Manny opened the door on a safety chain. He wanted to judge just how angry this producer was before he let him in.
Only it wasn’t the producer. It was someone he knew, Viveca’s boyfriend. What was he doing here?
Maybe delivering money, a bonus for him keeping quiet under duress. He had known Viveca was clever enough to take the hint.
Manny took off the chain and let the young man in.
“You’re Viveca’s boyfriend.”
“Bruce.”
“Right. Bruce. I’m Manny. I think we met at one time or other. So what brings you here?”
“Viveca says there’s trouble.”
“Nothing serious, someone asking about a story and she doesn’t want her name mentioned. I assure you it won’t be. Just as I assured her.”
“She’s still worried.”
“So she sent me some money? It wasn’t necessary, but she’s made her point. Whatever someone offers me, she’ll go higher. I know that, and she knows I know that. But I’m happy for the reminder. It’s a show of good faith.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
Bruce wandered over to Manny’s desk. It was bare save for a telephone, a bottle of booze, a pen, a pad of paper, a letter opener, and some mail.
Bruce turned back and leaned against the side of the desk, his eyes on Manny.
Manny was getting a little exasperated with the kid. He remembered hearing he was a little slow. “So, you got something for me or not?”
“Oh, I got something for you,” Bruce said.
He picked up the letter opener and, with the brutal efficiency learned in the army, plunged it into the gossip columnist’s heart.