“When’s the funeral?” Cate asked, breaking the spell, and Micah dropped her Kleenex into the wastebasket beside the desk.
“Saturday, in L.A.”
“You get to go on the company jet?” Cate was guessing they had one.
“Uh, no, I’m not going. Erika wants to keep it small, I heard, so it’s only immediate family. I can understand her not wanting to turn it into a big Hollywood funeral. That’s so lame when people do that.”
“Now what happens, for you?”
“It’s a one-woman office, and the show must go on, of course.” Micah nodded sadly. “It won’t run as well as before, but there’s a guy in L.A. who’s going to executive-produce.”
“What is it you do exactly, for the show?” Cate tried to sound friendly.
“Everything and anything, really. There’s lots of little things that have to be done here, even though most of the show is filmed in L.A. Like one time, Art called me in a total panic.” Micah smiled sadly. “I had to FedEx ten cheesesteaks to him from Pat’s and Geno’s, so the characters could talk about whether they liked Pat’s or Geno’s better.”
Cate faked a laugh. “So you’re the Philly expert, huh?”
“Yes. I went to Girls’ High, in the city, and then Drexel. I’m not one of those suburban posers.”
“So anything he needs in Philly, you make sure he gets. If he needs somebody followed, do you do that, too?”
Micah’s smile faded.
“Like me, for example? Are you the one who followed me? Or should I sue someone else?”
Micah blinked, her long eyelashes still wet. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.” Cate shoved a hand into her purse, pulled out the folded chronology, and held it up high. “Recognize this? A professional detective didn’t do it, and you’re the only employee here.” Cate slipped the paper back into her purse. “Was Simone making a new TV show, called
“I’m just a production assistant, Judge.”
“But you know what I’m talking about.”
Micah didn’t reply, suddenly looking out the window, at the view of brick nothing.
“You followed me, right? You took notes on me. Dates. Times. Men. You even took pictures from a car.”
Micah puckered her pretty lips. “How do you know this?”
“Just answer me. Did you do it?”
“I don’t have to answer you. I have rights. You have to go.” Micah strode to the door, but Cate stood rooted.
“You gonna throw yourself out? Because I’m not leaving.”
“You’re trespassing. You have to. I’m asking you to leave.”
“Make me. Call the cops. Right now.” Cate gestured at the tiny cell phone on the desk. “Let’s ask them if it’s okay to stalk a federal judge.”
“The legal department said it was legal.”
“Hence the name, but don’t argue with a judge. Am I right or am I wrong on you? Listen, I’ll make you a deal. Tell me what I need to know, and I won’t sue you. How’s that?”
“You can’t sue. Legal said.” Micah frowned like a small child, and Cate almost laughed.
“I can always sue. Didn’t your lawsuit with Marz teach you that? Didn’t he make your life miserable? Taking your time, costing Simone a fortune?”
Micah began listening, her eyes widening.
“Can you afford to be sued? What do you have, at your age? What are you, thirty?”
“Twenty-nine.”
“So what, an apartment in Center City? A white Saturn with two years of payments? What do you have? Because legal fees will take it all from you. And that’s if you
Micah paused, walked back into the office, and sank into the Aeron chair opposite the desk.
“Good call,” Cate said, crossing her arms.
CHAPTER 19
“So, how did it come about, you following me?” Cate asked. “How did Simone even know about me? I didn’t meet him until trial.”
“How do I know you’ll keep the deal? Will you put it in writing?”
“I give you my word.” Cate ignored the irony. The girl had learned her lessons from Simone. “Now, how did Simone know about me?”
“You have to promise not to tell anyone you heard it from me, too. I need this job.”
“I promise. By the way, you’re not telling me anything I won’t find out in discovery.”
“Okay,” Micah said reluctantly. “When you first got the case, you held a meeting or something with our lawyer, George Hartford. Some kind of meeting in your office.”
“I had a pretrial conference with both counsel, it’s standard.”
“Whatever.” Micah brushed a dark tendril from her eye, recovering her composure. “After the meeting, George told Art about you. He said you had star quality, which is like a nineteen-fifties term for ‘hot,’ I think. Art had been thinking about expanding the franchise, so he asked me to see if George was right. I went and watched you in court, and we took it from there.”
Cate felt her teeth clench. “You began to follow me.”
“I had to. He told me to. It was my job.”
“You invaded my privacy.”
“I didn’t…think of it that way.”
“How could you not?”
“You were in public, it wasn’t hidden.”
“Just because something happens in public doesn’t mean it’s not private. You remember when the
Micah looked blank, and Cate realized she must have been in diapers at the time.
“How about the moment of someone’s death? You wanna see that, even if it happens on a street? Or when you weep, at Simone’s funeral? Is that public or private? Or when you get married? Or hear someone say I love you, for the first time?” Cate heard herself getting worked up. “The location doesn’t make something public or private. Your heart does.”
“It was research.”
“No, it was my life,” Cate shot back. “And you found out stuff you didn’t need to know, which is now going to be in a TV show. All over TV screens, a new franchise for the
“The show isn’t about you. It’s fictional.”
“Me, fictionalized.” Cate raked her fingers through her hair, loose to her shoulders today. “And they’re going to make this show, even though Simone is gone?”
“Yes. Matt Gaone was hired to exec-produce, from L.A.”
Cate made a mental note. “When does production start?”
“It’s in production already. It started two months ago. December.”
Cate didn’t get something. “Then why did you keep following me? You were following me up to last week.”
“I didn’t know they’d started.”
“Will you be the production assistant on the new show?”
“Yes, I’m the Philly girl. More job, same pay.” Resentment edged her tone, but Cate had her own problems.
