After a Short Walk

Cobb’s is packed.

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t set foot in a bar like this. I just don’t fit in. There are only three types of people that come into Cobb’s. The first is upper-class college frat boys who have trust funds that are spilling over. The second, wealthy middle-aged men who are suffering from severe midlife crises leading them to believe that they are once more upper-class college frat boys who have trust funds that are spilling over. This leads us directly to the third type: the working girls. A working girl can hit a club like this a few times a week, and generally, they don’t have to roll over on their backs very often. They can charge a lot and they usually get a big tip for their efforts, provided that they have the look and the pickings are ripe. Tonight, the pickings are definitely ripe.

I ignore the upturned noses upon my entrance. My blue jeans don’t fit in with the khakis. I have to remind myself that I didn’t come here to pick a fight, I came here to get answers. After a glance around the room, I find my magic eight-ball. She’s sitting at a booth in the dimly lit corner of the bar.

Natalie always had the look.

I can see her face as she’s buttering up some hopeful client. She sees me coming as I approach. She doesn’t seem thrilled to see me. She starts to gather her belongings to leave as I slide in next to her. The frat boy across from me casts a disgusted look in my direction. I ignore that too.

“Hi, Natalie.”

“Piss off, Levi. I’m in the middle of something.” She looks across the table at her frat boy. Her greeting is just as warm as I figured it would be.

“Listen, guy, this is a private party,” Frat Boy chimes in.

I don’t pay him any mind. “This’ll only take a minute.”

Frat Boy leans in. He puts a hand on my arm. “Take a hike, buddy.”

I clench my jaw. “You’ve got about three seconds to take your mitt off my arm.”

Natalie can see that this is going to escalate quickly. She looks nervously around the room. I can’t be good for business. Seeing no help and no way out, her eyes settle back on the frat boy. “Joel . . .”

“A guy like this can’t just walk in here and do what he pleases,” Joel says to her, pretending that I’m not even present for the conversation. “He can’t just bother girls like you.” I have to hand it to him. He is chivalrous.

He turns his attention back to me. “Now, you better walk away before something bad happens.” He tightens his grip on my arm. If I tighten my jaw any further, it’s going to snap in two. I turn my face toward his.

“I’m being very patient with you, Joel,” I whisper. “Patience is not a virtue that I was blessed with, so, if you don’t want anything bad to happen, you had better let go of my arm.”

Joel scoffs. He’s the type of college kid who took karate when he was younger and now he thinks he’s the second coming of Bruce Lee. “What’s gonna happen if I don’t, pal?”

In a single fluid movement, I grab hold of his hand and twist it around as I stand slowly from the table and take the empty seat in the booth beside him. His face contorts and his eyes well up with tears.

“I don’t want to make you cry in front of our lady friend here,” I breathe. “So, if you’ll promise to behave, I won’t break your arm. Do you understand?” He nods vigorously. “I need to talk to her for a few minutes. Why don’t you make like a good boy and grab us some drinks?” I stand from the booth, bringing him along with me. I release his arm and push him toward the bar. He moves in that direction, cradling his hand, but then he makes a sudden beeline for the door. Looks like that means there are no drinks coming. I look back at Natalie. Her eyes are already burning into me.

“Goddammit, Levi,” she growls, “that was easy money you just blew for me.”

I shrug in response. “I tried to play nice.”

“Yeah? I saw that.”

I don’t particularly feel like getting into an argument with her, so I cut to the chase. “I need to know who turns the tricks in Forest Heights.”

Natalie drops her jaw. “Is that all I am to you, you prick? A random fuck and some answers?”

“Lower your voice.”

“No,” she yells. “Fuck you, Levi. You take your key back and then you expect me to be cooperative? Are you gonna threaten to break my arm too?”

“If it comes to that,” I tell her, leaning down on the table and looking her dead in the eyes. “But I don’t want it to come to that.”

She takes a pen and a business card from her purse with an exasperated sigh. At first, I think that the pimps in Forest Heights have more money than I thought. If they can afford business cards, they must be paying someone off pretty handsomely for immunity. Then Natalie flips the card over and starts scribbling on the back. I realize that it’s just a random card. She finishes writing the information and slides the card across the table before throwing her pen back in her purse.

Han Denderson.

With an address beneath it. Natalie crosses her arms over her chest.

“Thanks,” I say, placing the card in my shirt pocket.

“Is that all you need?”

“That’ll just about do it.” I turn from the table and start walking toward the exit.

“Oh, and Levi?” Natalie calls. I turn around to look at her. She looks like she’s about ready to combust. “You were the worst lay I’ve ever had. Drunk, sober, paying, or otherwise.” She raises her eyebrows smugly.

I grin, turning to the bartender and saying loudly enough so that the entire bar can hear me, “It’s okay. She’s really a guy. She has a dick.” Natalie lets out a screech as I continue to the door.

There goes a perfectly good friendship.