Lawn Boy(26)

“Hustling is overrated. It makes you bitter when things don’t work out. I’ve seen it. The key is to take risks and court luck. That way, when you fail, you haven’t got too much invested.”

Chaz then proceeded to tell me everything but the particulars of Razmachaz LLC, and where exactly the “point man” fit in, ordering numerous rounds while I watched in the mirror behind the bar as the guy in the Yankees cap kept his arm around Remy. Of course I was jealous. But more than that, I was embarrassed that it wasn’t me with my arm around Remy. It should have been.

Finally, Remy walked to the bathroom, and I ducked my head as she passed, determined to get out of there before she saw me.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Chaz tossed off his drink in a single slurp and left two twenties on the bar. I ducked my head again on the way out. I didn’t even glance at Remy as I whisked past.

“Mike!” I heard her say.

“Oh, hey,” I said, turning.

“Meet you out front,” said Chaz with a little wink.

Simultaneously disappointed and relieved not to have to introduce Chaz, I stood at the end of Remy’s booth, not knowing what to do or say next.

“This is my brother, Travis,” she said.

“Oh!” I said, a little too brightly. “Nice to meet you.”

“Right on,” he said. “Is this the guy?”

Remy socked him on the shoulder and blanched. I felt bad for her getting put on the spot like that, even though I couldn’t believe for a second that I was “the guy.”

“So, what’s up?” I said.

“You stopped coming around. You promised you’d come back and see me.”

“Well, after the whole saltshaker incident, I wasn’t sure if they really wanted us in there.”

“Anyway, I don’t work there anymore,” she said.

“Where do you work?”

“Nowhere right now. What about you?”

“I’m in production.”

“Ooh, like film?”

“More like bobbleheads.”

“That sounds cool. Better than waiting tables, anyway. How’s your novel?”

“Oh, you know, comin’ along,” I said. “Getting ready to publish it, actually.”

Goddammit, I was doing it again, digging myself a deeper hole, creating expectations I could never live up to. It’s like I wanted to fail.

“How exciting!” said Remy. “When can I read it?”

“Soon. Just needs some, you know, tuning up. Some editorial.”

“I can’t wait,” she said. “Hey, you wanna sit down?”

“Nah, my friend is waiting for me. I’ve gotta give him a lift. I better get going. It was great seeing you, though.”

I was about to make my exit, scalp tingling, heart clenched in self-contempt.

“Wait,” she said, fishing around in her purse. She located a pen and scribbled her number on a beer coaster.

“Call me,” she said.

“Uh, yeah, will do.”

I must have been smiling like an idiot when I walked out and found Chaz leaning against the wall.

He looked mildly impressed. “Funny, the whole time, I kinda figured you were gay,” he said.

“Why would I be gay?”

“I don’t know. Just a feeling I got.”

“Do I seem gay or something?”

“Not exactly. More like you don’t seem not gay.”

“Why, because I don’t have a girlfriend?”

“That could be it.”

“Well, where’s your girlfriend?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Are you gay?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well, there you go. And besides,” I hastened to add, displaying my coaster with Remy’s number, the smiley face already beginning to smear with the sweat of my palm, “I got digits.”

“Not bad,” said Chaz.

Yes, I was pretty damned satisfied with myself as we walked the four blocks back to the car, Chaz lagging behind with uneven strides, stopping once to piss in a shrub. I felt like I was actually, finally, on the verge of something.





The Player I treasured that coaster. I wore its edges smooth, contemplating the possibilities. I was really beginning to think Remy might be the one. She was engaging, quite attractive, and familiar enough to feel comfortable around. If I could only get close enough to Remy, I knew she would stir me in some special way, and I could get over the girlfriend hump.


But making the next move was a lot tougher than it should’ve been. Sad as it sounds, I actually wished I could’ve called Nick for advice, though I’m sure I knew exactly how that conversation would run: “Generally speaking,” he’d say. “I’d give it a week before calling her. But in your case, I wouldn’t wait longer than three days.”

“Why in my case?”

“She might lose interest.”

“Geez, thanks.”

“Well, Michael. Maybe you’re just not alpha material, that’s all I’m sayin’. Maybe you’re one of those sensitive guys who’s just gotta be around all the time, drinking with her while she complains about other guys and confesses a bunch of stuff. Then, eventually, she drinks too much and gives into your sensitive-guy charms.”