Bookmaker, The Read Online Free PDF Page A

couldn't do it. Not patient enough, too high strung. Nate couldn't do it, he's an idiot. I love the guy, but if his dad didn't hook him up with a gig with his construction company, he'd be virtually unemployable."
    "C'mon , man, it's not rocket science."
    “No, no it's not , but if it's so easy, why don't Otto do it all himself? He goes fifty-fifty with you, and he's the only one taking the risk—it's his money on the line."
    "Good point man, maybe I am a genius," I joked.
    "Don't get a big fucking head. I'm just trying to get you to not sell yourself short. What you do is real and a lot more honest than some legit careers. If you can do what you do, then hell, you can do most things. You deal with people and that's what life is…dealing with people."
    “You know , man, I always did like your logic and perspective on things, now change the record, it's skipping." I said.
    "Oh shit, my record!" Jay said , running to the turntable.
     
     
    Dayla Devin had almost as many tattoos as Jay. She stood tall yet curvy, with straight black hair cut sharply above a porcelain-pale face. Dayla grew up on our block too. She and Jay have been inseparable for over ten years. She and I were also close, which could be awkward when she wanted to talk about their relationship. I’d never take sides but was often a moderator.
    She was four years older than I was, and that doesn’t seem like a lot in your mid-twenties, but growing up, it was a world of difference. She often treated me as a little brother when we were kids, and it carried over into the present.
    "When you gonna find a nice girl , Trenty? You need someone that’ll put you in your place, get you on the straight and narrow," she said, throwing a pound of marijuana at Jay and telling him to, "Break this shit up."
    Jay obediently headed back to his room and his scales. Dayla lit up a smoke and went on, "Let me hook you up with one of my friends—they'd love a cutie like you.”
    "No thanks,"
    "Why not?”
    "I'm afraid one of your friends would tear me apart."
    "Yeah, you might be right, honey,” she said with a mischievous flash in her dark, overly made up eyes.
    "Plus, I'm thinking of taking a little vacation."
    “Good, you need one,” she said, not bothering to ask where I might be going.
    With Dayla here, Jay would be out of commission for awhile , so I went back in my room to check out the day’s action and wait for someone to call—knowing no one would. It was August, baseball was the only play, and baseball was not designed for gambling; not enough scoring. Hell, they didn’t even use a point spread. So I turned on the History Channel and Wade and I settled into a fascinating program about UFOs.

4
    The phone’s ringing snapped me out of my fog.
    “Yeah,” I answered without thinking.
    “Trent Oster, is this Trent Oster?” The voice said, another southern drawl—not as strong as yesterday’s caller, yet still there.
    “The one and only,” I answered.
    “This is Preston Walker. I believe you spoke with my tight-ass lawyer yesterday. I just wanted call to break the formality. Unfortunately, when it comes to business, I like to have my lawyer make first contact. For legal reasons, you understand?”
    Wow , the man himself, I thought. “Yes Mr. Walker, I spoke with Mr. Upshaw yesterday and he explained your offer to me, and I am considering it.”
    “Oh he did, did he? Well forget it. Forget everything he told you, it’s off the table.”
    Oh well, I thought, I guess I’m not going to Mississippi. No great loss, but why would he call personally if the deal was off, Upshaw could have done that.
    “So you don’t want me to come out? ”
    “On the contrary Mr. Oster, I’ m upping the offer—$10,000 to come out and another $10,000 when you finish the book. And of course you’ll have all publishing rights, and I’ll tell you what… when the public gets a hold of what I got to say, you’ll be on the New York Times Bestseller list in no