The Amateurs by Marcus Sakey Read Free Book Online Page B

her. No sundress, but a strappy shirt that showed off her shoulders.
    He sat, smiled, then saw Ian. “Whoa!” The guy’s left eye was swollen nearly shut, thick flesh ringed in bright purple and dark black. “Jesus,” Mitch said. “What happened to you?”
    “He won’t tell us,” Jenn said. “But I think it was a woman.”
    “I did tell you. I tripped. I was out late, came home buzzed, caught my foot on the mat.”
    “And hit the doorknob with your eyeball?”
    “Yeah.” Ian reached for his beer, drained half in a pull. “Nice shot, huh? Doorknob, one; Ian, zero. But I’ve got plans for revenge.” He smiled. “Anyway. You’re missing a hell of a story. Alex is beginning a life of crime.”
    “It’s not funny, man.” Alex had dark circles of his own.
    “Hold on. Let me order.”
    “I did it for you,” Jenn said. “Chilaquiles, right?”
    Mitch looked over and smiled, suddenly ten feet tall and lighter than air and very glad he’d come. “Yeah. Thanks.” He held the look a moment, then turned to Alex. “So?”
    “His boss is using him as muscle,” Ian said. “He’s gonna get medieval on some tough guys.”
    “Would you quit it? This is serious. My boss is—”
    “An asshole?”
    “Well, yeah. Yesterday he was fiddling with the safe when I walked into his office, and he freaked like I caught him jerking off.” Alex shook his head. “I calm him down, very polite, use his last name and everything. And he says he wants me to come to a meeting. Like, an after-hours kind of meeting. A side deal, he wants me to be his bodyguard.”
    “No shit?”
    “No shit. And I say no, still very polite. He says I don’t do this, I’m fired, and he’ll tell everybody I’ve been stealing.”
    “Hmm.” Mitch could picture it, the skeezy guy condescending and threatening at once, big tough Alex having to stand there and take it. The thought almost made him smile. Payback’s a bitch . Then he saw the look in his friend’s eyes and immediately felt bad for feeling good.
    “You got that far before,” Ian said. “So? Are you going to do it?”
    “He signs the checks, right? But then—” Alex stopped at the arrival of a ferret-faced blonde balancing plates down the length of a tattooed arm. Ian ordered another beer. After she walked away, Alex said, “But then it got worse.” He pushed his plate forward and leaned on his elbows. “I got to wondering what Johnny was doing in the safe, right? I mean, he was so concerned with it.”
    Mitch cut into his breakfast, scooping up corn tortillas and salsa verde and pulled chicken.
    “So after he took off, I went back into the office, and I opened the safe.”
    “I’m surprised ‘Johnny Love’ gave you the combination,” Jenn said.
    “He didn’t. A couple of months ago he was after some information in there, something about a real-estate deal. Manager wasn’t working, didn’t want to come in, so he called and gave me the combo. It’s Johnny’s birthday. He makes a point of showing up every year on his birthday to see who remembers.”
    Jenn gave a sharp, high laugh. “This guy gets better and better.”
    “Worse and worse.” Alex’s features went dark in a way that reminded Mitch of his fluttering curtains, blinding sunlight to deep gloom. “You know what was there?” He paused, then looked over his shoulder. Pitched his voice low. “Cash. A lot of it. Like, stacks of hundred-dollar bills.”
    Mitch stopped chewing. Next to him, Jenn leaned forward the barest amount, more an intake of breath than a calculated motion. For a second, the crowded patio seemed to fall silent, and he could hear the rustling of leaves above them, the sound of traffic on Belmont.
    “Nice.” Ian picked up his water glass and held it against his bad eye, the ice cubes tinkling. “You had me going.”
    Jenn looked around the table, at Ian, at Alex, at Mitch, at Alex again, back at Ian again. “Is he kidding?”
    “Of course he’s kidding.”
    “I’m not.”