Discretion (7 page)

“Good morning!” Anna said. “I made you breakfast.”

Olivia glared into the frying pan. “I hate scrambled eggs.”

Anna had seen the girl devour a cheddar omelette last weekend. “Hm. How about I add cheese?”

“Yuck.”

“I could toast you a waffle?”

“No, thanks.”

“Okay, you name it.”

“I’ll wait for my daddy to make me breakfast.”

Anna kept the smile pasted on her face. She felt a sudden longing for the peace of her own apartment, where she could just listen to Matt Lauer bantering with Ann Curry as she got ready for work. Anna loved curling up with Jack at night. But she wished she had a clue how to win over his stubborn first-grader in the morning.

Things hadn’t always been tense between her and Olivia. When Anna was someone who stopped by occasionally, Olivia seemed to love her. But as Anna’s relationship with Jack grew from friendship to romance, Olivia withdrew. The little girl understood that there was someone who was becoming almost as important to her father as she was. She didn’t like it.

Anna wondered if her transition into the Bailey family had been too fast. The first time she spent the night, Anna snuck in and out of the house so Olivia wouldn’t know she’d slept over. If Anna had a daughter of her own, she wouldn’t want the child to see new men staying the night. But Jack insisted on frankness in his family. If Anna was staying over, he said, Olivia had a right to know. Anna was surprised that he wanted to integrate her so quickly into Olivia’s life. Although Anna loved Jack, she wasn’t confident that the relationship would be permanent. Her own childhood had taught her to be skeptical about long-term romance. She hadn’t found the words to broach that with him. It seemed too cruel to say: “Are you sure you want me to stay over? Because Olivia will be confused if and when we break up.”

Anna wanted things to work out with Jack, but she hedged her bets. A month ago, he’d asked her to move in. The offer was, in some ways, a technicality, since she spent most nights here. She demurred and kept her apartment in the city. The rent was ridiculous, especially for a place she didn’t use. But it was like keeping a life raft strapped to the side of a yacht.

Anna looked at the pan of eggs, then back at Olivia. She could hear Jack upstairs in the shower. They would need to leave for court soon. There was no time for him to make a whole separate breakfast for Olivia after he got dressed. Anna had never thought that winning over a first-grader would be so challenging. She wished her own mother were alive to give her pointers.

“Tell you what,” Anna said. “We can make anything you want. And you can make something for your dad, too. We’ll surprise him.”

Olivia was fascinated by kitchen gadgets but not allowed to cook on her own. She narrowed her eyes, considering what was more important: defying Anna or using the toaster.

“Okay,” Olivia said.

Anna watched as the little girl toasted three slices of bread and grabbed ingredients from the fridge and cabinets. Olivia covered the toast with peanut butter, then bologna, then honey, then crushed some Fruity Pebbles on top. “For crunch.”

Anna considered, then decided against trying to guide the creation. You had to pick your fights.

“Your breakfast,” Olivia said, handing Anna one of the gooey slices of toast.

Was that a peace offering? The toast looked disgusting, but Anna couldn’t turn down the chance to make the little girl happy. She took a bite. Her teeth sank through the layers of sugared cereal, honey, bologna, peanut butter, then toast. Each clung to the roof of her mouth, adding a new layer of horrible. After chewing for a long time, Anna managed to swallow the bite and suck the gooey bits from between her teeth.

“Delicious,” she pronounced.

“Have some more,” Olivia said, sliding into her chair at the kitchen table.

Anna put the concoctions on three plates and sat down at the table. She stared at the toast, and the toast seemed to stare back at her, mocking her with glittering honey dripping off floppy pink lunch meat. All she wanted was a granola bar. Olivia sat next to her, watching expectantly. Anna took a swig of coffee, braced herself, and took a bite, then another. With a concerted effort to override her tastebuds, Anna ate the entire piece.

When she was done, Anna smiled at Olivia. “Thanks for my breakfast!” She looked at the colorful blob still sitting on the little girl’s plate. “Aren’t you going to eat yours?”

“Of course not. It looks terrible. I’ll just have a granola bar.”

Olivia trotted out of the room just as Jack came in. He surveyed the mess and grinned at Anna. “For a woman who’s so formidable in court, you certainly are a pushover with Olivia.”

“The difference is, I want Olivia to like me.”

