Page 29 of Joey

But Huck says, “I dunno. I like the poetic shit.”

“How much?” Joey asks. “How much will it cost me?”

“I mean…” I laugh. But my heart flutters inside my chest. Because while I do need money—next year—I don’t need it now. Coming in for this job really wasn’t about the money, was it?

It was about the prospects. It was about finding myself. It was about revealing my purpose.

The second R in that list.

Maybe I wasn’t in the remaking stage like I thought? Maybe I’m just getting started on step two?

So I say, “I’m good for money. I don’t really need that. Not yet, anyway. But I could use a fresh start. I came to this city to make a change. I left my old life behind me and now I need to find a way forward. But I don’t have an education and I can’t exactly list anything I’ve done over the past fifteen years on my résumé. So you three open up some doors for me, help me pad that résumé, and I’ll make sure you get that kid back. Deal?”

They’re all silent, thinking about my offer. Then Joey says, “Do you have any idea who I am? And who that guy was who just walked out?”

“I have some idea. I obviously know who the Boston Brothers are. But beyond your name recognition, no. Not really.”

“Well… we’re involved in some fucked-up shit,” Joey says.

“What do you mean?” Wald asks.

Which is interesting.

“Did something happen that we don’t know about?” Huck asks.

Again. Very interesting.

“I’m just saying,” Joey says, looking at his friend. “Johnny, you know. He’s… not right. And yeah. Something fucking happened. But I can’t tell you about it.” Then he looks at me. “Or you either. So you’re getting involved with a family that has a long history of…”

“Corruption?” I ask, filling in his blank.

Joey inhales and lets out a long breath. “You could say that.”

“Well, look. I’ve been involved with worse. And I can hold my own. So if you want me to do this, I will do it. And we will win. But if you’d rather look for someone else…” I shrug. “Be my guest. I’ll just go back out to the reception desk and get on with the business of becoming an independent sales rep for Bright Berry Beach.”

Huck snickers at my goal.

So I turn to him, point my finger at him. “You know what? Laugh all you want. But that’s why I came here. And I was excited about it. I could be happy being some normal, middle-class girl who wears pink skirt suits and sells lipstick by organizing online parties. It sounds like a fucking dream job after what I’ve been doing for the past fifteen years.”

“Sorry,” Huck says, holding up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

I look back at Joey. “I can do this. I’m very good at what I do. So… up to you, Mr. Boston. Do you want my help or not?”

He thinks for a moment, then says, “Were you really a Frisbee champion?”

“Do you think I was a Frisbee champion?”

Huck laughs.

“What’s-her-face said ‘dingo’ in her answer and my mind thought, Dogs. So then I just made up a story about dogs. BoBo was a real dog I knew once. And I did go to the park last weekend and talk to some random kids as I was waiting in line to buy myself an ice cream cone. If you mix the lies up with the truth it comes off better. I learned that a long time ago. So now, after a lot of practice, I’m a champion liar. For better or worse, that’s my God-given gift.”

Then I tsk my tongue and look at Joey. “Remember when we met? What city was that in?” I look at Huck.

“Uh…” But he catches on quick. He might be a bulldozer, but he’s not a meathead. “Singapore.”

“Right.” I snap my fingers. “We were at the gardens in downtown. Standing on that little bridge looking down into that koi pond. And we started naming them. We didn’t know each other. Two strangers on a bridge looking at fish. And I said, ‘Spot. I’m going to call him Spot.’” Then I look at Wald and laugh. “Because of course, he was spotted. White and orange and a little bit of cream under his fins. And you”—I point to Joey—“were throwing fish food into the water. You can buy little capsules of fish food from machines on the other side of the bridge. You said, ‘I’m gonna call this one Fatty. Because he gets there first every time.’”

Joey smiles. And I know he’s picturing this lie I’m telling in his mind like it’s real.