Connor set his notepad down on a sticky spot, noticed it, and then moved it to another sticky spot. None of this dampened his zeal.

The other attorneys looked at him expectantly … And as Connor looked at them, he felt a surge of pride welling up in him. This was a crackerjack team. They knew the law, they knew what justice ought to be, and as each of them had slept with pretty much all the others, they knew one another. They were going to craft the future. With their own hands they would craft it. They would build a tower to the heavens. It would be totally great.

–Ride, Sally, Ride, by Douglas Wilson, p. 34