He kissed her lightly on the lips, but he didn’t claim that—somewhere deep inside, perhaps—Olivia really did like her. Anna appreciated that Jack was honest.

“Why don’t we stay at my place tonight?” Anna ventured.

He shook his head. “You know how hard it is to find an overnight sitter.”

Anna nodded. Jack was ten years older; he had a child, a mortgage, a firmly established schedule. She wished there was a way to integrate him into
her
life, but there was always a reason why it didn’t work. If Anna wanted to be in this relationship, she had to become part of his life.

“You look gorgeous,” he said, running gentle fingers through her hair. She usually wore it in a ponytail but had blown it out this morning. It looked sleek and professional, tucked behind her ears and falling just below her shoulders. She wore her best black pantsuit and a double-stranded necklace of big silver links. Usually, the necklace felt too dressy, but today she hoped it gave her an air of gravitas. She was nervous about the hearing. Looking the part helped her feel the part.

“Thanks.” She glanced at him appreciatively. He struck a tall, impressive figure in his charcoal-gray suit. His smoothly shaved head lent a hint of street tough to his otherwise Brooks Brothers aura. She remembered how intimidating he seemed when they first met a year and a half ago. “You’re not too shabby yourself.”

Jack smiled and grabbed a couple of granola bars from the cupboard. He offered one to Anna, but she shook her head, feeling a bit green from Olivia’s toast. She threw some cat food into Raffles’s bowl. The tabby streaked into the room and purred as Anna scratched behind his ears. He’d put on a lot of weight since his days as a bony neighborhood stray. Anna liked seeing his striped orange fur plumped up with feline paunch.

Olivia came back into the kitchen, wearing her Crocs and the
Princess and the Frog
backpack. She held a sprig of peppermint from the garden. Jack knelt down so she could put the mint inside his suit jacket, next to his handkerchief. This was their daily ritual. He liked to chew the leaves throughout the day.

Anna would leave now and take the Metro to work. Jack would wait until Olivia’s nanny, Luisa, came to take over. Anna preferred arriving separately at the office anyway.

“Now clear your plates from the table,” he said to Olivia. “And give Anna a hug goodbye.”

Anna shook her head subtly at Jack. The more he pushed Olivia toward her, the more the little girl pulled away. But he smiled with tender confidence. He was accustomed to being in charge and determined to orchestrate the relationship his way.

Olivia rolled her eyes, brought a plate to the sink, and reluctantly patted Anna on the back. Anna’s arms went up to embrace the little girl, but Olivia ducked away.

Anna hoped she’d have a more receptive audience in the courthouse.

Ninety minutes later,
Anna and Jack walked into a courtroom in D.C.’s federal District Court. They wore dark suits, towed wheeled briefcases, and kept a respectable distance between them. They were two serious prosecutors heading into battle. Anna hoped no one could guess that a few hours ago, they’d been making love.

She tried not to feel overwhelmed by the courtroom. It was designed to impress, with soaring ceilings, marble floors, and a huge bench from which the judge could peer down at the players. A giant metal medallion of an eagle was mounted on the wall above the judge’s bench. This wasn’t where Anna, as a sex-crimes prosecutor, usually tried cases; the vast majority of her cases belonged in D.C. Superior Court, the local courthouse next door. But because the crime had taken place at the U.S. Capitol, the prosecutors had the option of bringing it in federal court. They’d jumped on it. Federal courthouses were less crowded, federal facilities were nicer, federal judges had more time to think about cases. The lawyers who practiced in federal court had a more genteel reputation. Nevertheless, Anna knew this was going to be a street fight as fierce as any in Superior Court.

Daniel Davenport sat at the defense table, surrounded by a team of suits, eight in total. Junior partners, associates, and paralegals, Anna guessed. She and Jack were starting off at a disadvantage.

Jack looked unfazed. He nodded at the defense lawyers and said good morning as he passed them. She did the same.

Aside from Davenport’s lawyers, the courtroom was surprisingly empty. The hearing had been docketed as an emergency late last night; it hadn’t gone through the computer system that reporters and court followers checked.

The Congressman and his staffers were nowhere to be seen. Davenport’s job was to handle this as discreetly as possible, with the least possible impact on the Congressman himself.

