“It’s a miracle you can pass anything.”

“Truth is, most of our legislation passes by huge majorities. Small wonder, given how long and hard the process is just to get a bill on the floor.”

“Mind if I ask a question? Why isn’t he sitting with you?” Ben tilted his head toward a tall young man, early thirties, with close-cropped brown hair and a blue suit, sitting alone in the corner. “I would think the junior senator from Oklahoma would’ve been the first to offer a few consoling words.”

“Brad Tidwell?” Glancy shrugged. “He’s a Republican. He’s waiting for instructions from his masters. He won’t speak to me until he has permission. He won’t do anything inimical to his own career agenda.”

“Must make it hard to work together.”

“We don’t. Never have. He’s arrogant, contumacious, and jingoistic-exactly what we don’t need in these troubled times. And a major-league whiner. Says he can’t get any good assignments because I’m in the way. Wants to be the senior senator so bad he can taste it. The man is worthless, and I don’t say that just because he’s in the opposing party. He’s set some kind of Senate record for fatuous remarks designed to please special interests. I don’t think he can remember what his personal beliefs were, if he ever had any.”

After the food was served, the three of them finally got down to business. “My chief concern,” Glancy explained, “is that the Republicans will use this as a tool to engineer a putsch.”

“Excuse me?”

“A coup d’état. To put me out of office, maybe even influence the upcoming presidential election.”

“You’re not planning to run, are you?”

“My prospects don’t look quite as good as they once did, huh? But that won’t stop them from slinging charges of ‘typical Democratic immorality’ at whoever does run, and using me as Exhibit A.” He inhaled deeply. “So, can I assume you’ve both seen the video?”

Ben nodded. “Any idea where it came from? Or who leaked it to the press?”

“None. Looks like a setup to me. Someone wants to bring me down. Like Watergate, or Monica Lewinsky. Start with a molehill, then try to make a mountain out of it. Send in your lackeys to bloviate.”

Ben’s face reddened. “To… um… um…”

“Relax, Ben, it’s nothing dirty. It’s a word President Harding used. Means ‘to speak verbosely or windily.’”

“Oh… right. Why didn’t I know that?”

“Because you’ve spent the last decade in the courtroom, not the Senate.”

Christina cut in. “Sir,” she said slowly, carefully measuring her tone. “I… don’t think what I saw in that video can be characterized as a molehill.”

Glancy shrugged. “It was sex between two consenting adults.”

“Was it? What happened… toward the end. Didn’t look to me as if she wanted that at all.”

“Did you see what she was wearing? How she looked at me? Did you hear what she said? She was hot and heavy and raring to go.”

“But-”

“She wanted sex,” Glancy continued. “She consented to sex. And the fact that it may not have been the precise sex act she anticipated does not turn it into a rape case. Consent is consent.”

Christina fell silent.

“ Marshall has already spoken to the DA. They have no intention of pressing any criminal charges.”

Ben jumped in. “So you’re only worried about civil actions.”

“And the political ramifications, yes.”

“Do you think it’s likely that this… Ms. Cooper would bring a charge of sexual harassment against you?”

“She disappeared from the office as soon as the story broke and didn’t show up for work today. We haven’t been able to contact her. Who knows what anyone will do if you wave enough money in their face? Remember Paula Jones? She waited years before she brought her case against Clinton. Why sue all of a sudden? Because a Clinton-hating right-wing organization adventitiously provided funds to cover her legal expenses, that’s why. And the Republicans then used that little indiscretion to try to bring down the president. They appointed an obviously biased ‘independent prosecutor’ who blew over fifty million in taxpayer dollars prying into Clinton’s sex life, and Clinton ended up getting impeached over it. They’ll try the same thing with me-try to turn me into the scandal du jour. Some of the more vulpine members of the current administration are already calling for me to resign, but that isn’t going to happen. I worked too damn hard to get where I am. I’m not going to give it up over this pip-squeak.”

“There’s nothing I can do to prevent someone from filing a suit,” Ben said.

“Yes, but if she does, you can crush it dead before it gets out of hand. I’ve followed your career, Ben. You’re smart, you’re hardworking, and you’ve got credibility. People believe you. That work you did up in Chicago on the Tony Barovick case-absolutely brilliant. And very well covered by the media. You came out smelling like a rose, even though you had a supremely unsympathetic client. How many defense attorneys could’ve pulled that off? I think that case made you the best-known attorney from the state of Oklahoma.”

“And, ironically,” Christina interjected, “the poorest.”

“Anyway, that’s why I want you working for me. If you can defend a violent gay-basher and come out looking good, my case should be a cinch.”

“You can’t be sure of that, Todd. I’m new to this town. I’m not even licensed to practice here.”

“Big deal. We’ll line up some token local counsel and get you admitted pro hac vice. The bottom line is this: if you tell the judges this case is frivolous, they’ll listen, and we can get rid of it before the right-wing nudniks turn it into a political football.”

“The plaintiffs will try to make you out as some sort of sexual predator. The Senate lothario. Anything to back that up?”

“Like what?”

“Prior incidents. In the office or elsewhere.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Todd,” Ben said slowly, “you’re a lawyer. You know how important it is to tell your counselor everything. The good and the bad.”

“Ben, there’s nothing. So what do you think? Will you go to bat for me?”

“I can’t guarantee anything.”

“Sure you can. You can guarantee you’ll do your damnedest. That’s all I can ask of anyone.” His eyes shifted slightly. “And I want you working right beside him, Ms. McCall.”

Christina shifted awkwardly in her seat. “Senator… I’m not sure I should be working on this case. I-”

He held up his hands. “I know. You think I’m a scum bucket. You think I forced that intern to perform a vile sex act against her will. Veronica wasn’t like that. I’d been with her before-she was a poster girl for saying ‘no’ when she meant ‘please God yes.’ But you don’t have to believe me. In fact, I don’t want you to believe me. I think it’ll be good to have a skeptic working with Ben, someone to play devil’s advocate. That could be very valuable when we’re planning our strategy.”

Christina’s head tilted slowly to one side. “If you say so.”

“I know so. I also know that-”

He was interrupted by a burly man, sandy-haired, with a bright tie and a pin-striped suit that was way too flashy for Ben’s taste. He seated himself in the fourth chair at their table without asking. “How’s it hanging, Todd?”

Glancy did not appear particularly pleased or amused to see his visitor. “Oh, fine. Just a day like any other,” he replied, rolling his eyes.

“Todd, we’ve got to talk about the Alaska bill.”

Glancy brought Ben and Christina into the picture. “This is Steve Melanfield of Kodiak Oil. He’s a lobbyist.” He frowned at his new guest. “I didn’t think they allowed lobbyists in here.”

Melanfield grinned. “Just a matter of greasing the right palms.”

Glancy turned back to Ben. “You have to understand that in DC, there’s a certain hierarchy. The president is at the top, of course. Then the Senate majority leader, the Speaker of the House, et cetera, et cetera. And lobbyists fit in… well, somewhere beneath the carnival geeks. You know, the guys who bite the heads off live chickens. There’s no one lower. Except the NRA lobbyists.”