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a runner for him. It was very lucrative. Not to mention educational.”
    Melanie laughed in astonishment. “You just confessed a federal crime to me.”
    â€œYes, but you can’t touch me, darling. My uncle’s dead and the statute ran a long time ago.”
    â€œYou had that all figured out, didn’t you?”
    â€œOf course. Otherwise, I’d never confess to a barracuda like you.”
    â€œI’ll take that as a compliment.”
    â€œI meant it as one.”
    A silence fell. Melanie glanced down at her food, feeling suddenly shy. The waiter came to clear their plates away.
    â€œSo, I take it from how very articulate you are in English that it’s your first language?” Lester said after a moment.
    â€œI’m a New Yorker, born and bred. My father was originally from Puerto Rico. He came here as a child, but I’ve barely ever been there.”
    â€œI’m disappointed,” he said in a joking tone. “I love Spanish. I’m taking a conversation course at the Spanish Institute.”
    â€œOh, I speak Spanish.”
    â€œYou do? Say something for me.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œIn Spanish. Go ahead, let me hear you speak it. I can only imagine how much better it’ll sound coming from your lips.”
    â€œTu me matas,” Melanie said, laughing.
    â€œTu me matas . You kill me, right?”
    â€œYes, very good.”
    â€œTu me matas,” he repeated. “I like that.”
    The waiter arrived with their next course: oyster tapioca in paperthin china bowls topped with tiny grains of caviar that glistened like onyx. Melanie stole a glance at Lester as he listened to the waiter’s description. He had an amazing face—strong, intelligent, noble even. She was surprising herself by feeling drawn to this man, by flirting with him. She was divorced, but she wasn’t single. Should she tell Lester that she was involved with someone? But how presumptuous; this was supposed to be a business dinner. It just didn’t feel like one.
    â€œSo, enlighten me. What’s this dinner about, anyway?” she asked, after the waiter left.
    â€œIt’s about your future. About whether you’ll come to work for me.”
    â€œI already told you, I can’t do that.”
    â€œI thought I could change your mind.”
    â€œBecause you’re so persuasive.”
    â€œI’ve been known to be. The fact is, it would be a great opportunity for you. The cases are fascinating, and the money’s—” He waved his hand at the room. “Look around. I don’t know about you, butgrowing up poor like I did, I care about coming to places like this. About nice vacations. The Caribbean in winter, the Hamptons in summer. Even if you’re not a materialist, even if those things really don’t matter to you, I think you’ll find that freedom from worrying about money is a luxury in itself. You can’t know how good it feels until you experience it.”
    â€œI’m not rich, but I’m not starving, either. Changing jobs, well—I wouldn’t do it for money alone. I go to work every morning and I’m where I belong. Everywhere else, I’m an outsider. That feeling of belonging—I couldn’t give it up.”
    â€œYou’d belong working the defense side, too. It’s the same work from a different angle. Representing the individual against the power of the state. David against Goliath. There’s beauty in that.”
    â€œBeauty maybe, but no truth. All the clients are guilty.”
    â€œMost are. But some are guilty of less than what they’re charged with. And a precious few are innocent.”
    â€œSo that’s what motivates you?” she asked. “The innocent few?”
    Lester grinned. “Me? No. I just like to win.”
    She laughed. Their eyes held. She studied the lines around his, the snow white of his hair. They didn’t make him any less