Page 49 of Pro Bono

“None of it is true. Are you out of your mind?”

“No, I mean, if that really happened, they wouldn’t be charged?”

“That’s what I think, and that’s all that matters to the story. When I told Fran she hugged and kissed me, but it could have been to check if I’d been drinking or smelled like another woman’s perfume. So far, she’s only talked as though she believes me.”

“Okay,” Ollonsun said. “It’s worth a try. Thanks.”

“You’ve got to use it. Just don’t embellish it or change it. We both know the sisters are going to compare stories. Chris might even have heard it already.” He saw a light flashing on his desk phone. “Look, I’ve got to go. Please don’t screw this up.”

“Bye.”

He put away his cell phone and picked up the desk phone. “Ronald Talbert.”

“Ron, it’s Connie. Come see me in my office.”

“I’ll be right there.” He stood up, but then he had to grab the desk to steady himself. He refused to think he was feeling faint. He had just stood up too fast and felt off balance for a moment. He had a mirror hanging from the inner side of his door so he didn’t go out to greet a client with his collar inside out or his tie loose, and he looked at himself. He looked bad because of his battered and bruised face, made worse by his sour expression. He manufactured a smile, but that made it hurt, and the smile was too big. He modified it slightly, went out, and headed for Connie Pollock’s office.

Connie had started at Founding Fathers at the same level as Talbert just months before he had eleven years ago. She’d had a pleasant-looking face, about average for a woman in her twenties, but she was smart and funny, and they had enjoyed each other’s company. They had called each other Ronnie and Connie, and soon others picked it up. The work was hard and the hours were long. Sometimes after work a group of five or six of the newer employees had stopped in a nearby bar for a drink before splitting up to go back to their small, cheap apartments.

One night the others had dispersed quickly, and he and Connie had talked about staying for another drink, but she had suggested instead that they have it at her apartment. At the time they had both been single, and the idea had seemed to be a good one, and then so had spending the night. They had remained friends rather than a couple, but for a time they had gotten together occasionally to catch up with each other, always ending the night with sex. Within three years they had both gotten married, and the sexual part of the friendship ended. Over time the intelligence she’d shown had won her several promotions, and now she was the head of Talbert’s section, his immediate supervisor.

They were still friends, but the situation was further complicated by the fact that a few times—most of them while they were out of town fora conference or training session—they’d gotten together again in one of their rooms at the hotel. He had never considered himself to be cheating. Connie was a special case. Most people had friendships with people of the opposite sex whom they hugged. In a way, their times together were like that—just a longer, deeper hug with a special friend.

He reached her door and knocked, and she swung the door open, let him inside, and shut the door. He said, “Hi, Connie.” He noticed she seemed strange, but he maintained his smile and waited. She pointed at the chair in front of her desk. Instead of going to sit at her desk she pulled another chair up to face his. “What the hell happened to your face?”

“I fell.”

She stared into his eyes. “Ronnie, you know that I love you. You’ve always been one of my very best work friends. I sometimes think having you around was the main reason I made it through my first year or two here.”

“I feel the same way,” he said. “You seem troubled. What can I do to help?”

She winced. “God, that’s so like you, wanting to help me. For our whole time here, I’ve tried to look out for you, mostly by sharing any intel I got from on high that might help you avoid trouble or get a jump on something. Today I noticed you seem to be of special interest to the watchdogs.”

“Watchdogs?”

“I think the Fraud division must be looking into one of your accounts. I was in a meeting with my boss when the fraud supervisor, Marissa Susquino, called his assistant and asked to come and see him right away. He said, ‘Let me talk to her.’ He got on and said, ‘What’s this about?’ While he was listening to the answer, he said, “Hold on a minute.’ He turned to me and said, ‘We’ll have to finish later. I’ve got to take this.’ When I went past his assistant’s desk, I saw she’d written ‘Re: Ronald Talbert.’ ”

He could feel sweat on his forehead and under his arms. “Interesting.” It was all he could manage.

She said, “Tell me what this is about.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe one of my clients has been investing somebody else’s money.”

“Tell me what this is about,” she repeated.

He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m in trouble, Connie. I never meant this to happen. It just did. As soon as I knew some ways to do it, the temptation was overwhelming. I’ve told you how Fran and her sister are. They grew up without ever having to think about money. It was just there when they wanted it. Fran hasn’t ever even wasted money on crap. We have a normal house and two cars that are nice, but not crazy. It was just that their great grandfather, grandfather, and father each added to the family fortune, so they think of money as just something men take care of. I needed to live up to that.” He looked down and away from her.

“You stole money. Is that it?”

“From a client.”

“One client?”

He was silent.

She looked at him differently. All the confidence and charm and humor had been drained out of him. He was sitting a yard from her and she could see he was about to start crying. “Okay, more than one,” she said. “I’ll try to do what I can to help you, as I always have. But just let me ask you this. Did you ever think about what was likely to happen to me? I’ve been your boss for six years, the one who always gave you the very top evaluations, the one who was paid to know everything about your work.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll make sure nobody thinks you were in on it or even knew.”

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