Genuine Lies

directed with a whip and a chain. I’ve never known anyone to use less finesse and get more results. I thought I hated him—did, actually, throughout the movie. But when McCarthy and his slimeball committee went after him, I was outraged. That was the main reason I joined Bogie and Betty and the others in their trip to Washington. I’ve never had any patience with politicking, but, by Christ, I was ready to fight tooth and nail then. Maybe we did some good, maybe not, but we had our say. That’s what counts, isn’t it, Julia? Making sure you’re heard goddamn loud and goddamn clear. I don’t want to be remembered as someone who sat on the sidelines and let other people clear the way.”
    “She won’t be,” Julia murmured.
    Paul turned from his desk. He’d been listening so intently, he almost expected to see Eve sitting there, telling him to light her cigarette or open a bottle.
    “No, she won’t.” He switched off the tape to study Julia. In the past week, she’d rarely let him see that pale, haunted look. It was there, always there, just beneath the mask of control. But whenever that mask began to crack, she closed in on herself and away from him. “Sit down, Julia.”
    “I was going to make some coffee.”
    “Sit down,” he repeated. She did, but on the edge of the chair, as if she would spring up any moment if he got too close. “I got a subpoena today. I’m going to have to testify at the hearing tomorrow.”
    She didn’t look at him, but focused on a point somewhere between them. “I see. Well, that isn’t unexpected.”
    “It’s going to be rough on both of us.”
    “I know. I’m sorry. Actually, I was thinking, as I was coming back this afternoon, that it might be best, easier, if I moved to a hotel—until this is all over. My living here is giving the press a lot of ammunition, and only adding more strain to an already impossible situation.”
    “That’s bullshit.”
    “That’s fact.” She rose, hoping for a grateful exit. She should have known better. He only stood and blocked her way.
    “Just try it.” Eyes narrowed and dangerous, he wrapped his hands around her lapels and yanked her forward. “You’re here for the long haul.”
    “Did it ever occur to you that I might want to be alone?”
    “Yeah, it occurred to me. But I’m part of your life, and you can’t shut me out.”
    “I may not have a life,” she shouted. “If they bind me over for trial tomorrow—”
    “You’ll deal with it. We’ll deal with it. You’re going to trust me, goddamn you. I’m not a ten-year-old boy you have to protect. And I’m sure as hell not some spineless prick who’ll let you carry the whole load while I run off to my own tidy life.”
    Her eyes went to smoke. “This has nothing to do with Lincoln.”
    “The hell it doesn’t. And don’t ever compare us in that sharp little brain of yours again.”
    Her face wasn’t pale now, nor was her breath even. The flash of temper meant more to him than a dozen words of love. “Let go of me.”
    He lifted a brow, knowing the gesture was derisive. “Sure.” He released her, stuffed his hands into his pockets.
    “This has nothing to do with Lincoln,” she said again. “And it has nothing to do with you. It’s me. Get that through your surplus of testosterone. I’m the one whose life is on the line in that courtroom tomorrow. You can beat your chest and howl all you want, that’s not going to change. I haven’t got that many choices left, Paul, and if I want to walk out of that door, that’s just what I’ll do.”
    “Try it,” he invited her.
    Incensed, she whirled around. He caught her before she’d reached the stairs. “I told you to let me go.”
    “I haven’t finished beating my chest or howling.” Because he was dead sure she’d take a swing at him, he cuffed her hands behind her back. “Hold it. Dammit, Jules.” Faced with a tumble down the stairs, he shoved her back against the wall. “Look at me. Just look. You’re right about choices.” With his free hand he forced her head up. “Do you want to walk away from me?”
    She stared into his eyes and saw that he would let her. Maybe. And if she turned away now from this, from him, she would always regret it. Survivors lived with their mistakes. Hadn’t Eve told her that? But there were some you couldn’t afford to make.
    “No.” She pressed her mouth to his, felt the heat and the strength. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
    “Don’t be sorry.”