the desk, next to a pile of documents from the Capps file. An empty potato-chip bag was between the shoes.
After a dozen rings he moved, then jumped at the phone. It was his wife.
"Why haven't you called?" she asked, coolly, yet with a slight touch of concern.
"I'm sorry. I fell asleep. What time is it?" He rubbed his eyes and focused on his watch.
"Eleven. I wish you would call."
"I did call. No one answered."
"When?"
"Between eight and nine. Where were you?"
She did not answer. She waited. "Are you coming home?"
"No. I need to work all night."
"All night? You can't work all night, Mitch."
"Of course I can work all night. Happens all the time around here. It's expected."
"I expected you home, Mitch. And the least you could've done was call. Dinner is still on the stove."
"I'm sorry. I'm up to my ears in deadlines and I lost track of time. I apologize."
There was silence for a moment as she considered the apology. "Will this become a habit, Mitch?"
"It might."
"I see. When do you think you might be home?"
"Are you scared?"
"No, I'm not scared. I'm going to bed."
"I'll come in around seven for a shower."
"That's nice. If I'm asleep, don't wake me."
She hung up. He looked at the receiver, then put it in place. On the fifth floor a security agent chuckled to himself. "'Don't wake me.' That's good," he said as he pushed a button on the computerized recorder. He punched three buttons and spoke into a small mike. "Hey, Dutch, wake up down there."
Dutch woke up and leaned to the intercom. "Yeah, what is it?"
"This is Marcus upstairs, I think our boy plans to stay all night."
"What's his problem?"
"Right now it's his wife. He forgot to call her and she fixed a real nice supper."
"Aw, that's too bad. We've heard that before, ain't we?"
"Yeah, every rookie does it the first week. Anyway, he told her he ain't coming home till in the morning. So go back to sleep."
Marcus pushed some more buttons and returned to his magazine.
Abby was waiting when the sun peeked between the oak trees. She sipped coffee and held the dog and listened to the quiet sounds of her neighborhood stirring to life. Sleep had been fitful. A hot shower had not eased the fatigue. She wore a white terry-cloth bathrobe, one of his, and nothing else. Her hair was wet and pulled straight back.
A car door slammed and the dog pointed inside the house. She heard him unlock the kitchen door, and moments later the sliding door to the patio opened. He laid his coat on a bench near the door and walked over to her.
"Good morning," he said, then sat down across the wicker table.
She gave him a fake smile. "Good morning to you."
"You're up early," he said in an effort at friendliness. It did not work. She smiled again and sipped her coffee.
He breathed deeply and gazed across the yard. "Still mad about last night, I see."
"Not really. I don't carry a grudge."
"I said I was sorry, and I meant it. I tried to call once."
"You could've called again."
"Please don't divorce me, Abby. I swear it will never happen again. Just don't leave me."
She managed a genuine grin. "You look terrible," she said.
"What's under the robe?"
"Nothing."
"Let's see."
"Why don't you take a nap. You look haggard."
"Thanks. But I've got a nine o'clock meeting with Avery. And a ten o'clock meeting with Avery."
"Are they trying to kill you the first week?"
"Yes, but they can't do it. I'm too much of a man. Let's go take a shower."
"I've taken one."
"Naked?"
"Yes."
"Tell me about it. Tell me every detail."
"If you'd come home at a decent hour you wouldn't feel depraved."
"I'm sure it'll happen again, dear. There will be plenty of all-nighters. You didn't complain in law school when I studied around the clock."
"It was different. I endured law school because I knew it would soon end. But now you're a lawyer and you will be for a long time. Is this part of it? Will you always work a thousand hours a week?"
"Abby, this is my first week."
"That's what worries me. It will only get worse."
"Sure it will. That's part of it, Abby. It's a cutthroat business where the weak are eaten and the strong get rich. It's a marathon. He who endures wins the gold."
"And dies at the finish line."
"I don't believe this. We moved here a week ago, and you're already worried about my health."
She sipped the coffee and rubbed the dog. She was beautiful. With tired eyes,