Read Lemons 03 Stroke of Genius for Free Online

someone.
    Just like the scars, it will never go away. Everyone I allow myself to love eventually just goes away.
    Maybe if I were better with people my problems would lessen. But, I’m just not. My people skills are lacking. I don’t get along with very many folks and I like even less. It amazes me how much I love Elise and my nephews. But,-
    A knock on the door and Elise peaks her head in.
    “Anyway, are we going to get to work on this thing or what?” she asks.
    “Yeah,” I respond. “Just finishing up background checks on the both of them. They’re both clean; both are who they said they are. No arrests or anything. Just a couple of smart nerds who write amazingly awful movies.”
    “Yeah, I bet you and Vince end up being BFF when this thing is over with.”
    “Maybe. Maybe.”
    “What’s with the button-up shirt today? Did you run out of terrible band shirts?”
    “Funny. No. I’ll never run out of those. I just wanted to look presentable at the bank.”
    “When was the last time you wore than thing? It looks a little…snug.”
    “Yeah, I get it. I’m fat.”
    “Those poor buttons look like they’re hanging on for dear life. If one of those things pop it could take out an eye.”
    “Thanks.”
    “God, I’m only kidding around. What’s up your butt today?”
    “Nothing. What’s up yours?”
    “Wow, okay. Let me know when you grow up a bit. I’ll be at my desk.”
    And with that, she walked back out the door, closing it a little more hard than what was required.
    Stupid Elise.
    7.
    A few hours and a couple of phone calls later, I was in possession of the official police report on Balthazar August’s death in Las Vegas. I printed out everything, including the sad pictures of a corpse holding his little wiener. Normally I would laugh at the mere mention of this, but not even photographic proof could make me crack a smile. The last picture this poor bastard had of himself was with his pants down, tongue hanging out, belt around his neck and his pathetic stub of a penis in full sight of everyone. The picture was all the more humiliating because, I knew, once the blood stopped pumping, it all drained out of his penis, leaving something that even a child would laugh at.
    I looked through the rest of the photos. Nothing too interesting. Different angles of the body, various personal effects on his bed and in his suitcase, and everything he had on his person set out on the table near him, which included two five dollar Myra Casino chips and a wallet with his driver’s license, two credit cards, a debit card and eighty five dollars in cash. In his pocket was three quarters and three pennies. On the table at the entrance of the room was a pack of gum, a box of delicious Junior Mints and a napkin left over from the room service they ordered the night before. Like I said, nothing very exciting.
    Elise returned with her lunch. I had decided to skip it today. Apparently, I’m too fat to love.
    She sat down across from me and asked what I’ve got so far. I tossed the stack of papers in her direction. She choked on her sandwich when she saw the top photograph.
    “Oh man, I’ll bet you’ve been having a field day with this one, huh?”
    “No,” I answer. “Not really.”
    She dropped her sandwich down on the desk. “Okay, asshole. What the hell is wrong with you?”
    “Nothing is wrong with me.”
    “Bullshit! I’m not stupid. Am I not allowed to date? Is that part of my job description?”
    “You can do whatever you want.”
    “You’re right. I can. And you can either talk to me about it or you can go whine about it while you’re huddled in the corner like a baby,” she snapped.
    “Fine. Just forget it. Let’s just get to work.”
    “No, I’m not going to forget it. Why don’t you try going out once in a while? It doesn’t have to be with a girl. I know you have friends out there. Max calls you all the time to see if you want to play golf and you shoot him down every time.