“Oh. So you want my money?”
“Well, yeah, but I want you too. I like how you think things through all the time. We made a good team back in Afghanistan.”
I took a deep breath and shook my head. “It’s not for me. Not now.”
He stared into my eyes, his brow furrowed. “Will you at least think about it?” he said. “I’ll write up an official proposal with all the terms and details.”
“You can do that, but I’m still not interested.”
“Before you even know the details? That doesn’t sound like the Warren I remember.”
“Well, we all change. At least some of us do.”
“Harsh, but fair.”
The waitress returned with our coffee. I took a sip while glancing out the window. Several people passed by, wrapped up in their own worlds, oblivious to anything else.
I finished my coffee as quickly as possible, ready to leave. If Rose called, I didn’t want to be anywhere near Melvin or his crazy plans, legit or not. The mystery of the night before replayed in my mind, and I tuned Melvin out as he rambled on.
After I drank the last of the bitter brew, I slid the cup to the center of the table and stood. “I’m leaving. You can email me the information, but I’m probably not going to change my mind.”
“At least read the shit, bro. You can do that for me, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll read it. Thanks for the coffee.”
“Still a cheap bastard, huh?” He laughed.
I turned and walked out the door, already lost in my own thoughts. The image of Rose’s face when I first slid into her flashed through my mind as I walked home, trying to decide what to do next.
CHAPTER 16
Warren
When I got back to my apartment, I called Ryan, my old Afghanistan bunkmate. He had moved back to New York too, but we hadn’t talked in almost a year. With everyone else from Afghanistan coming back into my life, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to search him out too. Maybe he had the answers I sought.
“Hey, Warren. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, I’ve been laying low since I got out.”
“I hear you. What’s up?”
“Want to grab a beer? I’ve got some stuff I want to talk out.”
“Oh no,” he said, chuckling. “More of your crazy theories on the origin of the universe or why oranges are the perfect fruit?”
I smiled. “You remember all that shit?”
“Dude, we spent so many hours together. Your stories and monologues kept me going.”
“Glad I accomplished something over there. Let’s grab a beer tonight.”
“I had some plans, but I’ll change them. Where do you want to meet?”
“Let’s go to that joint down Seventy-Fifth Street. What’s it called?”
“The Irish Paddler?”
“Yeah, that’s it. We met there before we shipped out, remember?”