One Step to You (The Rome Novels #1)(74)

He braced his hand on the table’s edge, laid the pool cue down on it, and slid it back and forth in the groove between thumb and forefinger, testing it. Then he focused on the cue ball. There it was, motionless at the center of the table, cold. Just waiting to be hit.

He took a deep breath and then exhaled completely. One more test run and then he took his shot. Precise. With just the right amount of force. Side cushion and then the cue ball just touched the thirteen ball—pocket. Perfect.

Then the cue ball started its trip back. Going fast, much too fast. No, stop, stop, stop. He’d hit it too hard after all. Maybe it had been his excessive alcohol-fueled enthusiasm or else his forbidden desire for that honey-hued young woman. The cue ball rolled past the ten and stopped, right there, just past the middle of the table, in front of Claudio, spiteful and cruel.

Their two adversaries exchanged a glance. One of them raised an eyebrow; the other heaved a sigh of relief. For a moment there, they’d been afraid they were about to lose the game. Now they smiled.

From that position, Claudio really had an impossible shot. He walked around the table. He studied all the relative distances. Difficult. He’d have to make a four-cushion shot. He stood there in a corner, leaning on the edge of the table with both hands.

“What do you care? Give it a try.” Claudio turned around. Step was right behind him. He’d understood what Claudio was thinking as if he’d just read his mind.

“Yes, but four cushions…”

“So what? Worst case, we lose…But if you make it, just think how bad they’re going to feel!”

Claudio and Step looked at their two adversaries. They’d ordered a couple of beers, and they were sitting there, at a table nearby, already drinking, certain of their victory.

Claudio started to laugh. “Right, what do we care, worst case, we lose!” By now, he was drunk. He went over to the other side of the table. He chalked his cue stick and took the shot. The cue ball seemed to fly over the green felt.

First cushion. Claudio thought back to the many afternoons he’d spent shooting pool.

Second cushion, he thought of his old friends and how they’d hang out together all the time.

Third cushion, the girls, the money he didn’t have, and how much fun they all had.

Fourth cushion. His lost youth, Francesca, and when he was still seventeen…

Just then the cue ball hit the ten ball full on from behind with power, confidence, and precision. A dull thwack. The ten ball shot forward, into the middle pocket.

“Nailed it!”

“Yahooo!” Claudio and Step hugged in delight.

“Fuck, look at the luck you had. Look where you left the cue ball,” Step said.

The cue ball stood directly in front of the yellow one ball, just inches from the far pocket. Claudio knocked it in with an easy shot.

“We won!” Claudio hugged Francesca and even managed to swing her through the air. Then, dancing with his arms around her, he bumped into one of their two adversaries.

“Get the fuck away from me.” The guy gave Claudio a shove, knocking him against the pool table. Francesca leaped right back up onto her feet. Claudio, slightly stunned, took a little longer.

The guy grabbed him by the lapels and hauled him up. “Smart guy, huh? ‘It’s been years since the last time I played’…‘Guys, I’m all out of practice,’” he mimicked.

Claudio was terrified. He just stood there, uncertain what to do. “I haven’t played in years, for real.”

“Oh, sure! Well, from that last shot I wouldn’t say so.”

“It was dumb luck.”

“Hey, that’s enough. Let go of him.” The guy pretended he hadn’t heard Step. “I said let go of him.”

Suddenly Claudio felt himself being dragged backward. He found himself free now, with his jacket loose again.

He caught his breath while the other guy was slammed up against the wall. Step had one hand around his throat. “What are you, deaf? I’m not looking for an argument. Come on, out with the two hundred thousand lire. You guys insisted on playing.”

The other guy stepped forward with the cash in his hand. “You tricked us though. That guy plays ten times better than Pollo.”

Step took the money, counted it, and put it in his pocket. “That’s true, but don’t blame me. I didn’t even know the guy.”

Then he locked arms with Claudio, and together they emerged from the pool hall, victorious.

Claudio ordered another whiskey. This time, it was to get over his fright. “Thanks, Step. Heck, that guy wanted to knock my teeth out.”

“No, he was just acting. He was just furious about losing!”

“No, no, thanks, for real.”

Step smiled. “Here, Claudio. This is your hundred thousand lire.”

“No, seriously, I can’t accept it.”

“Why not? Fuck, you basically won the game! And you were even taking the beating for it.”

“All right, in that case, let’s have a nice drink to it. On me.”

Not long after that, seeing the condition Claudio was in, Step walked him to his car. “Are you sure you can drive home?”

“Absolutely, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re sure, aren’t you? It doesn’t cost me anything to ride along with you.”