Lisa Scottoline - Dead Ringer

Bennie perked up. An answer, and an easy one! “The one from Harvard Law. The one you asked me to meet today?”

“Yes. He is Robert’s only son, and heir. Robert wants him to run the business, that’s why he sends him to Harvard. Julien makes his graduation this summer, in only one month. But Robert will not-” Georges’s throat caught with the thought that Bennie could have finished for him.

“Robert will be watching, I’m sure,” Bennie said with conviction. She knew her mother was watching her, right now, and she’d only gone to Penn. “I’m sure Robert was proud of him. Harvard is one of the best law schools in the country.”

“Robert is, was, so very proud of Julien. Julien graduates with degrees from the law school and the business school. He is admitted in some sort of special program, very difficult to get into, and his grades are quite good.”

“Is he here yet? I know you wanted me to meet him, and now I think I should.”

“Yes, he’s here. He arrives not long ago, his flight from Boston was delayed. He was very upset, as you can imagine. He and Robert were very close, especially since his mother’s death.” Georges wheeled around to the desk behind him and reached for the telephone. “Julien goes to get a shower, then to lie down. He’s in the guest room. I buzz him.”

“Wait,” Bennie said, having second thoughts. “Maybe we should let him rest. I can come back another time. It’s so soon-”

“No, he is wanting to meet you. He is a great fan of yours. He says we are to wake him when you arrive. He’s waiting for you.”

“All right, if you think so.” So Bennie prepared herself mentally to meet a young man who had just lost a father he loved. Oddly enough, she sort of had an inkling of what that must be like.

But that might have been the denial part.

F rench heartthrob came instantly to Bennie’s mind when they were joined in Georges’s smoky study by the young Julien St. Amien. As if his name weren’t sexy enough, Julien was tall, blade-thin, and handsome, with a dark, glossy pile of thick, wavy hair. Surprisingly, he didn’t look at all like Robert, with his wide, full lips and blue eyes so light she’d seen them only on Siberian huskies. Bennie reminded herself not to mention the Siberian husky part when she described Julien to the associates.

“It’s so cool to meet you, Bennie!” Julien said, pumping her hand with some enthusiasm. His grin was broad, his manner excited-he had evidently forgotten his sadness at the very thrill of meeting her. He finally released her hand. “I’ll never forget when you judged us at our moot-court competition.”

“Really. Thank you so much.” This kid is getting better looking by the minute. Bennie considered fixing him up with one of the associates. Men this young never appealed to her. She was a woman, not a girl. She wanted a man, not a boy. Even one with such superb judgment.

“You asked so many questions, and they were all exactly on point,” Julien continued, his accent mercifully American. “It was an honor to have you judge us, and I admire your work so much, particularly in the area of police brutality and individual liberties.”

“Well, thank you.” Bennie flushed at the flattery, but she was surprised. She remembered the argument only vaguely; the students had simulated an appellate argument over some ridiculously obscure issue of criminal law, which was typical of most moot courts she had judged. She wasn’t even the marquee name of that panel; the real draws were the chief judge of the D.C. Circuit and the CEO of a Fortune 100 conglomerate. Bennie had been making her token cameo as the Diva of Public Interest Law, which was undoubtedly part of the reason she’d been going broke.

“I’ve read everything you’ve written on the subject of civil liberties in the law reviews. I even ordered the reprints of your articles on the recent developments in excessive-force law, and the political implications. I wonder if you would take a minute to autograph them for me. They’re at school, but I’ll send them to your office.”

“I’d be happy to,” Bennie answered, amazed. She hadn’t been asked to sign her reprints since the Clinton administration, and she suspected that Republicans used them for coasters. She couldn’t believe that anybody who liked her stuff was about to become a corporate CEO himself. Maybe the world was changing?

“Thank you so much! You know, you were in the forefront of much of the excessive-force law. Did you see that the Third Circuit is following your analysis to the letter, in the case of-”

“Julien, please, enough!” Georges interrupted, good-naturedly. He waved his handkerchief from his wheelchair. “You’re embarrassing our guest. See, her face is turning quite red!”

Bennie laughed. “Georges, you be quiet! He’s making me feel like Celebrity Lawyer. Don’t stop him.” It wasn’t so much that she loved the flattery, but it was such a relief not to be sad for a minute. Small talk had many uses, and since her mother’s death Bennie had decided that true grief was like windshield wipers; intermittent, and taking over in spurts, often when you thought you were almost past it. She turned to the young man. “Please go on, handsome. Tell me in detail about how great I am.”

“Also your humor,” Julien added, laughing. “I have been to two moot courts before that one, this is my third year at school, and I never laughed at one of them. Everybody said the same thing, after. You were funny! You took on that CEO, who was such a pompous ass.”

“I was just jealous.” Bennie liked attention, but this was ridiculous. “So tell me about yourself. I’m surprised you don’t look so much like your father or uncle here. You must get your great looks from your mother’s side.”

“Perhaps,” Julien said with a modest smile. “My mother was very lovely, in pictures. Unfortunately, I don’t remember her. She died of cancer when I was three. Robert is my stepfather.”

“Oh, I see,” Bennie said, suddenly uncomfortable, without knowing why. “So Robert raised you.”

“Well, yes, as best he could, with a young baby and a company to grow. I think of him as my father. He sent me to boarding school here, to Milton, then to Harvard and Harvard Law.”

“What a wonderful education.” Bennie put it together. “And that’s why you don’t have a French accent.”

“ Mais oui, but I do,” Julien said, lapsing uncannily into a Gallic inflection. “It works so well with the girls at school.” Next to him, Georges laughed in his wheelchair, and Bennie smiled.

“Congratulations on your upcoming graduation, by the way. A joint-degree program in law and business, very impressive.”

“Yes, I can run the world now!” Julien laughed. “You know, I was so happy when you agreed to represent my father. I knew you hadn’t practiced much in the area of class actions, but I knew you’d be a wonderful lawyer for him. Did he mention to you that I asked for you?”

“He did, and thank you for that.”

“My father really liked you,” Julien said, his enthusiasm waning as he gave way to reality. “He called me after he met you, and yesterday, after court, he called and was so excited, he couldn’t stop speaking in French. He said how right I was. He said you fought like a tiger for him, and for that I thank you.” Julien actually bowed his curly head slightly, his expression darkening. His eyes creased with pain premature on such a boyish face, and he swallowed visibly. His neck was long and thin, but looked even longer in the black crew-neck sweater, with his Adam’s apple traveling up and down. “You made my father very happy. He always sided with the underdog, and it sounds like yesterday, because of you, the underdogs won.”