“After what they tried to do to you, Shay,” Mark was saying. “Well, what am I saying? What they actually did—you spent two months in jail, after all—your civil suit against that company is going to be epic.”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about that.”

“I’d be happy to represent you. Believe me.”

I gave him a look. “But of course you couldn’t.”

“Why not?” He spread his arms wide and boastful. “I can handle more than shareholder litigation, you know.”

“But you represent the shareholders of CDMI. Whose stock value would take a serious dive if I got a big damages award against the company.”

After a beat of silence, he shrugged. “Right.”

“It must be hard to remember who your clients are,” I said. “When they’re only names on a roster.”

He bristled a bit at the dig. “That’s not true. I’m always acting in their best interests. That’s why I filed the Palmer suit. Management’s been feeding at the shareholders’ trough for too many years. I want to bring them down, Shay. I want to destroy every last motherfucking one of them.”

“You’re not supposed to discuss that with me,” I reminded him. Something was hissing in the kitchen, and another aroma wafted out. The sweet, pungent smell of garlic.

“We could do it. You and me together.”

I didn’t answer that time. He pulled a sad mouth to show he understood, then changed the subject. “How are you coming on Northstar?”

“I deposed Nelson Ledbetter today.”

He cocked his head. “Remind me?”

“CEO.”

“Oh, right. Get anything out of him?”

I shook my head. “It was the same as all the other Northstar executives. He never discussed Bartman with anyone at Harrington or anyone inside Northstar. He never met anyone at Bartman’s firm. He never discussed with anyone the idea of shopping among potential class counsel for the cheapest settlement. He was appalled at the very notion.”

Mark shrugged. “Well, who knows? Maybe it never happened.” He grinned. “I might have to win class counsel purely on my merits.”

“Let’s not give in yet!” I laughed. “I still have some ideas percolating.”

“I knew you would. Hey, how about we take this upstairs?”

I hadn’t dressed for the outdoors, but he tossed me a suede bomber jacket to put on. He stayed as he was, down to the bare feet. “Kevin, we’ll be upstairs,” he shouted on our way out.

“You’re entertaining tonight?” I asked as we climbed the narrow stairs to the rooftop garden.

“Well, you told me you’d be out.” He pretended to be sorrowful. “So I had to find somebody else to fill my lonely night.”

Up on the roof, the lights of the city glowed around us like a forest of fireflies. Mark pushed a button on the gas fireplace beside the dining table, and the flames flickered on. I took the chair nearest to the fire, and Mark pulled his in close beside mine. Close enough that I could feel his arm press against mine through the suede sleeve of his jacket.