64
DUNCAN HAD gotten home a little before ten—not an especially late work night by his standards. He was almost never home much before nine: on those rare days he was able to get out of the office by seven or so, he generally hit the gym for an hour.
Duncan ate dinner at his desk roughly three times a week, ordering online through SeamlessWeb, charging it directly to a client’s bill. But lately he’d been feeling a little antsy in the office, more in a hurry to get out of there. Six months ago he’d felt confident that he’d make partner, spend the rest of his professional life at the firm. But that felt blown off course now, even if he couldn’t entirely put his finger on why. He hadn’t actually done anything to get on Blake’s bad side, other than not taking the hint about bringing the Nazario case to a quick close.
He’d been home for only about ten minutes when the doorman called up. Duncan, who got unexpected guests popping over approximately never, went to answer it. The doorman’s thick Slavic accent made understanding difficult, but it sounded to Duncan like he was announcing Leah Roth.
Not only had Leah never been to his apartment, but Duncan didn’t even know how she would have his address. Duncan had no idea what would prompt Leah to stop by unannounced, but he was pretty sure good news didn’t make the list.
Duncan wasn’t sure how to greet her, but did his best to force a friendliness he did not feel. For her part, Leah’s usual cool seemed slightly manufactured; Duncan wondered if she was nervous.
“So,” Duncan said, “how do you know where I live?”
“That’s the least of what I know,” Leah replied.
“Can I get you something? Water, beer, booze?”
“I won’t be staying long. I told you, Duncan, to stay away from that reporter. Why couldn’t you do that?”
Duncan felt a stab of something like fear, but tried to push it aside. “You mean the Journal reporter? She was interested in the Nazario case is all.”
“Knowing when you’re caught, Duncan, I would think is an important skill for a lawyer to have.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Candace Snow was in your apartment the other day. You’d already resigned from the Nazario case.”
“How do you know who’s been in my apartment?” Duncan asked, allowing himself to show anger. “What is this, Leah?”
Leah looked genuinely sad. “I offered you so much, Duncan. It was an extremely good offer, especially since all you had to do to get it was nothing.”
Duncan noted the past tense, trying to figure out what he could do to make peace. “I haven’t betrayed either you or your company,” he said. “I don’t know what’s bothering you, exactly, but I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Leah had recovered her composure. “If you told that reporter one word that was privileged, I’ll have your law license.”
Duncan was tired of her threats. “I see we’ve moved from the carrot to the stick,” he said with a half smile.
“Just remember, you made the choice here, not me,” Leah said. “This is good-bye, Duncan. Life is about to get very challenging for you.”