Read The Amateurs for Free Online Page B

play.”
    “All right, all right. Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
    “You have a buyer lined up?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Not someone you want to disappoint, I’m guessing.”
    “Not so much, no. So I can count on you, right, kid?”
    “Anybody tell you that whole ‘kid’ thing is kind of annoying?”
    “Most people are too smart to take that tone.”
    “You find someone else who can get you this, you can tell me to walk. Till then, I take any tone I like. Another thing. Tuesday. It’s not going to be me.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “It won’t be me comes in to see you. I’m sending someone.”
    “Are you shitting me?”
    “Nope.”
    “Who?”
    “Crooch.”
    A laugh. “Jesus. Anything to avoid a little dirty work yourself, huh? You must really have that pasty-faced loser twisted around your finger. What did you catch him doing?”
    “Everybody sins, Johnny. I’m just there to see it. So we OK? You’re fine with Crooch?”
    “Kid, so long as he brought what you’re selling, I’d be fine if it was Big Bird squeezed his feathery butt through my door.”
    “Glad to hear it. Let’s keep everything simple. A nice, clean deal.”
    “You deliver, I deliver.”
    “Fair enough. Have a happy fucking weekend.”
     
     
    AFTER ALEX DROPPED CASSIE OFF, as he was battling traffic eastward and holding off the mood as best he could, his cell phone rang. He checked the screen. Trish. No way he wanted to talk to her now. Instead he leaned back in the seat and sucked deep on the emotions that had been waiting for him, a cocktail he drank often: two parts rage to one part aching frustration, flavored with a dash of self-pity. Damn her for talking about him that way in front of Cassie. And damn her for her snide attacks about the child support. Sure, over the years he’d missed a couple of payments. But he was doing the best he could.
    Still, he couldn’t find it in him to hate her. He knew her too well. She wasn’t cruel; she was just practical in a relentless sort of way. All about the end result. They’d split up in part because she didn’t want to be married to a bartender. She was young, had her looks and her brains, and though Cassie limited the dating options, for a certain type of guy—the kind who had worked harder than he meant to for fifteen years, then looked up and realized his life was empty—a kid was actually a bonus. Insta-family, just add wedding ring and mortgage payments.
    Of course, now there wasn’t much room for an ex-husband. Especially one who still tended bar.
    The joyless irony of it all was that he had to go to work even now. Right now, in fact. He stewed for the rest of the commute, then swallowed his cocktail like a man and went inside.
    At this hour, Rossi’s had that hollowed-out look, like a house where the owners were on vacation. The hostess stand was empty, and servers were rolling napkins in the dining room. He walked past to the bar. His kingdom. Jesus. The thought made him wonder if he remembered how to tie a noose. An early shift bartender was setting out bottles. He nodded at Alex, said, “Johnny wants you.”
    “What for?”
    “Didn’t say. Just wanted you to come back to his office when you got in.”
    “He’s here? At three o’clock?”
    “Will wonders never, right?”
    Alex nodded, reached around the tap for a glass, filled it with Diet Coke, then went to the back room. He paused to check the kegs—he’d been easing a few better beers into rotation, a couple of taps of Lagunitas and Victory, good American craft beers to add to the usual crap that people drank—then noticed that the back door to the alley was unlocked yet again. The kitchen staff went out back to smoke and never locked it. He threw the bolt, went to the office door, and stepped inside.
    Johnny Love sat behind the desk, facing away. He whirled at the sound of the door opening. “What the fuck?”
    “Ahh—” Alex hesitated. “You wanted to see me?”
    “Don’t you knock?” He