Page 54 of His Wall

"The last time we spoke — just the two of us, do you remember? You came looking for closure."

My stomach dropped.

The bar in the Village. Three years ago. I walked into that bar and sat across from Conrad Weiss and said things I did not say to Declan. I walked out feeling like a man whose grief was heard, and then I felt sick about it, and I did not tell a soul.

He had not forgotten.

"You mentioned a name in that conversation, Julian. A judge. I don't think you understood what you'd found at the time."

He paused. His eyes did not leave mine.

"I think you understand now."

I did not move.

"Get your partners in order. Stop digging. What you found is bigger than you, and if you keep pulling at it, the consequences won't be professional."

His pale blue eyes drifted past me. Past the open doors at the far end of the lobby. Through the room where the music was coming back up. Toward the terrace where Claire was still standing with one hand on the railing.

"They'll be personal."

He straightened his cuffs.

He stepped into the elevator.

The doors slid closed.

I stood in the lobby alone.

My hands were shaking. I put them in my pockets. The lobby was empty. The music from the ballroom was a low warm thing through the open doors at the end of it. A waiter passed me with an empty tray.

I lifted my chin.

My face settled into the mask I’d worn for ten years for clients I did not want to lose and for partners I did not want to scare and for women I did not want to keep.

I walked back to the party.

Claire was inside now. She was at the bar with Soleil. Soleil was laughing at something. Claire was laughing too — small and careful.

She looked up.

She saw my face.

I had not hidden it fast enough.

She said something to Soleil and crossed the room to me. The black dress moved around her knees. Her gray eyes were on mine.

"Julian. What happened?"

I looked at her.

The woman I had been kissing five minutes ago. The woman Conrad had looked at when he said personal.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

She did not believe me. I could see that she did not believe me. She had her chin up, the half-inch she lifted it when she did not want to be lied to, and her gray eyes were on mine and waiting.

I smiled.