Collection Read Online Free PDF Page A

nodded.
    I sat down across from him.   “Colletto said you might be interested in earning some extra cash.   Was he right?”
    “Depends on the job.”
    “Protection.   I need someone to watch over a friend.   She’s going through a divorce, and the husband isn’t taking it too good.   I need you to convince him to behave himself.”
    “Who’s the woman?”
    “I was hoping you could meet her.   Tomorrow night?”
    He laughed.   “I need to know more about what I’ll be asked to do.”
    “Why does that matter?”
    Max leaned across the table resting his elbows on the tabletop.   “Because if you want me to break his arm, that’s gonna cost you less than if you want something more serious.”
    I sat back and took a cigarette from my jacket.   I offered him one and he took it.   “I don’t want you to do anything but make sure nothing happens to her.”
    He reached for a pack of matches on the table, lit one and held to the end of the cigarette.   “Tomorrow night?”
    I wrote an address on a napkin and handed it to him.   “Nine o’clock if you’re interested.”
    He took the napkin.   “I’ll decide tomorrow.”
     
    ~
     
    When I got home Ava opened the door and ran outside.   I got out of the car and she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me, pushing me back.
    When she let me go I asked, “What’s that for?”
    “You got it,” she said, then kissed me again.
    There was a mistake, I was sure of it.   I shook my head.   “The Settler’s job?   No, I didn’t.”
    She smiled.   “There’s a message on the machine.   They want you to start Monday.   They even gave you the dinner shift.”
    Ava was moving up and down on her toes.   I tried to get my head around what she was telling me.   When I went inside I hit the play button on the machine and listened for myself.
    “’Hello, Mr. Davies,’” the voice said.   “’This is Walter Holland at the Settler’s club.   I wanted to call and inform you that we would like to hire you as evening sous chef.   Can you be here Monday afternoon, say, three o’clock?   Please call me if this doesn’t work.’”
    He’d left his phone number, and after I’d listened to the message three times, I picked up the phone and called him.   I looked at my watch.   It was late, but I took a chance he’d still be there.  
    I was right.
    “It turns out we have a sudden vacancy in our kitchen,” he said.   “So we would like you to step in.   You do feel confident with the position of sous chef, don’t you Mr. Davies?”
    I told him I did.   Of course I did.
    “Any man who went to the Institute would, I assume.”   The tone in his voice hadn’t changed since the interview.
    “You don’t believe me about my history?”
    “Time will tell.”
    “That seems like a big risk to take.   You don’t seem like the type of man who would hire someone off the street just because they claim to be a graduate of the Culinary Institute.”
    “That’s right,” he said.   “I’m not.   Fortunately for you, one of our more regular clients at the Club put in a good word for you and suggested we hire you.”
    I closed my eyes.
    “We respect the opinions of our members here, Mr. Davies.   Therefore, you have a job.”
    I couldn’t speak.
    After a moment of silence, Walter said, “Monday does work for you, correct?”
    I found my voice.   “Colletto?”
    “He’s been a member longer than I’ve been employed here, and I’ve been through three presidents.   You’re obviously on his good side, and that’s good enough for me.”  
    Good side?  
    “We’ll see you Monday?”
    “Sure,” I said.   “Monday.”
    Walter hung up.   I kept the phone to my ear and thought about Colletto.   Maybe he did it because of my father.   Maybe I made a good impression.   Maybe he just liked to throw his power around and thought I was a good charity case.   Whatever the reason, I was happy for it, but at the same time I