As Anna and Jack set up at the prosecution table, one of Davenport’s junior associates came over and handed her a binder, thick with defense motions that Davenport’s team had drafted overnight and filed minutes ago. Anna didn’t think she was imagining the smug look on the guy’s face. At the same time, she could feel his envy. He looked about her age, but he was relegated to writing motions, while she would be arguing before the judge. It might be years before he said anything in court. Being a law-firm lawyer was nothing like the image on TV—it was a job spent almost entirely sitting in front of a computer, writing memoranda or clicking through scans of corporate documents. But this junior associate could console himself with his $180,000 salary, over three times what Anna made as a second-year AUSA.

Anna opened the binder. As she and Jack read the motions, she was careful to keep her head several inches away from his, even though it was harder to read that way. She didn’t want anyone to think they looked too cozy together.

The defense had moved to deny the search warrant on the grounds that there was no probable cause to search Lionel’s office; to deny the warrant or restrict the search based on the Speech or Debate Clause; and to gag the prosecutors and seal the courtroom. The voluminous defense motions were detailed, well researched, specific, and persuasive. And they had done it all in one night! She was more than a little intimidated.

“Psst! Anna!”

She glanced behind her. Grace sat in the front row; she signaled for Anna to step out of the courtroom. Anna joined her in the small anteroom outside the courtroom door. There, Grace spun her around. “What’s on your suit, girl?”

Anna looked over her shoulder. There was a gooey brown, pink, and green lump on the back of her left shoulder. “Yikes. Peanut butter and Fruity Pebbles.”

Grace pulled a wet wipe from her purse. The best prosecutors, like Boy Scouts, came prepared. She scrubbed the back of Anna’s suit.

“Don’t worry,” Grace said. “Lynn came to court yesterday looking all nice from the front but with a line of her baby’s spit-up dripping down her back. The hazards of a working mom, right? You just skipped a decade and went right to sugared cereal.”

Anna nodded and smiled, but her mind stuck on the phrase “working mom.” That wasn’t her. She had no idea how to be that. She wasn’t sure she was ready to learn.

“Jack made Olivia hug me goodbye,” Anna said. “I guess she didn’t appreciate that.”

“She’s a modern girl, doesn’t like to be told what to do.” Grace blotted Anna’s shoulder with a dry napkin. “So she’s not falling for your charms, huh?”

Anna shook her head.

“Hang in there. No one can resist you for long.” Grace came around and studied Anna critically. “Gorgeous. Now go knock those high-priced hired guns on their asses.”

“Thanks, Grace.”

They hurried back to the courtroom, and Anna took her seat again at counsel table. She smiled at Jack, trying to convey competence, cool, and the impression that everything was under control. No peanut butter here.

He gave her an encouraging smile in return. His light green eyes, next to his brown skin, reminded her of spring leaves on a strong tree.

Ten minutes later, the side door opened and the judge strode out. “Remain seated,” she said as she took the bench. Despite the command, everyone momentarily lifted their butts a few inches from their chairs.

Judge Lydia Redwood was a tiny black woman with silver hair pulled back into a neat bun. She had perfectly straight posture and, although she was in her sixties, a face as smooth and radiant as her
pearl earrings. Whenever Anna sat in her courtroom, she wanted to ask what moisturizer she used. Anna thought Redwood was a mixed draw. The woman was whip-smart and meticulous in her legal reasoning. But she also had a history with Emmett Lionel. Like the U.S. Attorney, D.C. judges were appointed by the President, but great deference was given to the recommendations of D.C.’s Congressional Delegate. For the past thirty-one years, that had been Emmett Lionel. He’d recommended Judge Redwood for the seat she now held. The judge literally owed her career to him.

“Counsel, please identify yourselves for the record,” the judge said.

Anna stood up. “Anna Curtis, along with Jack Bailey, for the United States.”

Anna got a thrill every time she identified herself as a lawyer on behalf of the USA. Her job was not just to win cases but to seek justice. Most lawyers were duty-bound to the narrow interests of individual clients, not free to aim for the result they believed was fair. Anna had a luxury most lawyers didn’t have—her job was to do the right thing.

“Daniel Davenport of Wilbur and Cooperman, here on behalf of Congressman Emmett Lionel, whose office the government seeks to invade.” The silver-haired lawyer looked tall and sleek in his tailored suit. His voice was kindly, but with an undertone of passionate indignation, like that of a loving father defending his child.