nuts. So maybe there were some unresolved questions about Eldon LaSalle, so what? How much did you ever know about any client? And you’re a lawyer, right? You get hired, even by people with terrible ideas. So maybe you can be the lawyer who arranges things so those ideas don’t turn into action. Maybe you can actually do some good for once.
Traffic was heavy through the Cahuenga Pass and past Hollywood, but Steve managed to get to Sienna’s apartment a little before six.
She was waiting outside, talking on her cell phone. She saw him and gestured she’d be just a moment.
Giving Steve time to appreciate her all over again. He knew he was on major rebound. He knew he was doing this to cover the pain of the breakup with Ashley. And he knew he didn’t care.
39
“Anything to drink?” Steve said.
“Pepsi,” Sienna said.
“That’s a switch.”
“I live dangerously.”
They were seated in a booth at Bistro Michel, always Steve’s secret weapon. Whenever he needed some credits in Ashley’s ledger, he brought her here.
When the waiter, one of the old-world gentleman types, arrived, Steve closed the wine list. “Two of your finest colas, my good man. A ’98 Pepsi if you have it.”
The waiter cleared his throat and left.
“Tough room,” I said.
“Maybe comedy is not your line,” Sienna said.
Steve wanted to stab himself with the butter knife. Instead, he said, “So what kind of law do you want to practice?”
“I’m not really sure. What’s it like being a solo?”
“Not easy. You have scramble. You have to market yourself. And you have to stay off drugs. Think you can stay off drugs?”
She smiled. “I’ll try real hard.”
“The why don’t you help me take on the feds?”
“How?”
“Maybe you can help me with a 1983 action.” Section 1983 of the United States Code was the statute authorizing civil rights cases against federal officials.
“On what basis?” Sienna said. “They have immunity.”
“Qualified immunity,” Steve corrected. “Your job would be to find a way around that.”
“You have any idea how?”
His cell vibrated. He checked the number. “I have to take this,” he said to Sienna, then flipped it open.
It was Norm Gaylord.
“Okay, I got it,” Norm said.
“Hang on.” Steve took a pen and scrap of paper from his coat pocket. “Give it to me.”
Norm read off an address in Tehachapi. “So is that it? I’m free of you, right?”
“As if you really want to be,” Steve said.
“I really want to be.”
“If it checks out, then yeah.”
“And what if it doesn’t?”
“I know what Starbucks you like. Thanks.”
Steve clicked off. “Sorry. Where were we?”
“Feds?”
“Right. I have an issue for you to research. Suppose I found out something about Eldon LaSalle that’s criminal? Do I have to cooperate with the authorities?”
She thought a moment. “What about lawyer-client confidentiality?”
“You tell me, law student. Pretend this is the bar exam.”
“Please, I don’t need that stress just yet.”
“What would you say?”
She paused. “Attorney-client privilege. What is told to you in your capacity as a lawyer is protected.”
“Unless it refers to a crime yet to be committed.”
Sienna nodded thoughtfully. “That would be correct, but I believe you would have to show knowledge of actual intent.”
“I can’t remember,” Steve said. “I’m a criminal defense lawyer. It’s been so long since I’ve thought about ethics.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“And that,” Steve said, “is about the nicest thing anybody’s said about me in a long time.”
Sienna had duck. She’d never had duck before, and the waiter insisted she try it. Steve had the old reliable New York steak. When in doubt, go for the cow.
“It’s very good,” Sienna said. “But I feel like I’m eating poor Daffy or something. He was my favorite cartoon character growing up.”
“And where was that?” Steve asked.
“I bounced around. My dad was an airline mechanic. Had jobs in Seattle, Detroit, Louisville. That’s where I finished high school.”
“How’d you end up out here?”
“I came out to go to UC Irvine. I was a theater major.”
“No joke? You wanted to be an actress?”
“For a while. I wanted to be the next Julia Roberts, but my lips weren’t full enough.”
“You never heard of collagen?”
“Of course, but then I wasn’t pretty enough, either.”
“I don’t think that’s your problem at all.”
She looked down and stuck her fork in some duck.
Steve said, “After you decided you weren’t going to be Julia Roberts, what did you do?”
“Decided I wanted to be Ashley Judd in High Crimes.”
“Never saw that one.”
“Your basic intelligent female lawyer solving everything.”
Steve nodded. “And then you got married?”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry, I mean your fiancé. The guy you met at church