Hard Play Read Online Free PDF

smiled at his little rebellion. His skinny follower smiled in return.
    The man in the corduroy suit stumbled his way to the front of the room, right past the smoking girl, and took his place behind the podium. When setting down his paper cup, he missed by a good foot and sent yet another cup of coffee reeling to the floor. As though he didn’t even notice, which he probably didn’t, he started in.
    “My name is Devon,” he said. “And I’ve been an alcoholic for—”
    His words ceased as he looked around the room, sniffing at the air. After a few pokes with his nose at the empty space around him, Devon, the alcoholic in corduroy, squinted his eyes and sneered across the room at Frank. He leaned forward and gripped the podium for balance.
    “Can’t smoke in here,” he articulated as best he could. His body swayed despite his bracing against the wood.
    Skinny girl stamped hers out in a heartbeat. Frank smiled and took another deep drag, unmoving beside the table, his shirt still wet and covered in brown coffee spots.
    “Probably shouldn’t be drunk in here,” Frank said loudly while pointing to the stains on his chest. He puffed long and hard, then added under his breath, “Least I’m just hung over.”
    Frank pulled his shades over his eyes. Devon froze. Then, slowly he looked about the room. All eyes were on him and his dusty blue suit. Not that everybody hadn’t already known he was shit-faced, but now that it was out, now that someone had spoken the words, somehow it seemed more difficult for the lot of them to stay. One by one the room emptied. Devon stumbled out after them trying desperately to explain himself, but his group was lost to the blazing afternoon sun. Frank stamped his cigarette out on the floor.
    As he left the room, he looked back on the empty chairs and whispered to himself, “Forget this shit. Not my scene. I’m going to the strip club.”
     
     

 
    Chapter 5
    The night was late . The music was loud. Eazy’s was the type of place you could get a drink, disappear in the shadows and watch a good show. It wasn’t a hot spot. You didn’t have to wait in a line or dress a certain way or know a special someone. No, Eazy’s was simple, central and cool. Frank tried his best to keep it that way.
    It wasn’t long after Frank’s mom left that his dad, Dean, got the call. Diana had passed away and he and a much younger Frank were fifty-five thousand richer. Turned out no one ever finalized the divorce and Dean was still listed as her beneficiary on all the important forms, including the life insurance policy. Frank left home that next month. He wanted nothing to do with what he called, “blood money.” But times changed. Dean got sick and Frank came home to help out. Before all that, Dean did well for a few years with stocks and trading and pulled out while he was still ahead. He’d turned that fifty-five thousand into millions before he retired from the force and succumbed to dementia. If you asked anyone, Frank was co-owner at Eazy’s, but really he was just running it for his dad. His name wasn’t on any of the papers that mattered and what little profits the place managed to choke out went right to Dean. It didn’t pay the bills, but Frank felt at home here and it didn’t hurt that the drinks were free.
    The tarnished floorboards reeked of stale beer and Lysol. Flowers and vodka clung to the crowded, salty air. Frank sat at the bar, his highball glass in hand. He shook the empty glass at the bartender, begging quietly for another drink. Ted, the bald, doughy piece of work behind the bar, uncapped a bottle of bottom-shelf scotch and tipped it into Frank’s glass. His fuzzy knuckles shook as he poured.
    “No top-shelf tonight?” Frank grimaced.
    “Even as the boss-man,” Ted said. “Can’t let you drink us into the red.” He tugged at the collar of his long-sleeved emerald-green polo and smiled.
    “Fair enough.”  Frank took a sip, then asked, “Where’s Julio?”
    Ted