Grumpy Best Friend

“Tell her I said that,” he said, and turned away. “Talk to Lady about it. I’m tired of coming out here and tired of sending messages. The next message is going to be painful.” He got back into the truck. Jakub lingered, then followed. I moved away as they pulled out and left again.

Hal stood off to the side and squinted after them. “I see why you hired us, sir,” he said. “That guy’s bad fucking news.”

“Thanks for that back there,” I said. “But try not to escalate next time.”

“I’ll see what I can do, sir.” He nodded once and seemed to blend back in with the wall.

I walked off toward the car with Jude on my heels. Nicky was back inside, and the sound of construction resumed—like the whole factory had been on pause while Zeke was here.

“One million,” she said as I leaned up against the driver’s side door and tilted my head back. The glass felt warm beneath my scalp and I watched clouds slide across the mid-afternoon sun.

“I know,” I said. “That might be palatable.”

“What if we asked Fluke about it?”

I glanced at her, surprised, and shrugged. “She might go for it,” I said, trying to look impassive, though inside, my stomach churned with anxiety. I wanted to pay Zeke off and be done with this, but I knew that the money wouldn’t be enough. As soon as he got a taste of cash, he’d only want more and more and more.

It was like feeding a tiger. Sooner or later, you get your hand ripped off.

“You know I don’t want to pay him,” she said, sounding pissed off, and slumped up next to me against the car. “But I’m afraid it’s our best option. I have interviews to do over the next few days, and if those assholes are going to be hanging around—” She stopped herself and sucked in a breath. “I don’t know what to do.”

I put a hand on her arm, then slid it down and touched her wrist. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, but she didn’t pull away. I took her hand in mine and she let me hold it tight while we stood in silence. Her fingers and palm felt warm and sweaty, and I wanted to try and take some of her fear and pain away, but I didn’t think I could.

Instead, I stood with her, until she let out a low breath and leaned her head against my shoulder.

“Fuck this, you know?” she asked, and I laughed. She grinned up at me, and we laughed together, a stupid laugh, the sort of laugh you did in the face of impossible odds, when nothing was funny, but the laughter was a release anyway.

“Let me take you out to dinner,” I said.

“What do you mean?” she asked, but didn’t move her head from my shoulder. I wanted to wrap my arm around her shoulders but I was afraid that would be going too far.

“You know, dinner? We sit inside at a table and eat a meal together? We did lunch, now I’m proposing dinner.”

“So like a date,” she said. “You want to take me on a date.”

“No, I want to take a work colleague out to dinner so we can discuss what we’re going to do moving forward with this project.”

She laughed and moved away enough to turn her chin in my direction. I stared at her lips, at the curve of her throat, and wondered how much she still despised me, or if she’d let me kiss her again.

“Okay,” she said. “I can do dinner. But it’s not a date.”

“Work colleagues,” I said. “That’s all.”

“Good.” She moved away and I felt her fingers like a ghost on my palm. “I guess work colleagues shouldn’t hold hands outside of their factory, right?”

“I don’t think there are any hard and fast rules.”

She laughed again and it felt good, watching her smile. She got into the passenger’s side of my truck, and I climbed behind the wheel, and we drove back to the office together, not talking much, as she looked out the window and watched the city flash past.

14

Jude

Bret parked in a quiet street in Northern Liberties, not too far from the Piazza. At night, this area became a haven for young people, and bikes were everywhere—guys in cut-off shorts and helmets zipped around corners, past girls in short dresses and chic hair dyed black and cut into sleek modern lines around their gaunt cheekbones. Young families were mixed in with the group, and dads pushed strollers in their tight jeans and band t-shirts trying to regain some shred of their youth while their kids laughed and cried and shouted random nonsense.

I loved the city on a nice night like this. I loved the people, the crowds, and watching how everyone interacted with each other, some old guys on a nearby stoop laughing at the youths, some young guys sitting outside of a bar laughing loudly at each other, and it was a swirl of excitement that I could drop right into and get lost inside.