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trial.” Still Brian gazed at her in silence. “Don’t you want to know the details?”
    â€œMildly,” he said, and her smile widened at the curiosity in his face.
    â€œConverse sits on the board at Hollins Communications.”
    â€œWasn’t McKaye the executive they canned for a juvenile offense?” Brian asked.
    Barbara nodded. “He ripped off a baseball mitt from the five-and-dime when he was fourteen. The other kids made it out the door, but Bill got caught.”
    â€œYou got him a quarter of a million, didn’t you?”
    â€œYeah, but he had a tough time finding another job. Hollins wanted him out, and I think it was Converse who dredged the whole thing up. He made these impassioned speeches about ethics and morality, and what amazed me was he really believed his own bullshit. It was like a crusade, for God’s sake. Christ, I’d hate to be his kid.” She hesitated. “How sick is she, anyway?”
    â€œVery.”
    Barbara watched him carefully for another moment.
    â€œYou know something, Morgan? You’re a soft touch for the suffering multitudes. That’s one of the reasons I hired you, and also because you’re also a shrewd lawyer and you can turn your compassion into logic. But you want to hear my theory?”
    â€œNot particularly,” he said, knowing she’d tell him anyway.
    â€œWalter Converse’s daughter is sick and helpless, and you absolutely cannot resist her. You’re going to protect her and make her all better, except that if you did, I guarantee you that a bouncing, healthy Miss Converse would have nowhere near the same appeal.”
    Out of line, Brian thought. This was not his taste in ties she was complaining about. He felt none of the usual combative stimulation of his arguments with her, the productive contests of will that left them exhausted and smiling and proud of each other, no matter who won the point. He looked at her flushed face and tried to remember his gratitude.
    â€œYou’re wrong,” he said, carefully controlling his voice.
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    â€œIn any case, you can keep your theories to yourself.” He heard his voice quaver.
    â€œThat would be nice, I agree,” she said. She slid off the corner of the desk and began to inspect her armful of files, leafing through the papers silently, methodically, giving him ample time to absorb her displeasure.
    Oh God, he thought furiously. She’s into her Supreme Court act.
    Barbara dropped the files on his desk with a smack and faced him grimly. “You’re screwing up around here, and that is my business.”
    Brian rose now, grateful for the extra three inches of height.
    â€œLook, I’ll leave it at home, all right?”
    â€œThat will be fine,” Barbara said quietly. Brian strode toward the door. Suddenly she called out after him.
    â€œBrian … about the Converse girl … hey!”
    He didn’t turn back, and when she followed him out of his office a few moments later, his secretary stared at her curiously. Barbara glared back until the girl reddened and started typing with rhythmic enthusiasm. Barbara rapped her fingernails on the desk, a machine-gun exclamation point then marched briskly down the hallway.

Chapter 10
    Walter had Sharlie by the elbow, propelling her up the narrow stairs to the crowded dining room on the second floor. A waiter with a heavy tray balanced overhead clattered up the stairs behind them, and Walter flung out an arm, pressing Sharlie and Margaret against the wall.
    â€œLeave it to the Italians. Look at this, kitchen on one floor and dining room on the other.”
    Sharlie was silent, but Margaret looked downstairs anxiously, as if she expected a carving knife to come whizzing at them fresh from the hand of a Sicilian busboy.
    Brian had chosen Pietro’s for his debut, and Sharlie was prepared for vitriolic remarks from her father. There was