The Tenth Justice Read Free Page B

said, shaking his head and leaning against the counter. “I think your Napoleonic side is showing tonight. This is the Supreme Court. There’s a fierce code of ethics that goes along with it.”
    “I still can’t believe you’re clerking for the Supreme Court,” Ober said as he peeled garlic over the sink. “The Supreme-fucking-Court! I’m answering phones, and you’re hanging out at the Supreme Court.”
    “I guess you didn’t get your promotion,” Ben said.
    “They completely dicked me over,” Ober said quietly. With two dimples that punctuated his pale cheeks and light freckles that dotted his nose, Ober was the only one of Ben’s roommates who still looked like he was in college. “The whole reason I went to Senator Steven’s office was because they said I’d only answer phones for a few weeks. That was five months ago.”
    “Did you confront them?” Ben asked.
    “I tried everything you said,” Ober explained. “I just can’t be as aggressive as you are.”
    “Did you at least threaten to quit?” Ben asked.
    “I kinda hinted at it.”
    “Hinted
at it?” Ben asked. “What’d they say?”
    “They said they’re sorry to hold me up, but they’re gearing up for an election year. Plus, there are at least a hundred people who would take the job in a heartbeat. I think I might have to urinate on the personnel manager’s desk.”
    “Now that’s a good idea,” Nathan said. “Urination is a solid response for a twenty-eight-year-old. I’ve always heard it’s the best path to a promotion.”
    “You have to be more forceful,” Ben said. “You have to make them think losing you would be the end of the world.”
    “And how do I do that?”
    “You have to present the total package,” Ben explained. Noticing Ober’s white oxford shirt, he added, “And you have to dress the part. I told you before—don’t wear that shirt. With your freckles and that blond hair, you look like a total kid.”
    “Then what am I supposed—”
    “Here.” Ben took off his jacket and handed it to Ober. When Ober put it on, Ben said, “That fits you pretty well. I want you to wear my suit and tie. It’s a good make-an-impression suit. Tomorrow morning, you’ll go back into work and ask again.”
    “I can’t ask again,” Ober said.
    “Maybe you can write them a letter,” Nathan suggested to Ober. “That way you don’t have to do it face-to-face.”
    “Absolutely,” Ben said. “If you want, I’ll draft it with you. Between the three of us, you’ll have a new job in no time.”
    “I don’t know,” Ober said. Taking off the jacket, he handed it back to Ben. “Maybe we should just forget about it.”
    “Don’t get frustrated,” Ben said. “We’ll get you through it.”
    “Why don’t you tell Ben your scratch-off story,” Nathan said, hoping to change the subject.
    “Oh, my God, I almost forgot! I’ll be right back.” Ober ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
    “We’ve really got to help him,” Ben said.
    “I know,” Nathan said. “Just let him tell his story—it’ll put him in a good mood.”
    “Let me guess. Does it have anything to do with the lottery?”
    “P. T. Barnum would’ve loved him like a son.”
    “How can he be so addicted?”
    “I don’t know why you’re surprised,” Nathan said. “You were in Europe for six weeks. Did you really expect the world to change while you were gone? Some things are immutable.”
    “What took you so long?” Ben asked when Ober returned.
    “You’ll see,” Ober began, his hands hidden behind his back. “So there I am, walking home from work in a pissy mood. Suddenly, I see a new poster in the window of Paul’s Grocery: WE GOT LOTTERY !”
    “Grammar is everything at Paul’s,” Nathan interrupted.
    Undeterred, Ober continued, “First I bought a scratch-off. I scratch it and I win a dollar, so I buy another ticket. Then I win two dollars!” His voice picked up speed. “Now I
know
I can’t lose. So I get two more