Jake didn’t bother to correct her. He knew exactly what a nightmare was and he was living it. “I can answer this for you. I’ll do it tomorrow at the office.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Pam picked up another set of papers and handed them over the desk. “They also need a complete and detailed statement of our net worth, which goes back before the nomination, and the worst part is, since there’s always a delay between the nomination and the hearing, sometimes three and four years, we have to keep updating the information, on a quarterly basis.” Pam threw up her hands. “It’s like doing your taxes every quarter for the next five years!”
Jake smiled. He wished he were living in Before, too, back when the only thing he had to worry about was paperwork. “Don’t worry, we’ll get through it.”
“I wonder if I’ll even make it.” Pam flopped back in her cushy chair. “They said one of the reasons my name came to the front was because I’m a registered Independent. I’m the most apolitical, but that’s not always the best thing.”
“Sure it is. You’re about the job, not about the politics.”
“Ha! Well, of course, it being the federal government, there is a document that actually gives you the precise qualifications for the job.” Pam searched around her desk, located some papers, and held them up. “Here we have a form. Presto!” She read aloud. “I’m paraphrasing, but the first requirement is, I have to be a citizen.”
“Check.”
“I have to have a reputation for integrity and good character.”
“Check,” Jake said, but that would disqualify her if anything about the accident came to light.
“I have to be fair and unbiased.”
“You are.”
“I have to be of sound mental and physical health.”
Jake smiled. “Mental health? You can’t win them all.”
“Very funny.” Pam grinned and returned to her document. “I have to be committed to equal justice under the law, have an outstanding legal ability, and competence and a willingness to manage trial proceedings.”
“You have all that. You’ll get it.”
“But the fact that I’m not political means that nobody really backs me from either party.”
“Or conversely, it means that neither party opposes you and your nomination sails through.”
“Thanks. I try to do the right thing, every case. I try to follow the law.” Pam raised her hand like the Statue of Liberty. “I stand for the law!”
“That’s my girl!” Jake masked his emotions, feeling like a total fraud.
“I’m also supposed to think about why I really want to be a federal judge.” Pam paused. “Let me remember how Rizzo put it. He told me I’m supposed to engage in ‘critical self-reflection.’ I told him don’t worry about that, I’m a woman. I wake up in critical self-reflection.”
Jake smiled. “You want it, right?”
“More than anything.”
Jake got up, walked around the desk, and gave her a big hug. “Then you shall have it, my love.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Jake was at work the next morning by six o’clock, watching the parking lot through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office and wondering if Lewis Deaner was going to pull up. Jake would be the first to see Deaner enter the building, whether or not Deaner parked in the spaces designated for Gardenia visitors. His office was three floors up, on the corner of the rectangular building, the corporate equivalent of the castle built on high ground. But it was still dark outside, and the lot was almost empty, so all Jake could see in the window was his own troubled reflection.
Still he kept an eye out, ignoring the flop sweat under his shirt. His tie felt like a noose. He’d barely slept last night, but he’d come to the office on time, always the first one in. He’d kept his door closed to signal no interruptions, but he still hadn’t gotten anything done. He couldn’t focus. He’d tried to do the things he had to do—check his email, then the markets in Japan, London, and New York—but all the while, in the back of his mind, he’d been worried about Lewis Deaner.
Jake caught sight of the treeline beyond the parking lot, and the jagged branches looked like so many hunting knives, cutting into the sky. He wondered for the umpteenth time if Deaner lived in the apartment building near Pike Road or worked in one of the businesses in the Concordia Corporate Center—or if he really knew anything about the accident, at all. Last night, Jake had searched online for information about Deaner or the accident, but found nothing new. He’d told Ryan not to confide in Dr. Dave, and Ryan had agreed, still shaken from driving down Pike Road again. When Jake had left him, Ryan was beginning to tackle his homework, hisAmerican Pageanttextbook open next to his laptop. He was studying the American Dream, and Jake ignored the irony.
He saw his own troubled reflection ghosted in the window, but checked the parking lot again. Cars began to enter, but no sign of Deaner. In time a frigid sun climbed the sky, and cars arrived one by one, first among them his ace office administrator, Amy Carlino, who parked her maroon Acura next to his rental Toyota. She got out, gathered up her big purse, and eyed his car, undoubtedly worried about why Jake had a rental. He felt touched, wondering how disillusioned she would be if she knew about Pike Road.
Jake watched the Gardenia lot fill up, and his employees emerged from their Nissans, Jettas, and SUVs, their phones to their ears, juggling travel mugs, cigarettes, purses, and tote bags. None of the spaces was officially reserved or assigned, but the employees knew where each other parked, like seats at a dinner table. So far, no sign of Deaner.
His attention turned to the farther sections of the lot, scanning it for an unfamiliar car. The lot accommodated five other companies, all of them bigger than Gardenia, so any car could have belonged to Deaner. He checked out the drivers, but none was Deaner. In the meantime, he could hear the noises outside his door as Gardenia filled up with all sixteen employees, which included five portfolio managers that reported to him, as well as specialists in banking, fixed income, research, sales, and marketing.
