“Fuck yeah, I do, boy. Come on in.” Deal sat behind a massive mahogany desk that would have dwarfed any other man, but Daddy liked his meat and potatoes. He had what Jake called dunlap—his belly dun lap over his belt and practically to his knees as he sat in a tortured leather chair.
“Take a seat, take a seat,” Deal waved a pudgy hand at a couple of anemic chairs opposite the desk. Jake knew from their previous meeting that their short legs made the sitter feel small and intimidated, and that the chair on the left wobbled something fierce. He took the one on the right this time and was not surprised when it did the same. He steadied himself by gripping the edge of the desk, noting how the finish was worn off there.
“Sir, I want to apologize for the ruckus downstairs—”
Deal waved off the apology with the same pudgy hand. Jake noticed the shirt cuff had a spot of gravy on it, probably from Betty’s Diner’s perennial biscuits and gravy breakfast special. “Shit, boy, I’ve been meaning to take out that trash for a while, and you did me a favor just now.” Deal chuckled as he interlaced his fingers over his belly. “And you even made it fun to watch. I’ll tell you what though,” he leaned forward and his chair made a tortured squeaking sound as his gut pressed against the desk, “warn me next time you’re gonna go medieval on someone so I can take bets and charge admission.” He leaned back to more chair squealing, threw back his head and howled laughing.
Jake laughed right along with him while he imagined what it would feel like to throttle the bastard. Would pus spew out of his head like a giant zit?
“So long as I get a cut of the profits, sir.”And I can RICO your ass for it, he thought.
Deal’s face turned sour and Jake worried that he’d gone a step too far mentioning profits.
“Cut that ‘sir’ bullshit out right now, I don’t need your nose up my ass. You’re a real man so act like one, not like that heel-licker you just swatted down.”
Jake gave him a chin lift. “Just showing respect like my mama taught me.”
“’Preciate that, but your mama ain’t here. So,” Deal unlaced his fingers and gripped the edge of the desk, “you give any further thought to what we talked about last time you were in here?”
Showtime. “Yes, si…yes, I have. Only, I’m not sure what all that entails. It was a bit vague.” Jake put on his best Forrest Gump, aw-shucks-ain’t-I-a-slow-one face.
Deal grinned and somewhere sharks got jealous. “Don’t you play dumb with me, boy. Not after what I saw. You think I don’t know what you’re up to? You think I was unaware that given half a chance, Hank would just as soon shank my big ol’ ass as tell me the time of day? That he and my daughter—”
Daddy stopped himself and changed tracks, much to Jake’s chagrin. “I do what that old French king did—I keep my friends close and my enemies closer. There’s shit you don’t know, but you sure are observant, that I’ve seen. You picked up on Hank’s bullshit from the get-go and you’ve been planning your move ever since, haven’t you? I’ve seen you, and I’ve heard what you’ve done when I wasn’t around to see you. Concerning Rachael.”
Jake’s blood went cold.Oh, shit. Rachael was right, someone spied on us the other night.
The big man raised his finger and pointed it at Jake, making him grip the desk tighter and lift his ass off the seat the barest fraction, ready to spring. “Downstairs was a second job interview, boy, one you orchestrated.”
A drop of sweat slipped down the back of Jake’s neck. His hand ached for his .45, back in his locker.
“Mr. Deal, I didn’t—”
“Hush, boy, before your mouth goes getting you into trouble.” Daddy’s lips curled into a friendly smile but his flat shark-eyes didn’t change.
Jake’s ass met the seat, but he was no less cautious.
Deal laughed at Jake. “You and me, we are not stupid men, Jake. I know what you were doing with Rachael.”
Shit.
“You saw an opportunity there with her, one that might garner you favor with me.”
What? Jake thought, careful to keep his face neutral.
“You saw Hank the Wank sneaking around her office, trying to get her alone. And you shut that bullshit down.”
Jake took a breath and rolled with it, improv-acting like his mom taught him. “I didn’t like it. It looked suspicious.”
“Damn straight, it did. So, you went and turned music director and you orchestrated it all just to get my attention. Get yourself a second interview.”
Here goes nothing. “It was a gamble, I’ll admit.”
Deal’s face went deadly serious. “Right, it was.”
Jake braced himself.
“And you came up aces. Congratulations. You got the job you wanted.”
