The First Counsel

* * *

Slinking to the back of Simon's crowded office, I see that everyone's in their usual places: Simon's at the head of the table, Lamb's in his favorite wingback, Julian's as close to the front as possible, and Pam's . . . hold it right there. Pam's got a seat on the couch. When we make eye contact, I expect her to shrug or wink--some way to acknowledge the ridiculousness of the power shift. She doesn't. She just sits back. At least someone's moving up in the world.

From the sound of things, we're still going around the room. Julian's up.

". . . and they still won't budge on punitive damages. You know how stubborn Terrill's people are--neck-high in their own bullshit and still refusing to smell it. I say we throw it to the press and leak the contents of the deal. Good or bad, it'll at least force a decision."

"I have a conference call with Terrill this afternoon. Let's see where we get then," Simon suggests. "Now tell me what Justice said about the roving wiretaps."

"They're still standing strong on it--they want to be the heroes in Hartson's crime platform." As he continues to explain, Julian glances my way with the most subtle of smirks. That cocky bastard. That's my issue.