"And what problem would that be, Bert?"

"Mary tells me that the young man in our waiting room is your boyfriend."

I nodded. "He is." Strangely, the ardeur hadn't risen today at all, not a quiver, not a shake. But we'd all been a little concerned about what might happen if it suddenly sprang to life at work. There was nobody at work that I wanted to have sex with, so that meant I needed someone nearby, just in case. Nathaniel was sitting outside in the warm sienna orange waiting room, looking very decorative in one of the brown leather chairs. He was wearing street clothes—black slacks, a violet business shirt that was almost a match to the one he'd worn to the wedding, and black over-the-ankle boots. He'd braided his hair so it looked as professional as ankle-length hair can, and he was reading back issues of some music magazine that he had a subscription to and had fallen behind on reading. He'd brought a messenger bag full of magazines from home and was prepared to wait until I dropped him off at work, or until he was needed, whichever came first.

"Why is your boyfriend out in our waiting room, when you're supposed to be working?"

"I'm dropping him at work later," I said, and my voice was much more neutral than his had managed to be.

"Doesn't he have a car?"

"We only have two cars at the house, and Micah may need the other one if he gets called into work."

Bert did the slow blink, and what little warmth he'd managed to get into his gray eyes faded. "I thought the one in the other room was your boyfriend."

"He is."

"Doesn't that mean that you've broken up with Micah?"

"Your assumption is your problem, Bert."

He gave another long blink and leaned back in his chair, looking puzzled. I'd always puzzled Bert, but just not in the personal department. "Does Micah know you're dating..."

"Nathaniel," I said.

"Nathaniel," Bert said.

"He knows," I said.

He licked his thin lips and tried a different tact. "Would you think it was professional if Charles or Manny brought their wives into sit in our waiting room?"

I shrugged. "Not my business."

He sighed and started rubbing his temples. "Anita, your boyfriend cannot sit out there the entire time you're in the office."

"Why not? "I asked.

"Because if I let you start bringing in people, everybody else will want to, and it would be a mess. It would disrupt business."

I sighed. "I don't think anyone else will be bringing their sweeties to work," I said. "Charles's wife is a full-time registered nurse, she's a little busy, and Rosita hates Manny's job. She wouldn't darken the door. Jamison might bring a girl around, if he thought it would impress her."

He sighed again. "Anita, you're being deliberately difficult about this."

"Me, deliberately difficult, why, Bert, you know me better than that."

He gave a surprised burst of laughter and sat back in his chair and stopped trying to treat me like a client. He looked instantly more comfortable, and less trustworthy. "Why did you bring your new boyfriend to work?"

"None of your business."

"It is, if he's sitting in the waiting room that we all share. It is, if you're going to let him sit in on clients."

"He won't sit in on clients," I said.

"Then he's going to be in our waiting room for how long?"

"A few hours," I said.

"Why?" he asked again.

"I told you, none of your business."

"It is, if you bring him to work, Anita. I may not be the boss anymore, but we're also a democracy. You really think that Jamison won't kick a fuss?"

He had a point. I couldn't think of a lie that came close to explaining it, so I tried for partial truth. "You know that I'm the human servant to Jean-Claude, Master of the City, right?"

He nodded, eyes uncertain, as if this was not the start of the conversation he'd expected.

"Well, there's been an interesting side effect. Trust me when I say that you'll want Nathaniel here if things go wrong."

"How wrong are they going to go?" he asked.

"If I take him into my office, just lock the door and make sure we aren't disturbed. No harm, no foul."

"Why would you need privacy with him? What side effect? Is it dangerous?"

"None of your business. You wouldn't understand even if I told you, and it's only dangerous if I don't have someone with me when it happens."

"When what happens?"

"See first answer," I said.

"If it's going to disrupt the office, then as manager I need to know."

He had a point, but I wasn't sure how to tell him, without telling him. "It won't disrupt anything, if Mary keeps everyone away from the door until we're finished."

"Finished?" he said. "Finished what?"

I looked at him. I tried to make it an eloquent look.

"You don't mean..." he said.

"Mean what?" I asked.

He closed his eyes, opened them, and said, "If I don't want your boyfriend sitting in the waiting room, I sure as hell don't want you fucking him in your office." He sounded outraged, which was rare for Bert.

"I'm hoping it won't come to that," I said.

"Why is this a side effect of being a human servant to the Master of St. Louis?"

It was a good question, but I was so not willing to share that much with Bert. "Just lucky, I guess."

"I would say you're making it up, but if you were going to pull some elaborate joke on me, it wouldn't be this." That one comment proved Bert knew me better than I thought.

"No," I said, "it wouldn't."

"So you've become like a what, a nympho?"

Trust Bert to find just the right thing to say. "Yes, Bert, that's it, I've become a nymphomaniac. I need sex so often that I have to take a lover with me wherever I go now."

His eyes went wide.

"Calm down, boss man, I'm hoping today will be the exception, not the rule."

"What made today different?" he asked.

"You know, Mary told me to report to your office as soon as I hit the door. Before you could have possibly known that I'd brought my boyfriend with me, or worn a black skirt that is shorter than you would like. So you didn't call me in here to discuss my wardrobe or my love life. Why did you want this little meeting?"

"Did anyone ever tell you that you can be very abrupt?"

"Yes, now what's up?"

He sat up straighter, all professional and client-worthy again. "I need you to hear me out before you get upset."

"Wow, Bert, I can hardly wait for the rest of this little talk."

He frowned at me. "I turned the job down, because I knew you wouldn't take it."

"If you turned it down, why are we discussing it?"

"They doubled your consultation fee."

"Bert," I said.

"No," he put a hand up, "I turned it down."

I looked at him and knew my face said clearly, I didn't believe him. "I've never known you to turn down that much, Bert."

"You gave me a list of cases that you wouldn't handle. Since you gave me the list, have I sent anything your way that was on it?"

I thought about it for a second, then shook my head. "No, but you're about to."

"They won't believe me."

"They won't believe what?" I said.

"They insist that if you'd only see them, you'd do what they want. I told them you wouldn't, but they offered fifteen thousand dollars for an hour of your time. Even if you refuse, the money belongs to Animators, Inc."

When I said we worked like a law firm, I meant it. That meant that this money went into the kitty for everybody. The more we made, the more everyone made, though some of us got a higher or lower percentage of our fees. We'd based it on seniority. So my turning down money didn't just hurt me or insult Bert anymore, it affected the bottom line for everybody. Most of those everybodys had families, kids. They'd actually come to me en masse and asked for me to be more flexible on my consulting fees, i.e., take more of them. Manny had a daughter about to enter a very expensive college, and Jamison was paying alimony to three ex-wives. Sob stories, but most of them, except for Larry, had more overhead than I did. So I'd started being nicer about at least talking to people when they offered outrageous sums of money. Sometimes.