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We. Him and Astrid, I can only assume. “ Our turnover is still down and I can’t afford to keep both of you on.”
    I glance at Astrid . She has shiny blond hair she wears short, like a seventies bowl cut. Styled, it looks hip and modern but now, tousled from a recent romp with Powers, possibly, it looks weird.Her round, brown eyes are apologetic. We’re friends and I like her. We’ve worked together for two years and we’re close, as these things go . Occasionally we go for drinks after work, on the Friday nights when Powers i s busy. I can hardly blame her for using her feminine wiles to keep her job.
    Powers is still talking, to the wall, where he adjusts a hook. “If you sign Fleur, I might be able to keep you on through October. But after that, I can’t guarantee anything.”
    This is exceptionally bad news. I have gargantuan student loans to repay and can barely afford the small room I rent in Brooklyn, the tiny back basement of a brownstone, where the subway rumbles through the wall at ten-mi nute intervals, day and night. I rent the room from a friend named Sabine, whose parents gifted the two-story apartment and its ginormous mortgage to her when they decided to move back to their homeland: New Jersey . Sabine works two jobs and is putting herself through a degree in film studies. She eats ramen for dinner and sighs when the electricity bill arrives, stacking it with all the other bills in a little wicker basket on top of the fridge. In other words, she doesn’t have the resources to float a loan and/or let me stay rent-free.
    I need another job. P ronto.
    Maybe the ranches in Montana are hiring .
    Sure. And maybe a phantom cowboy will sweep me off my feet and take me for a ride on his black stallion . He’ll tip his hat back to finally reveal that rugged, flawless face.
    Come closer.
    Powers interrupts my mini- joyride. “I told the travel agent down at the corner to expect you . Your flights, hotel and rental car have already been booked. It won’t be overly deluxe, unfortunately. A Super 8 or some such, I’ve told her. It’s hard enough stretching the budget to cover the costs at all. Y ou’ll be picking up your rental car at the airport. Economy class. Rent-a-Wreck, to be exact. I wouldn’t have bothered with it if it wasn’t completely necessary but apparently Montana is …” Powers pauses, taking a step back to assess the alignment of the hook he’s hanging.
    “Big?” I venture.
    “Yes,” Powers says, d ismissively. Something occurs to him and he glances briefly in my direction. “You can drive, right?”
    “Uh … yes, I do have a license.” I’ve only driven a couple of times and there’s no need to tell him about the last time I drove. That small fender bender I got into (actually it wasn’t that small but no one was hurt, which is the main thing).
    “And if you can’t get Fleur to sign, well, I’m afraid I won’t be able to pay you past the end of the month.”
    “I’ll get her to sign,” I hear myself reply. It’s the first day of August. If I can secure Fleur for October, that’ll give me three more months of employment. Plenty of time to find something else to pay my bills.
    “I’ve left your ticket open-ended for now,” Powers continues. “You can book the return flight as soon as you get Fleur to sign, which could take a few days. Apparently she’s already refused two New York offers. She’s holding out for the big time, since she knows she’s got the street appeal.”
    “I’ll pin her down,” I say. I feel pretty confident I can get the job done. I can be convincing when I put my mind to it.
    “You’re going to make her an offer she can’t refuse,” Powers says.“And if she does refuse, you’re going to be persistent. You’re not going to take no for an answer.”
    “Right,” I say.
    I have to get the job done. Spending winter in a cardboard box does not sound like fun.
    Maybe a little jaunt to the outer reaches of the Wild West is exactly what