"Play any air guitar?" "Of course not," she said.

"I'm a professional journalist, for God's sake."

"Uh- huh. So how nervous are you?"

"I feel pretty calm actually," she replied.

"Liar."

"All right, I'm scared out of my mind. Happy?"

"Ecstatic," he replied.

"But remember one thing."

"What?"

"You're always scared before you go on the air. The more scared you are, the more you kick ass."

"You think so?"

"I know so," he said.

"This poor guy will never know what hit him."

"Really?" she asked, her face beginning to beam.

"Yeah, really," he said.

"Now let me ask you a quick question:

do we have to go to your father's gala tonight?"

"Let me give you a quick answer: yes." "Black tie?" Michael asked.

"Another yes."

"These big stuffy affairs can be so boring."

"Tell me about it." He paused.

"Can I at least have my way with you during the party?"

"Who knows?" Sara answered.

"You may get lucky." She cradled the phone between her neck and shoulder for a moment.

"Is Harvey coming to the party tonight?"

"I'm going to pick him up on my way."

"Good. I know he doesn't get along with my father "

"You mean your father doesn't get along with him," Michael corrected.

"Whatever. Will you talk to him tonight?"

"About what?"

"Don't play games with me, Michael," she said.

"I'm worried about your health."

"Listen, with Bruce's death and all the problems at the clinic, Harv has enough on his mind right now. I don't want to bother him."

"Has he spoken to you yet about Bruce's suicide?" Sara asked.

"Not a word," Michael said.

"To be honest, I'm kind of worried about him. He never leaves the lab anymore. He works all day and night."

"Harvey has always been that way."

"I know, but it's different this time."