LifeoftheParty Read Free Page B

her a kiss on the cheek. “Jesus,
woman, you’re cold.” He shoved his hand in his pocket. Then the other. Then in
his jacket. “Damn, did he take my car keys too?”
    “And the car,” said Pam, waddling back to her laptop. “Since
he had to move it off the lawn anyway.”
    “Son of a bitch. That means I’ll have to—”
    “Walk? Ought to do you good to go toward something,
don’t you think?”
    * * * * *
    SERIOUS JOE COFFEE BISTRO—RIVERBORO
    11:44 A.M.
     
    It hadn’t been far, only five or six blocks, a little over
half a mile to Carmelli’s coffee bistro, Serious Joe. He had to admit, the
crisp October air did help to clear his head. In fact, it was a hell of a lot
more pleasant outside than Doug knew it was going to be inside. He could see
his car parked in the small lot in the back. His stomach tightened. Even though
he loved the man like a brother there were just some things he had no business
butting into. This sure as hell was one of them. He stepped inside.
    And into another world. Coming onto lunchtime, Serious Joe’s
tables were already three-quarters taken, the buzz of chatter and low hum of
jazz filling the sunny room. Doug looked past the potted plants and eclectic
artwork to the counter where Roark held court, a small coterie of women ooh ing
and aah ing as he worked some caffeinated magic with an especially
elaborate French press.
    “Add a little cinnamon and voila !” Roark said,
pouring the coffee into a bright ceramic cup. “Java to die for.”
    A woman leaned over, slurping a sip. “Oh Roark, it’s fabulous ,”
she cooed, gifting him with an interior view of her Wonderbra. “Shelly, c’mere,
you gotta taste this.”
    As gal-pal attempted to give Roark another hands-free
demonstration of breast lift-and-squish, Doug interjected with, “Dude, I think
you have something of mine.”
    Roark looked up, a brow raised. “Well, well, if it ain’t the
midnight rambler.” He poured the rest of the coffee into two more cups and,
adding them to a tray, directed a server to their table. “Enjoy, ladies. See
you soon.”
    “’Bye, Roark,” one of them said, each giving Doug a quick
up-and-down.
    Roark folded his muscled arms across his chest. “You have
something to say to me, Welland?”
    “I think you know that.”
    “Outside then,” he said, and Doug followed him through the
kitchen and out the back door. When they reached the end of the parking lot,
Roark turned. “Okay. Talk.”
    Doug stared at his old partner. A million things jumped to
the fore, but the only thing he could say was, “Why’d you do it?”
    Roark met his gaze. “Because she needs you.”
    “I’m the last thing she needs. Christ! Didn’t she prove that
already?”
    “If that were true she would’ve stayed gone and we wouldn’t
be having this conversation.” A breeze kicked up and Roark shoved his hands in
his pockets. “Look, she came to me asking about protection, but I told her I
didn’t do that anymore. So I told her to get ahold of you. When I said that she
looked like it hurt just hearing your name, but who was she kidding? I could
see she was just going through me to get to you anyway. I said I’d give you a
call, but she said she’d contact you herself.”
    “Her number’s on my phone. Did you give it to her?”
    “No. She must have gone through Halchak.”
    “And he jumped on it to get me off the Unit.” Doug snorted.
“Thanks, buddy.”
    Roark’s eyes flared. “He didn’t fire you, did he? Because if
he did, I swear to God I’ll go down there and tell that bastard—”
    “No, I’m just suspended to Psycho. Unless I go see her.”
    “Then do it,” Roark said, looking genuinely relieved.
    Doug glared at him. “ You fucking psycho?”
    “ You are if you don’t. And after last night, I don’t
need any more proof.”
    “This is bullshit.” Doug held out his hand. “Give me my
piece.”
    Roark clasped his friend’s shoulder. “Doug, listen to me,
what can it hurt to just