by Tom Hogan
“What do you think?” Donna mouthed to Josh.
Josh looked at Alexis and her partner, then around the club. Then he got to his feet. Walking in measured steps, navigating the floor, he stopped in front of Alexis and her partner.
He placed his hand over the hand that was moving along Alexis’s thigh and moved it up to the small of the back. “Mind if I cut in?” He released the hand and stepped back.
“Fuck off, Jack.” The man pulled Alexis into a turn, away from Josh.
Josh stepped forward and caught the man’s wrist, twisting it slightly. “Please.”
The man let go of Alexis and twisted his free shoulder back, his fist balling. But instead of stepping back, Josh closed the distance.
“No one’s noticed so far, so just let it drop. I’m just a friend cutting in on your dance. Don’t make me hurt you.”
The man held Josh’s eye for a long, brittle moment. Then he stepped back. As Josh released his wrist, the man spat at him, a harmless spray that dissipated in mid-flight.
Alexis was frowning at him. “I can take care of myself.”
“I’m sure you can. But I thought my way would draw less of a crowd. And less blood.”
She smiled slightly. “Well, I wouldn’t have gone for his wrist, that’s for sure.” She looked around. “Well, what do we do now? Go back to the table or finish the dance?”
Josh looked over at the bar, where the man was glaring them over his drink. “We better dance, or he’ll definitely feel like we’ve shown him up.”
She smiled at his discomfort. Holding out her left hand, she said, “C’mon, I’ll lead.” She gripped his limp hand. “Relax. We’re white. We’re supposed to look awkward.”
They danced in silence, Josh moving stiffly, looking over her shoulder, assessing the situation. At times the crowded dance floor pushed their bodies together. When that happened, Josh tensed and backed off from the contact. Alexis eyed him, saying nothing.
When the dance ended, she took Josh’s hand and led him back to the table, where Donna was sitting, a small grin playing around her mouth.
“And you said you didn’t dance.”
“How much fun are you going to have with this one?”
“Oh, some. Especially back at the camp.”
“Well, see if you can get it out of your system while I go to the bathroom.”
The music stalled as the guitarist worked a broken string. Donna leaned over. “It was my idea for Josh to step in. It wasn’t that you couldn’t take care of it yourself, but Josh is very good in situations like this.”
“He’s convincing, I’ll say that. What would he have done if the guy hadn’t backed down?”
“Hard to say. Things never seem to get that far when Josh is involved.”
The band moved into its next number, forcing Alexis to lean over and raise her voice. “Is it just me or is he that awkward with other women?”
“It’s got nothing to do with you.”
“It seems like…” Alexis stopped as she saw Josh approach.
“I think it’s time to go,” he said, still standing. “Our friend’s not done with us and it looks like he’s recruiting some help.” Alexis looked over his shoulder and saw her partner talking to two men, their eyes fixed on their table.
Josh held out his hand. “Give me your keys and I’ll bring it around to the front door. Wait here two minutes—no more—then meet me out front. Don’t let anyone stop you.” Alexis reached into her coat pocket and slid the keys over. “Two minutes,” he said and left.
Alexis looked at his retreating back. “He’s overreacting a bit, don’t you think?”
Donna put a five-dollar bill on the table. “I guess we’ll find out in a moment.”
They waited for a minute, then gathered their coat and made their way around the fringe of the dance floor. The three men started over, their path hindered by the dancers.
Donna took Alexis by the arm and pulled her roughly towards the door. The men were closing the gap as Donna threw the door open and pulled Alexis out. The two women stumbled on the uneven front step and almost went down, but Alexis found her footing and steadied Donna. Behind them the door burst open as the three men burst from the club. At the same moment Josh pulled up in the Cadillac, reaching across to throw the passenger door open.
They drove the first few minutes in an adrenal-filled silence, broken only by curt instructions from Alexis. But as they moved away from the darkness and action and the highway loomed ahead, Alexis laughed softly, a low tumbling sound. “Tell you what,” she said. “No need to tip me for tonight.”
CHAPTER 23
The next day Alexis sat in the auditorium and watched Donna’s keynote address. Josh stood in the back, near the exit, a pad of paper and pen in his hand, taking notes as the speech progressed. Up on the stage Donna was dressed for the courtroom—hair up, a power blue-black suit. She moved across the stage comfortably, no notes, a wireless mike clipped to her lapel.
She started with a quick summary of her coming of age with the law, how it had drawn her in and her early impressions, both intellectual and ethical. And how she’d learned, first in the classroom, then the courtroom, how both compromise and negotiation were cornerstones of their profession. But, she explained, these two practices had, while making the legal system run more smoothly, made its practitioners lazier, intellectually and otherwise. More importantly, lawyers had lost sight of how these practices had eroded the confidence of first, their clients, and second, society writ large. It was a system where lawyers could win even when their clients lost, which meant that this corruption was reaching towards the core, with cynicism being the new lingua franca. Which is fine, she argued, as long as all parties share the cynicism. But too often what is cynical for the upper classes translates into hopelessness for clients and victims.
