Jay and Jude, out for a nice meal while Steve and Bunker held down the fort. Usually lunch, but this time it was dinner, at the Hudson River Club, Jay’s choice a plating of duck breast over greens, and Jude’s a perfectly charred strip steak paired with rosemary potatoes and summer squash. But ritual or not, it was no ordinary meal, because it had been no ordinary day. “Poor bastard,” Jude commented, sawing chunks of his steak off while images of that Wednesday’s main happening spun in his head. He’d heard most of it from Bunker, who’d gotten the lowdown from someone at Braintrust who had been witness to the entire thing. Argument, accident, the whole shebang. Including Jay’s presence, front row and center. “Was it as bad as I heard? The guy’s head split open and brains running out and all?” Jay stabbed greens with his fork and fed them into his mouth. He chewed and said nothing. Jude understood—almost. His buddy hadn’t wanted to talk about the incident all day.
