The First Counsel

* * *

"What'd he say?" Nora asks as soon as she sees me.

"Nothing." With my chin, I motion at Lamb's assistant, who can hear every word.

Nora turns to her and says, "Do you think you can--"

"Actually, I was about to get myself some coffee," the woman volunteers with that now familiar look in her eyes. You don't say no to the First Daughter. Within thirty seconds, Lamb's assistant is gone.

"So what'd he say?" Nora demands as she wipes her nose. "Is he going to help?"

"He's your godfather isn't he?" I snap.

"What's wrong with you?"

This is no time to hold back. "Did you let Vaughn into the building?"

"What? Are you out of your fucking head? What'd Larry tell you?"

"He didn't tell me anything--I saw it for myself. That brown vial in the bar . . . the rumors of Ecstasy . . . and Special K. Vaughn's dealing both, for chrissakes."

"And that makes me a customer?" she explodes under her breath. "Is that what you think? That I'm a junkie?"

"No, I--"

"I'm not garbage, Michael! Do you hear me? I'm not!"

I stepped over a line with this one. "Nora--calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down! I take this shit every day from the gossipmongers--I don't need to take it from you! I mean, if I wanted to buy, do you really think I'd bring a drug-dealing murderer in here? Do I look that stupid to you? They're after my ass too--not just yours! And even if they weren't, I don't need your name. When I bring someone inside, they don't ID my guests!"

I go to grab her hand, but she slaps me away. Her face is a rage of red. Unable to contain herself, she snaps, "Were you the one who told the FBI we were dating?"

My mouth practically falls open. "You really think I'd--"

"Answer the question!" she demands.

"How can you even think that?"

"Everyone wants something, Michael. Even a little scandal makes you famous."

"Nora . . ." Once again, I reach out for her hand, but when she tries to slap me away, I grab her by the wrist, refusing to let go.

"Get the hell off me!" she growls as she fights against me.

Holding tight, I quickly slide her hand into my own. All of her fingers are taut. Not just now . . . that's how she always is. In her world, with the stakes this high, all she can do is brace for the crash. That's all she knows. "Please, Nora--listen to me."

"I don't want t--"

"Just listen!" Stepping forward, I put my other hand on her shoulder. "I don't want to be famous."

I expect her to come back with a biting remark, but instead, she freezes. That's Nora--on and off with a flick. Before I can react, her arms wrap around me and she collapses against my chest. The embrace surprises me, but it also feels perfectly right. "I didn't do it," she whispers. "I didn't let him in."

"I never said you did. Not once."

"But you believed it, Michael. You believed them over me."

"That's not true," I insist. Grabbing her shoulders, I nudge her back and hold her at arm's length. "All I did was ask you a question--and after everything we've been through, you know I at least deserve an answer."

"So you still don't trust me?"

"If you want to prove it to me, Nora, then prove it. If not, let me know, and I'll move on with the rest of my life."

She cocks her head at the challenge. Her shoulders perk up. For once, it's not handed to her. "You're right," she says, her voice still shaky. "I'll prove it to you." She steps in close and once again takes me around. "I'm not gonna let you down."

Wrapping my arms around her, I think back to the seven calls she made to Lamb. For me. She did it for me. "That's all I ask."