Linda arrived a few minutes later, apologizing for keeping her waiting, and put a hand on Juliana’s shoulder. She was an attractive woman who looked easily ten years younger than she was. Linda and she had had their issues in the past — for a while, when they were both in the US Attorney’s office, they were competitive — but now they were allies. They’d even done SoulCycle together. Linda was wearing a suit of pale green silk. Her hair was light brown with blond highlights. I work in a sack all day, Linda had once said. When I dress up I want to look nice. And she had the figure to pull it off.
Juliana stood and gave Linda a hug, inhaling her wonderfully sultry perfume.
“You’re still on civil, aren’t you, poor thing,” Linda said with a big smile.
Twice a year they rotated between civil and criminal cases, and Linda made no secret of the fact that she much preferred criminal, where the action was, even though some of the homicide cases they had to hear could be wrenching. The criminal session, Linda had once announced, was heartache; the civil session was headache.
“I like it,” Juliana said. “You know that.”
“Even the endless Wheelz case?”
She shook her head. “Well, except for that,” Juliana admitted.
Linda sat in the chair next to her, rather than across from her. When the waitress approached, Juliana ordered a cosmo and Linda ordered a Grey Goose vodka martini. Juliana was determined to limit her drinking to one cosmo tonight.
“You sounded concerned on the phone, Jules. Is everything okay? The family, the kids?” When Linda crossed her legs you could see the effects of her daily Pilates sessions.
“Everyone’s fine. Ashley’s in Namibia and loving it.” Well, as much as you could “love” taking care of terminally ill people; she couldn’t even imagine what that was like, those poor women infected with AIDS by their husbands.
“Ashley’s still in Namibia? God bless that child.”
“We have to schedule Skype sessions once a week. I miss her.”
“Of course you do. And Jake?”
“I wish he’d go off to college already.”
Linda laughed. She knew that Juliana was kidding, mostly. They both complained, jokingly, about their kids, knowing that they loved and appreciated their children, while agreeing that having teenagers in the house was a special kind of stressful. She didn’t know what she’d do if it weren’t for Duncan, who was like the Teen Whisperer. He and the kids always seemed to be tuned in to the same frequency. But she worried about Jake a lot recently, his apathy, his dropping grades. It was like he was floating through life, blowing with the winds. Whereas Ashley had always been the straight-A student. Maybe girls were just easier to parent.
“I know you worry about him,” Linda said. “That’s not going to change. I get it. After all you’ve been through, my God. But you know you’ve gotta fight that. You can’t have that in your head every day.”
“I know. You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”
“You had something you wanted to hash out?”
“Yeah, it’s this weird situation. On the Wheelz case, in fact. So Wheelz just added another lawyer to the defense, and it turns out to be a guy I know.”
“Okay?” Linda blinked a few times: What’s the big deal?
Juliana knew she was treading a difficult path here. She obviously couldn’t tell Linda the full truth, that she’d actually slept with the guy. That was the sort of thing that became hot gossip. Also, she didn’t want to tell her what had happened because it felt like just saying it aloud would make it real.
Instead, she said, “We had a drink, last week in Chicago.”
“At the bar conference?”
Juliana nodded. “I don’t know if I should say something.”
Linda shrugged. “Isn’t Harlan Madden the lead?”
“He is. And Glenda Craft for the plaintiff.”
“You’ve socialized with Craft and Madden both, I assume.”
“I have.”
Linda tipped her head to one side and peered at her strangely. “The new defense lawyer is with Batten Schechter?”
“I assume so.”
“A drink?” Linda said. She smiled again, cryptically. “You had a drink with him. Fine, we’ll go with that. A drink. Honey, no reason to be ashamed. You would be shocked at how many married women have affairs. Quiet little affairs on the side.” Linda had been divorced since her late thirties.
Juliana flushed. Was she that transparent? Was there something about the way she’d talked about Matías that gave it away? “Oh, come on,” she said.
“Marriage is dull and grinding and constraining, and you know it.”
Well, that’s why you’re divorced, she thought. “Can be,” she said.
“We idealize marriage, and turns out the actual thing is a crashing disappointment.”
“Not for everybody,” Juliana protested.
“I’ve got a friend, I’m not going to tell you her name, she’s one hundred percent faithful to her husband except when she’s out of town on work each month. You can love your husband and still have unmet needs.”
“Maybe so.”
“Listen: since 1990, the number of women who report they’ve cheated on their husbands has gone up forty percent. Forty percent.”
“What about the number of men who admit they’ve cheated?”
“Stayed flat. See, women are turning to infidelity as a way to stay in their marriages! Because married life is boring and constraining.”
“Okay,” Juliana said. This was not the conversation she wanted to have. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell Linda about Chicago. If she “confided” in Linda, it would be public in a matter of hours.
“Your husband is like your third kid. Another child to pick up after. You’re a judge, you’re a professional woman with a big career, yet you have to get dinner on the table and do the dishes. Right?”
“Actually, no. Duncan helps out a lot,” she said. “He cooks dinner more often than I do. I’ll just get takeout from Whole Foods or something.”
“Okay, so you had drinks with a lawyer in your courtroom. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’ve also had drinks with the defense and the plaintiff’s side, right? Why is that an issue?”
“The question is, Should I be recusing myself?”
“You know the drill. It’s a two-pronged analysis. You examine your own conscience and ask yourself, Can I be objective? So, can you?”
Juliana nodded. “For sure.” She wasn’t going to let what had happened between her and Matías factor into the court case. That night — it was over. It was one and done, as far as she was concerned. But what the hell was he doing on the defense team? Why had he lied about being in venture capital?
“And is this a situation where your impartiality might reasonably be questioned?”
Questioned by whom? she wondered.
Her stomach tightened.
She knew she wasn’t biased, but would others have reason to wonder? Only if they knew the truth. But if she didn’t say anything, who was going to know? Yet if she told anyone the truth, her life would change forever.
“Sorry, what did you say?” She’d lost her train of thought.
“Is there any reason to question your impartiality?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
She looked away, feeling slightly relieved.
And then she noticed a man sitting in a plump leather club chair in a dark corner of the library.
It was him. Matías.