“Listen,” she said, stepping away from the lectern. “I didn’t come here today to lecture you. I came because you were gracious enough to invite me and I still regard myself as a proud member of the bar. I still believe that our profession is capable of leading—or at least shaming—society and government into doing the right thing. But only if we have the will, and the stomach, to fight our inclinations for immediate success at the cost of a larger truth.” She looked out into the crowd, her silence growing almost to discomfort. “I think we as a profession have lost touch with those larger truths. Perhaps many of you don’t agree with me. I respect that. But as long as I’m a member of this group, I will fight to ensure that the lofty principles on which the law is based are translated into actions that benefit those who need our help the most. And I hope that some of you here today will join me in that effort.” She looked around the auditorium once more. “Again, thank you for inviting me here and thank you for listening.”
The applause that followed was tepid at best. Donna looked over at Kevin Schreiber, who thanked her and opened it up to questions.
“Maybe not what they wanted to hear, but impressive,” Alexis said to Josh. She had left her seat during the closing and joined him in the back. He nodded.
They watched as Donna fielded question after question, most of them hostile. But she listened carefully and respectfully, acknowledging their premise or argument before responding. She also had no problem admitting at certain points that her thoughts were a work in progress and that she appreciated being challenged, that she still had work to do. When she quit the stage forty-five minutes later, the applause this time was solid.
Donna had one last obligation—participating in a lunchtime panel—before Alexis was to take them back to O’Hare for their late-afternoon flight. When the panelists seemed more determined to impress each other—or perhaps just Donna—Josh and Alexis retreated to the hotel coffee shop. When they returned to the ballroom, the panel and lunch had ended and Donna was gone. Heading back to the hotel, they found her in the suite with two men
that she introduced as her publisher and editor. The former had a multi-book proposal that he wanted to discuss with her; the latter wanted to discuss the structure of the first three chapters as well as where to take the rest of the book. Donna asked the two men if they would give her a few minutes, that she’d meet them down in the lobby. They nodded quickly and excused themselves.
“They want me to stay another two-three days. I’m not interested in what the publisher has to say—I want to see what this book does before talking about writing any more—but I like the editor and want to hear more from him. They want to fly Carol out here tonight and make it a working session. What do you say?”
“About what?”
“About sticking around for a couple more days. They’ll pick up the tab.”
“I think I’ll head back.”
“C’mon. What’s back there that can’t wait a day or two? The floor in Number Four is still going to be there on Thursday.”
“Yeah, stick around,” Alexis joined in. “Two more nights—think of the fights I can get us into.”
“I told Clark I’d be back tonight. There’s some jobs that take two of us.”
“Then let Pete…” Donna looked at Josh. “Whatever,” she said finally, waving her hand.
Josh seemed surprised at her response. “I’ll just grab a cab,” he mumbled.
“No, I’ll drive you,” Alexis said.
“I’ll just get my things. I’ll be ready in ten minutes.” He headed into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.
The two women stared at the closed door. “I’m sorry he’s leaving,” Alexis said. “I like him.”
Donna stayed staring at the door. “That’s why he’s leaving.” She looked back at Alexis. “I think he likes you, too. And he doesn’t know what to do with that.”
The Cadillac pulled into the hotel’s semi-circular registration area. Josh was out front with his bag. Alexis put the bag in the trunk and when she went around to open the door for Josh, found him seated up front. She tapped the door lightly with her fingertips and moved around to the driver’s side.
They rode the first ten minutes in silence, Josh content to gaze out the window at the shifting landscape. Finally, Alexis spoke up. “I’m sorry you’re not staying.”
“I’ve got things that need doing back home. Besides Carol’s coming—Donna’ll be fine.”
“I wasn’t talking about Donna. I’m talking about you. I meet a lot of men in this business. And you’re one of the good ones, at least at first blush. It would have been nice to get to know you better.”
Josh looked down at his lap, then out the window. Alexis looked at the stiff hands flat on his thighs, at the rigid set of his shoulders. “Hey. Relax, okay? I just said you were a nice guy, that’s all.” She waited until he looked over at her. “Okay?” When he nodded tentatively, she smiled. “So this is the part where you tell me I’m a nice girl, that you like me too.”
Josh looked at her for a moment, then shifted his gaze out the window. “Okay. You’re a nice girl.” He looked back at her, smiling slightly. “How was that?”
She gave a low laugh. “Look at me. I’m blushing.”
Five minutes later it was Josh who broke the silence. “Mind my asking a question?”
“After all we’ve come to mean to each other? How could I mind?”
“I’m afraid it’s a variation on the ‘what’s a nice girl’ question, so if you don’t…”
“You mean, how did a sophisticated thing like me wind up driving a cab?”
“Something like that.”
She looked over and focused on him for a second, then returned her gaze to the road. “You’re interested in the answer, aren’t you?”
“Why else would I ask?”
“Most of the time, when I get that question, it’s from one of those well-intentioned liberals who want to help me find another line of work. They’ll ask me questions about my background, like they’re mining for my latent skills. That if I could just tap into them, I could be a ballerina or a senator.”
