“Jules.”
I looked at him.
“Relax. I’m not going to tear your clothes off in a booth at a steak joint.”
I stared at him.
The Broker Restaurant was hardly a “steak joint”. It was a well-established, highly-rated gourmet restaurant. They had more than just steak, they had fish and lamb and pasta too.
And complimentary steamed shrimp. No one gave you complimentary steamed shrimp. They weren’t rinky-dink shrimp either. They were the good shrimp, the big meaty ones.
I shook off thoughts of defending The Broker’s greatness. “I came here for my sixteenth birthday,” I told him in an effort to lead the conversation away from tearing my clothes off.
He got closer and gave the impression he was supremely interested in this trivial comment. I didn’t realize that it was the first time I’d shared anything personal with him that he hadn’t had to force out of me.
“Yeah?” he asked.
I nodded. That was it. The extent of my conversation.
“What are you doin’ this birthday?” Vance asked.
I was so nervous without thinking I blurted, “Going for drinks with Heavy and Zip.”
It was his turn to stare at me and he did so as if I’d just announced I was going to hula dance on the moon.
“Heavy and Zip,” he said.
Damn. Not good.
“They’re –” I started, thinking fast for a lie. I didn’t figure there were dozens of men in Denver nicknamed Heavy and Zip but I was going to make two of them up, no doubt about it.
“A retired PI and a gun shop owner. I know who they are. Jesus, Jules,” Vance shook his head.
Too late for the lie.
“They’re my friends,” I said.
“They’re in on this with you.”
“They know what they’re doing,” I told him.
“Yeah, Heavy knew what he was doing about five years ago when he should have retired. Instead he retired last year when he was well passed it. Zip’s just a lunatic,” Vance said.
I felt my blood pressure rise. “Zip is not a lunatic. He’s a good shot.”
“It all comes out,” Vance muttered.
“And Heavy used to be a cop before he was a PI. He still has friends on the Force and his ear to the ground. Not to mention, he was a semi-pro boxer.”
“And his wife was a speed freak and he couldn’t get her clean so he scraped her off to save himself even though he didn’t want to and it f**ked with his head. Now he’s using you to exact vengeance.”
Wow. I didn’t know that.
I didn’t let Vance in on the fact that this was a revelation.
“That isn’t true.”
“Which part? Her bein’ a speed freak or you bein’ his instrument?”