Con Law by Mark Gimenez Page B

national movie of Texas. On the screen, Jett Rink, the ranch hand turned oil tycoon played by James Dean, had just struck oil on the small tract of land he had inherited from Luz Benedict. He drove straight to the Reata ranch house and sucker-punched his former employer, Bick Benedict, the cattle baron played by Rock Hudson.
    ‘He’s gorgeous,’ Nadine said. ‘And gay.’
    ‘Jett Rink?’
    ‘James Dean.’
    ‘He died a few weeks after they finished shooting the movie here. He was driving fast, heading to a road race in southern California in his Porsche, truck pulled out in front of him, he couldn’t stop in time. He was only twenty-four. Lived fast and died young. Never saw the movie, but he was nominated for an Oscar. He made only three films:
Giant
,
East of Eden
, and
Rebel Without a Cause
.’
    Nadine’s eyes turned up from the screen to Book. ‘So, what, you’re trying to be another James Dean?’
    ‘I’m not gay.’
    ‘A rebel without a cause … except you’re a rebel with too many causes.’
    Jett’s Grill fronts the courtyard just off the hotel lobby. It’s a civilized place with cloth tablecloths, a pink-and-green tile floor, and a wait staff dressed in black. Book ordered tilapia tacos and iced tea. Nadine ordered the
Giant
cheeseburger—one-half pound of Black Angus beef—Parmesan fries, a root beer, and coffee and a chocolate brownie for dessert.
    ‘Ms. Honeywell, would you like a stick of butter with that?’
    ‘No.’
    She looked up at the waitress, a young woman with a rose tattoo on her ample bosom. She was an artist; waiting tables was her day job.
    ‘I want ice cream. Vanilla.’
    ‘You know what you’re putting inside yourself?’
    ‘Better than a man.’
    ‘Amen,’ the waitress said.She winked at Nadine then left with their orders.
    His intern had cleaned up and pulled her hair back in a ponytail. Her face was innocent and unadorned. She dug in her canvas bag and pulled out a sanitary wipe packet; she tore open the packet, removed the wipe, and proceeded to rub down the salt and pepper shakers, the silverware—she reached for his, but he moved them away—and her water glass.
    ‘You can’t be too careful,’ she said.
    ‘I don’t know. Maybe you can.’
    She again reached into her bag and came out with the Purell hand sanitizer. She squirted the gel into her palm and rubbed her hands as if she were a doctor prepping for surgery. Their table now smelled like a hospital.
    ‘You like that stuff?’ Book said.
    ‘Purell is pretty good. Sixty-two percent ethyl alcohol content. Germ-X has sixty-five percent. My favorite is Outlast. It has seventy percent ethyl alcohol, it kills ninety-nine-point-ninety-nine percent of germs, and it lasts six hours. But it’s kind of hard on my skin.’
    ‘You don’t get out much, do you?’
    ‘The world is full of dangerous germs.’
    ‘Life is dangerous.’
    ‘It was for Nathan.’
    Nathan Jones was dead at twenty-nine. He had been Book’s intern at twenty-five. For one month. Until that first letter had arrived in the mail. And they had gone to South Texas.
    ‘Was it dangerous for Renée?’
    ‘I guess she thought it was. But I always protected her.’
    She sat silent for a moment then said, ‘You’re right.’
    ‘About what?’
    ‘I don’t get out much.’
    ‘You will as my intern.’
    Nadine contemplated her sanitized hands.
    ‘Professor …’
    She turned to him; she was that thirteen-year-old kid again.
    ‘… canyou protect me?’
    ‘Yes, Ms. Honeywell, I can. And I will.’
    ‘Nothing personal, but you’re a law professor. And it’s a harsh world.’
    ‘I have skills.’
    She regarded him a moment then finished rubbing her hands. She offered the sanitizer to Book.
    ‘I washed upstairs.’
    The waitress returned. She placed their drinks on the table then handed a card to Nadine.
    ‘Text me.’
    She winked again then walked away.
    ‘I attract lesbians,’ Nadine said. ‘And no, I’m not.’
    Book emptied a