walls were off-white, the carpets a nondescript beige.
"Tell him about the other stuff," Gus said eagerly.
"There's also a fax machine, copier, and a computer system on the way." Vincent bounded down the hallway to the first office and proudly pushed open the door. The room was empty, but had wall-to-wall carpeting and two large windows. "This is yours. I'm taking the one next door, and I figured we'd give Gus the one in back."
"You're sure we can afford this?" Frank asked, hesitantly entering his new office.
Vincent looked at Gus. "Give us the room, would you, pal?" Gus frowned but made no reply, quietly closing the door behind him. "Not to worry, Frank."
"Just seems a bit excessive, no?"
"Check it out. We started with twenty-five grand, right? I know a guy who knows the guy who owns this place. Regular rent runs seven-fifty - we got it for six and a quarter. I paid the whole year off. Seventy-five hundred. The furniture and the rest of the shit's all coming in through channels Michael either controls or influences, so what everybody else pays and what we pay are two different things, cabeesh?"
Frank nodded. "What'll we have left in reserve?"
"I got everything from initial start-up costs for the direct mail and telephones sales right down to our fucking business cards figured in," Vincent said. "We're still sitting on twelve-five."
"What about the accountant?"
"We meet with him and the lawyer on Monday. They're both friends, Frank. We officially begin operation bright and early Tuesday morning, and when it's all said and done we'll still have ten large in the bank."
Just as Frank began to relax there was a knock at the door. Gus stuck his head into the room. "Benny Dunn is here to see you guys."
Although Benny was primarily a friend of Vincent's, Frank had also known him for years. Because he'd been in on several scams with them in the past, he was a trusted friend; because he had experience in concert security and crowd control, they had decided to offer him a job.
"Tell him we'll be right with him," Vincent said.
Frank waited until Gus had closed the door before he spoke. "You'll have to talk to him yourself, Vin. I got plans. Go ahead and offer him the job."
"No problem," Vincent said. "What's the matter, you all right?"
"I had a tough night."
"Sandy giving you a hard time?" Frank flashed him a look that left little to the imagination. Vincent responded by handing him an envelope. "That ought to keep her panties out of her asshole for a while."
Frank opened the envelope, thumbed through fifteen hundred dollars in cash. "What's this about?"
"There was three thousand bucks left over. I split it down the middle. I know it ain't much, but I figured it'd help until things get rolling. Now, you want some advice on the marital problems?"
"Absolutely not."
"Go home," Vincent said, undaunted, "give your old lady a couple hundred to blow on herself, then put the rest away. Take her out to dinner, maybe a movie, then hop into bed and slip her the sausage real good."
"I've got a better chance of fucking you."
"Trust me, she'll come around a lot faster than you think."
Frank stuffed the envelope in his pocket. "I can't believe we're actually pulling this off."
"It's a whole new world, dude." Vincent grinned. "Believe it."
***
Sandy watched Frank and his father prepare the grill on the small cement patio just beyond the glass sliders. Oddly, the two men seemed markedly distant, even when they were together.
"I love your hair," her mother-in-law said from the kitchen.
"Thanks," Sandy said absently. "I went to that new salon over on Wilshire."
"Better not let Darren find out. Hair dressers take it personally when you try someone new."
"He'll get over
"Tell him about the other stuff," Gus said eagerly.
"There's also a fax machine, copier, and a computer system on the way." Vincent bounded down the hallway to the first office and proudly pushed open the door. The room was empty, but had wall-to-wall carpeting and two large windows. "This is yours. I'm taking the one next door, and I figured we'd give Gus the one in back."
"You're sure we can afford this?" Frank asked, hesitantly entering his new office.
Vincent looked at Gus. "Give us the room, would you, pal?" Gus frowned but made no reply, quietly closing the door behind him. "Not to worry, Frank."
"Just seems a bit excessive, no?"
"Check it out. We started with twenty-five grand, right? I know a guy who knows the guy who owns this place. Regular rent runs seven-fifty - we got it for six and a quarter. I paid the whole year off. Seventy-five hundred. The furniture and the rest of the shit's all coming in through channels Michael either controls or influences, so what everybody else pays and what we pay are two different things, cabeesh?"
Frank nodded. "What'll we have left in reserve?"
"I got everything from initial start-up costs for the direct mail and telephones sales right down to our fucking business cards figured in," Vincent said. "We're still sitting on twelve-five."
"What about the accountant?"
"We meet with him and the lawyer on Monday. They're both friends, Frank. We officially begin operation bright and early Tuesday morning, and when it's all said and done we'll still have ten large in the bank."
Just as Frank began to relax there was a knock at the door. Gus stuck his head into the room. "Benny Dunn is here to see you guys."
Although Benny was primarily a friend of Vincent's, Frank had also known him for years. Because he'd been in on several scams with them in the past, he was a trusted friend; because he had experience in concert security and crowd control, they had decided to offer him a job.
"Tell him we'll be right with him," Vincent said.
Frank waited until Gus had closed the door before he spoke. "You'll have to talk to him yourself, Vin. I got plans. Go ahead and offer him the job."
"No problem," Vincent said. "What's the matter, you all right?"
"I had a tough night."
"Sandy giving you a hard time?" Frank flashed him a look that left little to the imagination. Vincent responded by handing him an envelope. "That ought to keep her panties out of her asshole for a while."
Frank opened the envelope, thumbed through fifteen hundred dollars in cash. "What's this about?"
"There was three thousand bucks left over. I split it down the middle. I know it ain't much, but I figured it'd help until things get rolling. Now, you want some advice on the marital problems?"
"Absolutely not."
"Go home," Vincent said, undaunted, "give your old lady a couple hundred to blow on herself, then put the rest away. Take her out to dinner, maybe a movie, then hop into bed and slip her the sausage real good."
"I've got a better chance of fucking you."
"Trust me, she'll come around a lot faster than you think."
Frank stuffed the envelope in his pocket. "I can't believe we're actually pulling this off."
"It's a whole new world, dude." Vincent grinned. "Believe it."
***
Sandy watched Frank and his father prepare the grill on the small cement patio just beyond the glass sliders. Oddly, the two men seemed markedly distant, even when they were together.
"I love your hair," her mother-in-law said from the kitchen.
"Thanks," Sandy said absently. "I went to that new salon over on Wilshire."
"Better not let Darren find out. Hair dressers take it personally when you try someone new."
"He'll get over
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