“Do you like what you do?”
“It makes ends meet. And there are lots of worse ways to make money. I see a lot of them every day.”
“I know what you mean.”
“No, you don’t,” she said sharply. “I don’t mean hooking. I mean banking and sales. Or being a lawyer.” She caught herself. “Look, I’m sorry if that’s not what you meant. I just get so damn sick of men presuming that a woman who…”
“No, that was what I meant. And I had it coming.”
She grinned at him. “Sorry you brought up the subject?”
“No. Look how much shorter the ride already is. But I didn’t get an answer.”
She picked up the speed and wove in and out of traffic for a few minutes. Finally she settled down in the middle lane and relaxed her grip on the steering wheel. “You live your life a certain way, then it changes. And you find out that you’re not prepared for where you find yourself. I didn’t go to college to get married, but it worked out that way. I was one of those aimless students—majoring in American Studies.” She chuckled. “Thank God for the Sixties. Anyway, I fell in love with this guy—a law student, of all things—and he graduated, passed the bar and got a job at a good firm here in Chicago. I wasn’t that crazy about school and I got a job at the firm where he worked. Not a legal secretary, not a personal secretary. Something in-between. I liked it well enough.
“Anyway, I did that for a couple of years while he was making his bones. But then he was a part of a team that won a major case and he was fast-tracked to partner. And all of a sudden it wouldn’t do for his wife to be taking dictation from his partners, so I quit.”
“Did you find another job?”
“Yep. Corporate wife. Joined the right charities, sharpened my tennis game. Learned how to tank when I was playing with one of the partners’ wives or in mixed doubles. All the basic life skills.”
“So what happened?”
“We got rich, I got tan and he got bored. He took a mistress and I made the mistake of finding out about it. I confronted him, we got into it, and he hit me.”
She saw him wince slightly. “Yeah. He was sorry the moment he hit me, I could see that. But he’d done it. And if he’d done it once, he could do it again.”
They entered the airport grounds. “What airline?”
“United.”
“Anyway, I knew enough to get out. That night. He was a lawyer, so I didn’t get as much as I might have wanted. But enough to buy myself a condo and take care of myself.”
She pulled up in front of the United terminal. They sat in the cab for a moment. “So how did a nice girl like you wind up driving a cab?” Josh asked, grinning.
Alexis barked a laugh. “Never did get around to that, did we? Maybe the next time you’re in Chicago.” She popped the trunk from inside the car and got out, Josh following. She lifted his bag out and put it on the curb.
Josh stood curbside, his hands in his pocket. “I’m new to this kind of service. Do I tip you?”
“Goddamn right you do.”
He handed her a twenty. “Thanks for the ride. And the excitement the other night.” He held out his hand.
She shook his hand with the same firm grip as before, but this time she held it. “You don’t go out with women, do you?”
His gaze narrowed. “No.”
“You should.” And she let go of his hand.
Donna came home later that week, leaving Carol to finish up negotiations. Pete and Harry drove up to San Francisco to pick her up, then continued up the coast for a bed-and-breakfast getaway. When they returned to Moetown, Donna updated the others about Chicago, the conference and the conversations with Morgan, her editor. She had worked in the mornings with Carol and Morgan on the larger themes of the book. Afternoons Carol worked with Morgan
on specific items and Donna and Alexis visited art galleries and museums.
“Who’s this Alexis?” William asked.
“Our driver. You’d like her. I invited her to visit, in fact.”
Josh looked up quickly and found Donna smiling at him. “Relax, Josh. I doubt she’ll come. But I did invite her.”
William looked from Donna to Josh. “Would I like her, Josh?”
“Who don’t you like, William?”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Later that night, before she headed off to bed, Donna found Josh in the kitchen doing the dishes. “I have a message from Alexis.”
Josh looked up from the sink but said nothing.
“She says, she lost most of her settlement playing the market. Driving was the only thing she knew how to do. She said she figured the suspense was keeping you up nights.”
CHAPTER 24
“How come you’re not with the beach boys?” The Gimp asked.
“When have you ever known me to like blistering while lying in sand?” William said, taking a seat at the bar.
The Gimp poured him a beer without being asked. “How’s Pete coming along?”
“Well, he’s going in, but only up to his waist. Still won’t put his face in, but you’ve got to admire his diligence.”
Pete, to everyone’s surprise, was afraid of the ocean. Deathly afraid. Lakes were fine—he had grown up on and in lakes. But while lakes could swallow you, oceans attacked you. Unforunately, Harry, following Josh’s lead, had fallen in love with the beach. So Pete was making a determined effort to overcome his phobia.
“Well, he’s got the right coach,” The Gimp said. “You ever see Josh bodysurf?”
“No, but from what I hear, he’s good. Pete says he watches him ride the larger waves and his balls go way up in his stomach and stay there. But again, that’s Pete.”
The Gimp shook his head. “No, he’s good. Some of the guys up here have been surfing all their lives. They say when the waves get really big—happens maybe three, four times a year—they head down to the cove with the boards they keep just for large days. And they say that Josh’s the only one out there bodysurfing.”