Read Online The First Counsel by Brad Meltzer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Brad Meltzer
Tags: Fiction, LEGAL, Suspense, Psychological, Political, Large Type Books, Washington (D.C.), Dating (Social Customs), Political Fiction, Children of Presidents
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apart. "Michael, we'll talk about it later. Anything else?"
"Just one. On Tuesday, I got the OMB memo on the new Medicaid overhaul. Apparently, in one of their long-term-care programs, HHS wants to deny benefits to people with criminal records."
"Another reelection tough-on-crime scheme. It's amazing how creative we can be when our jobs are on the line."
I search his eyes, wondering what he means by that. Cautiously, I add, "The problem is, I think it conflicts with the President's Welfare to Work Program and his rehabilitation stance in the Crime Bill. HHS may think it's a great way to save cash, but you can't have it both ways."
Simon takes a second to think about it. The longer he's silent, the more he agrees. "Write it up," he finally says. "I think you may have someth--"
"Here you go," I interrupt as I pull a two-page memo from my briefcase. "They're about to go out with it, so I made it a priority."
"Thanks," he says as I pass the memo forward. I nod, and Simon casually turns back to the group. He's accustomed to overachievers.
When we finish going around the room, Simon moves to new business. Watching him, I'm truly amazed--through it all, he looks and sounds even calmer than when he started. "Not much to report," he begins in his always steady tone. "They want us to take another look at this thing with the census--"
My hand shoots up first.
"All yours, Michael. They want to revisit the outcome differences between counting noses one by one and doing a statistical analysis."
"Actually, there was an editorial in the--"
"I saw it," he interrupts. "That's why they're begging for facts. Nothing elaborate, but I want to give them an answer by tomorrow." Simon takes one last survey of the room. "Any questions?" Not a hand goes up. "Good. I'm available if you need me." Standing from his seat, Simon adjourns the meeting.
Immediately, half of the associates head for the door, including Pam and me. The other half stay and form a line to talk to Simon. For them, it's simply the final act in the ego play--their projects are so top secret, they can't possibly be talked about in front of the rest of us.
As I head for the door, I see Julian staking out a spot in the line. "What's the matter?" I ask him. "You don't like sharing with the rest of the class?"
"It's amazing, Garrick, you always know exactly what's going on. That's why he puts you on the big, sexy issues like the census. Oooooh, baby, that sucker's gold. Actuaries, here I come."
I pretend to laugh along with his joke. "Y'know, I've always had a theory about you, Julian. In fourth grade, when you used to have show-and-tell, you always tried to bring yourself, didn't you?"
"You think that's funny, Garrick?"
"Actually, I think it's real funny."
"Me too," Pam says. "Not hysterical, but funny."
Realizing he'll never survive a confrontation against the two of us, Julian goes nuclear. "Both of you can eat shit."
"Sharp comeback."
"Well done."
He storms around us to get back in line, and Pam and I head for the door. As we leave, I glance over my shoulder and catch Simon quickly turning away. Was he looking at us? No, don't read into it. If he knew, I'd know. I'd have to.
Avoiding the line at the elevator, we take the stairs and make our way back to the OEOB. As soon as we're alone, I see Pam's mood change. Staring straight down as we walk, she won't say a word.
"Don't beat yourself up over this," I tell her. "Gimbel didn't disclose it--you couldn't have known."
"I don't care what he told me; it's my job to know. I've got no business being here otherwise. I mean, as it is, I can barely figure out what I'm even doing anymore."
Here she goes--the yin to her own yang--toughness turned in on itself. Unlike Nora, when Pam's faced with criticism, her first reaction is to rip herself apart. It's a classic successful person's defense mechanism--and the easiest way for her to lower expectations.
"C'mon, Pam, you know you belong here."
"Not according to
"Just one. On Tuesday, I got the OMB memo on the new Medicaid overhaul. Apparently, in one of their long-term-care programs, HHS wants to deny benefits to people with criminal records."
"Another reelection tough-on-crime scheme. It's amazing how creative we can be when our jobs are on the line."
I search his eyes, wondering what he means by that. Cautiously, I add, "The problem is, I think it conflicts with the President's Welfare to Work Program and his rehabilitation stance in the Crime Bill. HHS may think it's a great way to save cash, but you can't have it both ways."
Simon takes a second to think about it. The longer he's silent, the more he agrees. "Write it up," he finally says. "I think you may have someth--"
"Here you go," I interrupt as I pull a two-page memo from my briefcase. "They're about to go out with it, so I made it a priority."
"Thanks," he says as I pass the memo forward. I nod, and Simon casually turns back to the group. He's accustomed to overachievers.
When we finish going around the room, Simon moves to new business. Watching him, I'm truly amazed--through it all, he looks and sounds even calmer than when he started. "Not much to report," he begins in his always steady tone. "They want us to take another look at this thing with the census--"
My hand shoots up first.
"All yours, Michael. They want to revisit the outcome differences between counting noses one by one and doing a statistical analysis."
"Actually, there was an editorial in the--"
"I saw it," he interrupts. "That's why they're begging for facts. Nothing elaborate, but I want to give them an answer by tomorrow." Simon takes one last survey of the room. "Any questions?" Not a hand goes up. "Good. I'm available if you need me." Standing from his seat, Simon adjourns the meeting.
Immediately, half of the associates head for the door, including Pam and me. The other half stay and form a line to talk to Simon. For them, it's simply the final act in the ego play--their projects are so top secret, they can't possibly be talked about in front of the rest of us.
As I head for the door, I see Julian staking out a spot in the line. "What's the matter?" I ask him. "You don't like sharing with the rest of the class?"
"It's amazing, Garrick, you always know exactly what's going on. That's why he puts you on the big, sexy issues like the census. Oooooh, baby, that sucker's gold. Actuaries, here I come."
I pretend to laugh along with his joke. "Y'know, I've always had a theory about you, Julian. In fourth grade, when you used to have show-and-tell, you always tried to bring yourself, didn't you?"
"You think that's funny, Garrick?"
"Actually, I think it's real funny."
"Me too," Pam says. "Not hysterical, but funny."
Realizing he'll never survive a confrontation against the two of us, Julian goes nuclear. "Both of you can eat shit."
"Sharp comeback."
"Well done."
He storms around us to get back in line, and Pam and I head for the door. As we leave, I glance over my shoulder and catch Simon quickly turning away. Was he looking at us? No, don't read into it. If he knew, I'd know. I'd have to.
Avoiding the line at the elevator, we take the stairs and make our way back to the OEOB. As soon as we're alone, I see Pam's mood change. Staring straight down as we walk, she won't say a word.
"Don't beat yourself up over this," I tell her. "Gimbel didn't disclose it--you couldn't have known."
"I don't care what he told me; it's my job to know. I've got no business being here otherwise. I mean, as it is, I can barely figure out what I'm even doing anymore."
Here she goes--the yin to her own yang--toughness turned in on itself. Unlike Nora, when Pam's faced with criticism, her first reaction is to rip herself apart. It's a classic successful person's defense mechanism--and the easiest way for her to lower expectations.
"C'mon, Pam, you know you belong here."
"Not according to
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