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That attracted me, like a bear to honey.* * *I slipped my dark sunglasses on and pulled into traffic. Clair sat next to me, slumped in her seat, her knees up on the glove compartment, her head against the side of the door. It wasn’t the best position to be in, just in case we got attacked while on the road, but I figured we were safe enough.
“Where are we going, anyway?” she asked.
“Seeing some friends of mine,” I said. “I owe them a visit. And they owe me some money.”
She groaned. “Of course. We’re doing something illegal.”
“Not illegal,” I said. “Just… a little illegal. Relax, this is fine, don’t worry about it.”
She grunted and shook her head. She wore a pair of tight dark jeans and a button-down navy shirt. Even though her attire was a little conservative, she still looked like she belonged on a runway. The girl’s long, lean legs and tight, pert body drove me goddamn wild no matter what she wore.
I crossed over the Schuylkill, heading back east. I angled north and found myself in Chinatown, moving slowly through the crowded streets.
Chinatown was a mass of buildings, restaurants, stoops and shops. Signs in English and Chinese dominated the landscape, though a lot of the Chinese had been translated into English script. Chinatown was always busting, always busy, though it was only a few blocks around in total. It was like a small oasis in the city, a little world unto its own, and traffic was always heavy.
I managed to find a spot a couple blocks away and parked. We got out of the car and headed down the sidewalk. The sun was out, but a cool breeze ran through the streets as we made our way back into the crowded central section. The huge pagoda entrance that marked the beginning of Chinatown loomed large over the streets, with its traditional-style roof and bright red and gold decorations.
I wove my way through the crowd, dodging strollers and slow-moving groups of tourists. The crowd was a mix of people, some locals that lived nearby moving fast between the shops, and some out-of-towners gawking at everything around them. Chinatown could be overwhelming at first, but it was like any other place in any city.
You just had to figure it out, and then its secrets would open up.
“I love this place,” I said as Clair caught up with me.
“Really?” she asked. “I figured you’d be more of a South Street type.”
“No way,” I said. “That’s some fake touristy shit these days. Chinatown’s still got real roots here. The people that own these stores, they’ve been here for generations.”
She frowned and dodged around a group of kids talking on their phones, barely paying attention to where they were going.
“I can’t say I come here much,” she said. “I mean, it’s always so crowded. Really chaotic.”
“I love it,” I said. “The food here’s amazing. Not just Chinese, either. Lots of good stuff. There’s a Korean place I love, and a Thai place you’ll have to try, and there’s this Burmese restaurant that’s unbelievable.”
“Burmese?” she asked, laughing a little. “Okay, now that I have to try.”
“I’ll take you there some time, I promise,” I said. “Right now, though, we have some business.”
I moved around a display of small brightly colored socks set up on a plastic folding table outside of a clothing store and stopped out in front of a restaurant called Lucky Hog. The door was shut and the gate was down, but there was a small white doorbell right next to the handle. I hit it once, waited a second, hit it two more times, and stepped back.
Clair lingered, looking around with a frown. “It looks closed,” she said. “And the name is really weird.”
“Just wait a minute,” I said, crossing my arms. “He’ll come out.”
“Who are we seeing, anyway?”
“The old Hog himself.” I looked back and grinned at her, but before I could explain, the gate rolled up and the door unlocked.
An old man stood there, his hair white and slicked back. He had tan, wrinkled skin, dark eyes, and a perpetual scowl on his face. His skinny body wore a baggy button-down Hawaiian shirt tucked into a pair of cargo shorts stained with oil.
“Luca,” he said, practically barking at me. “What are you doing here?”
“Came to collect, Hog,” I said.
Hog shook his head and gestured wildly. “You just show up, want to collect, don’t give any notice. Come on, Luca, you can’t do that to me.”
“Hog,” I said. “It’s been two weeks. Don’t act like this is a surprise. I know you’re good for it.”
Hog dropped his hands, spotted Clair. “The girl with you?”
“The girl’s with me,” I said, staring at him. “That’s fine, right?”
“Of course,” he said, looking offended. “Any friend of yours is a friend of Hog’s. Come on, get in here, you bastard.”
