“I see...” Lance said.
“Sorry. Blondie is eight feet of arrogant and annoying, but he’s also pretty important to—” She almost said “me” before catching herself. “Us. The Underground, I mean. Only about three of us know his legal name, the name he pastors under. Helps keep him safe from scandal.”
“A priest fucking a bunch of girls in a kink club probably should cause a scandal.”
“Yes, because the people he ministers to while they’re dying really care who he fucks in his free time.”
“Did I just hit a sore spot?” Lance asked.
“I’m Catholic,” Nora said. “The entire church is a sore spot with me. But, for the record, he doesn’t fuck a bunch of girls in kink clubs. He’s a sadist who plays with masochists but he never has sex with any of them.”
“None of them?”
“Well...” she said. “One of them.”
“Isn’t that against the church’s rules or something?”
“Isn’t it against the Navy’s rules to have gay Navy SEALs?”
“It is.”
“Did you serve with any?”
“Several.”
“Were they bad SEALs?”
“No. They were excellent SEALs and honorable men.”
“You didn’t turn them in to the Navy brass?”
“I see where you’re going with this. I’m not Catholic. I don’t care who he fucks as long as it’s legal and consensual.”
“No one should. He’s the best man on earth. He should be able to sleep with whoever he wants, get married, have kids if he wants them...”
“Do you like kids?” he asked.
“In small doses,” she said. “Why?”
“No reason,” Lance said and she heard a strange note in his voice. “So what’s your agenda for the day?”
Nora sensed he was attempting to change the subject. She let him.
“My agenda is not pissing off my clients. I see very wealthy and important men.”
“Kingsley told me that.”
“Yes, and they like their privacy. They aren’t going to be happy to have some man they’ve never met before or heard of hanging around. Let me do the talking. You act mute.”
“My lips are sealed, Mistress...I mean, Nora.”
“Better.”
“Thank you. Who’s on deck?” Lance asked as they turned into a residential neighborhood.
“First up today is the right Honorable Judge Melvin P. Bollingen.”
“A judge?”
“Sixty-two years old. Foot fetishist. Absolutely adorable. He looks like a wizard when he has his robes on.”
“Where are you meeting Gandalf?”
“His house. Every Saturday at noon. Standing appointment. Not literally. I sit down so he can play with my feet.”
“What kind of judge is he? Retired, I guess?”
Nora turned down the judge’s street.
“Nope. Still active. He’s some family court bigwig.”
“Family court?” Lance repeated the words with some interest. “Does he—”
“Hold that thought. I have to run,” she said, parking on a side street two houses down from his brownstone. She started to open the car door but Lance grabbed her arm.
“Whoa there. You can’t go without me. I’m not being paid to stay in the car.”
“Lance...listen to me. I have scary clients, and I have not-scary clients. Judge B. is of the not-scary variety. There are day-old kittens more threatening than he is. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t care. I’m going to do my job and my job is to stick by you.”
“I’m in too much of a hurry to argue with you or make the obvious ‘stick’ joke. Come on. You can hang with Mrs. B. while I’m working.” Nora walked briskly to the front door, Lance right behind her.
“That’s fine,” Lance said as Nora rang the bell. “Wait...Mrs. B.?”
The door opened before Nora could answer. A sweet older lady in an apron greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi, Mrs. B. I’m sorry if I’m late. Rough weekend.”
“It’s fine, dear,” she said. “We aren’t doing anything special today. Who’s your friend?”
“This is Lance. Be nice to him. He’s a veteran,” she said in a stage whisper and Mrs. B. gave Lance an approving look. “He’s babysitting me today. Would you mind babysitting him while I’m upstairs with the judge?”
“What branch of the service, young man?” Mrs. B. asked Lance.
“The Navy, ma’am.”
“Oh, he called me ‘ma’am,’” Mrs. B. said to Nora. “I like him already. He can help with my cookies any day.”