"Thanks, Russell. But you shouldn't employ assholes. You can't trust them."
"You're probably right."
Andy and his client climbed the stairs to the little office. Andy propped open the window and checked to make sure that Darrell wasn't bullying Floyd T. again.
"That was nice, what you did for Floyd T."
"Just a hundred bucks."
"No, making Darrell apologize."
"Floyd T. earned it."
"I didn't know you two had met."
"First time I stopped by, when you weren't here. We visited a while. He's a human being, Andy. And an interesting one."
"Darrell's lucky Floyd T. was sitting down. If he was standing, he might've taken his leg off and beaten the hell out of Darrell with it."
Russell sighed. "Darrell is… Darrell."
"Why do you have a guy like him working for you?"
"Because it's hard to find a compassionate bodyguard, Andy." He shook his head. "It's the world we live in. I'm worth fifteen billion dollars, so I'm vulnerable to kidnapping. So is my wife. So I need a bodyguard. Being wealthy has its benefits, but there are burdens, too."
They sat across the card table from each other.
"I just drove by the development sites."
" Renovation sites."
"Construction is progressing well. I knew you were the right lawyer for that job, Andy."
"Thanks."
"And I think you're the right lawyer for this job."
"What job?"
Russell leaned back.
"Andy, I want to make amends."
"For what?"
"The past. I've reexamined my life and found it wanting."
"Wanting for what? You're a billionaire."
"For what money can't buy. Peace. I'm not proud of everything I've done, Andy. I deeply regret certain of my actions."
He sounded like that senator who had gotten caught with his pants down in an airport bathroom. Andy nodded.
"I know what you mean, Russell. Fortunately, my mind has blocked out the memories."
"Because of the psychic pain?"
"Because of the Coronas."
"Oh. Well, what I've done is a bit more serious than getting drunk and making a fool of myself."
He didn't know about making a fool of himself.
"Andy, I-"
Andy had tried to lighten the moment, but Russell was having none of it. He remained deadly serious. Andy was sure his client was about to confess to murder.
— "I didn't treat the women in my life well."
Andy realized he had been holding his breath; he exhaled. That's it? But then he thought, Maybe he had abused them, although any womyn in SoCo could kick Russell Reeves' ass into next week. He didn't have the body mass to abuse women.
"Your wife?"
"My girlfriends."
"What happened?"
The billionaire across the card table sighed.
"I loved them and left them."
"You mean, you broke up with your girlfriends?"
Russell nodded.
"But you didn't hurt them… physically?"
"Oh, no. I just left them without concern for their emotional pain. I thought only about myself."
"So you're feeling guilty about your ex-girlfriends, from what, fifteen, twenty years ago?"
Russell nodded again.
"How many are we talking-one, two?"
"Seventeen."
" Seventeen? You had seventeen girlfriends? Before you were rich?"
He shrugged. "I have a great personality."
"You must also have the biggest…" Andy shook his head. "Seventeen. Wow. That's impressive, Russell."
"Andy, haven't you thought about your old girlfriends? Wondered where they're at, how they're doing?"
"I've only had one girlfriend, back in fourth grade. Mary Margaret McDermott. She's married to a doctor, got four kids."
"You're twenty-nine and your last girlfriend was in fourth grade?"
"Until now. Thanks to you."
"Me?"
"You pay me well."
Russell Reeves smiled. "Yes, I suppose a Whole Foods girl doesn't come cheap."
"You know about Suzie?"
Or Bobbi.
"I stopped in one day for a smoothie and saw you talking to a young woman. A blonde."
Suzie.
"I assumed she was your girlfriend. She's quite lovely."
"She is sweet."
Andy's thoughts drifted back to that morning in bed… Suzie's awesome naked body… and they "Andy?"
"What? Oh, yeah, your ex-girlfriends."
"I want to make it up to them."
"How?"
"The only way I can-money."
"You want to give your old girlfriends money because you broke up with them a long time ago?"
"Because I used them as sexual objects for my own pleasure."
"Russell, that's what men do. Women, too. Down here in SoCo, we just ask that they do it inside." He shook his head. "Was it consensual?"
"Of course."
"Then what's the problem?"
"Guilt."
"Are you Catholic, too?"
"No."
Andy grunted. "So what's the job?"
"Find them. Give them money. Make their lives better."
"You want me to find your old girlfriends and give them money? As simple as that?"
"As simple as that."
"I just hand each woman a check and say, 'Russell Reeves says hi'?"
"No. I want to do this anonymously."
"Why?"
"Seventeen women, one might go to the press. Can you imagine that in the tabloids? They'd have a field day."
"I guess that would make the papers."
"Andy, I want you to find my old girlfriends. If they're in debt, I'm going to pay off their debts. If they're sick, I'm going to pay for their medical care. If they're homeless, I'm going to buy them a home. I'm going to make things right by making their lives better. But this assignment must remain absolutely secret. You must not reveal this to anyone-not even Suzie."
"Why don't you just hire a PI?"
"PIs talk. They sell information. And they can testify. You can't."
Andy leaned back in his chair.
"The privilege."
Russell Reeves nodded.
"The attorney-client privilege," Andy said. "I can't disclose anything to anyone. I can't even be compelled to testify about this in a court of law."
"Exactly. And if you did tell your girlfriend and it ended up in the papers?"
"I'd be disbarred."
His billionaire client nodded again.
"Absolute secrecy, Andy."
Russell handed a document to Andy across the desk. It was two pages of names and addresses.
"That's all you have?"
"Their names and last-known addresses."
"Russell, I don't even know where to start."
Russell gestured at the document.
"Bottom of the last page, there's a name. Hollis McCloskey. He's a private investigator downtown, ex-FBI. Upper-echelon type. My lawyers have used him on corporate investigations. He doesn't usually hunt people down, but he will for the right price."
"I thought you didn't want to hire a PI?"
"I don't. I want you to hire him. Give him the list, nothing more. Don't mention my name. Tell him to find them, learn everything about them-their assets, debts, husbands, children-and compile a dossier on each. But his job ends there. He is not to make contact with the women. That's your job. Figure out what they need and how I can help them. Then bring it to me."
"How will I know if I've got the right women?"
"Take photos. I'll know."
"I don't have a camera."
"Buy one. My tab."
"This big-time PI, he's not going to be cheap, Russell."
"I wired fifty thousand to your trust account this morning, while you were in traffic court. Pay him whatever it takes."
"Russell, why me for this job? I mean, I understand the SoCo deals, but your downtown lawyers can do this. They can hire this McCloskey dude."
"I don't want my regular lawyers to know anything about this."
"Why not?"
"Because I know Hollis and he knows me. And he knows my lawyers. If my lawyers hire Hollis, he'll know I'm the client. And if he knows, then his employees will know… and their wives and husbands and girlfriends and boyfriends will know. Everyone will know. I can't have that, Andy. No one can know."