him out and dropped him off?”

“I don’t know,” Lisa said, her eyes focused on her feet. “I think I scared him off. I might’ve been too aggressive.”

“You? Aggressive?”

“No, I was definitely too aggressive,” Lisa said, suddenly serious. “I think he was really intimidated when I told him that I could teach him a thing or two in bed.”

“You said that?” Ben blurted.

“See, I knew I was too aggressive.”

“Lisa, don’t beat yourself up. You were just being yourself. You can’t be faulted for that. You’re an aggressive woman, and most men are intimidated by aggressive women. You’ve seen the talk shows-the average guy in America wants a complacent, weaker woman, simply because they’ve been taught to feel threatened by strong women.”

“Okay, Freud. Now where does that leave me?”

“You’re left with much less to choose from, but the quality of those men is three hundred percent better than the average loser. The gene pool you’re fishing from is more confident, more sophisticated, more intelligent…”

“They’re men like yourself,” Lisa said sarcastically.

“Exactly. We’re a new breed of men. We’re not afraid to let our feelings show. We like strong women. Sexually, we enjoy being dominated.”

“You’re not afraid to cry at the end of the Rocky movies,” Lisa added.

“Correct. And we like the smell of potpourri.”

“Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but what if I don’t want the sensitive type? What if I want a big, dumb jock who’ll be fun to fool around with, and who won’t care if I don’t call him?”

“You like big jocks?”

“For a few thrills, sure. I’d never marry one, but they’re fun to hook up with.”

Confused, Ben scratched his forehead. “How can you like big jocks? How can you go to bed with someone who just thinks of you as a sexual conquest?”

“Let me tell you something, the sexual conquest is a two-way street, and I’m driving a Ferrari.”

Laughing, Ben said, “I take back what I said before. You’re way too aggressive to find a man. You’ll probably be lonely for the rest of your life.” Getting up from the sofa, Ben flipped through the newest pile of paper on his desk. “What’s happening today?”

“A whole new batch of cert petitions just came in. Hollis wants us to really tear through them since he expects we’ll write the opinion for the Grinnell decision.”

“They didn’t vote on that already, did they?”

“Take a look at your watch, moron,” Lisa said. “Conference isn’t until tomorrow. Hollis doesn’t think they’ll even get to it, but it’ll definitely be done by next week. Osterman’s been stalling. And Justice Veidt’s clerks said Veidt’s on the fence, so Osterman has been working on him since the cert petition came in.

“What’s wrong with Veidt? Do you think he has a thing for Osterman?”

“I doubt it,” Lisa said. “Veidt’s an intellectually unimpressive justice who knows he was selected because he was confirmable. I think he figures that by hanging with the chief justice, it’ll give him some credibility.”

“That could be,” Ben said, “but my way’s much cooler. Can you imagine? Two Supreme Court justices caught in a sordid love affair? How great would that be?”

“It’d sure be more interesting than reading cert petitions all day.”

After a quick lunch in the Court’s cafeteria, Ben walked down to Mailboxes & Things on Constitution Avenue. Time to break out the overcoat, he thought as a chilly November wind pulled the last leaves from the trees. Fighting off the impending arrival of winter, Ben blew warm air into his cupped hands. Within ten minutes, he arrived at the store, which was painted red, white, and blue-the color scheme of choice for so many D.C. vendors.