The Strategist Read Online Free PDF Page A

there’s anything wrong with having nice things. I work hard for my money and I enjoy spending it. But I also know how to keep life in perspective. I’m not one of these assholes who lives and breathes for money. Look around my firm and you’ll realize within five minutes that I’m in the clear minority. It’s almost criminal how shallow they are.”
    “If it’s that bad why don’t you do something else? Wasn’t the plan to go to law school to be a prosecutor? There’s always a market for that.”
    “That was the plan if I stayed ay CU. Unfortunately I got accepted into Yale, which made my track very narrow.”
    “Just because you have a big student loan bill to pay back doesn’t mean you have to be miserable doing it. You have a lot of options.”
    “I don’t have nearly as many as you think.”
    “Okay, now you’re getting all cryptic on me. I’m not a fan of cryptic.”
    Julia’s posture became rigid and tension hardened her soft features. “What can I say, Cam? I hate my job.”
    Camille was quiet as she studied Julia’s face. Eyes that were bright and curious minutes earlier had now become strained with worry.
    “Are you sure that’s all it is?”
    Julia shifted in her seat. “It’s not like I’d be the first person in the world to despise what they do for a living. What else would it have to be?”
    “Did you suddenly forget who you’re talking to?”
    “The woman who knows me better than I know myself? How could I possibly forget?”
    “Be sarcastic if you want to, but you know it’s true. Remember, I once made a living out of reading people. Most of the time they didn’t have to say two words to me before I knew exactly what they were thinking. And that was after knowing most of them for no more than five minutes. Imagine what I can do with you.”
    “Okay, so what are your finely-tuned instincts telling you right now?”
    “That you’re holding out on me. I don’t know if it has to do with your job, the assholes you work with, or something more personal. I just know there’s something else going on and for whatever reason you’re not talking.”
    Julia looked at Camille with damp eyes. “The FBI’s loss truly is my gain.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “It means that they’ll be hard-pressed to find someone as talented at reading people as you.”
    “In other words my instincts are right.”
    Julia sighed. “We’ll talk about it.”
    “When?”
    “Soon. For now, let me just enjoy having you home.”
    Camille sat back in her seat, willing to let the subject go for the time being. “Okay. But don’t think you’re going to get away without it coming up again.”
    “I know you entirely too well to think otherwise.”
    They spent the next few moments in silence. Julia directed her focus back to the water-soaked road while Camille stared out her window. Now instead of empty green space, she saw empty industrial space. But at least she sensed the makings of civilization.
    In less than a mile they would be off the highway and into the northeast section of the city that Camille had called home her entire life. Surreal didn’t come close to capturing what it felt like to be this close after being away for so long.
    Before she reached her father’s house, she would pass one landmark of her former life after another: her elementary school, the Catholic church she was baptized in, the park she and her mother used to run through on the days when the chemo treatments weren’t so bad.
    But she wondered if those landmarks would still have any of the meaning that they once did. She wondered if too much time had passed and too many connections had faded. She wondered if she really could go home again. And if she could, would it ever truly feel like home?
    “Is it finally starting to sink in?” Julia asked as they passed the precinct house that Camille’s father worked in for most of his career.
    “A little bit.”
    When they made the turn onto her father’s street and Camille