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It was about twenty minutes of driving to get back to The O. The Miami traffic didn’t do much to shake off my uneasy feelings, but at least it gave me some real danger to concentrate on.
Every city has a style. You see it in the way people look at strangers on the street, you can hear it on the local talk radio shows, you can read it in the local papers. Cities have their own flavors, and I had just gotten a taste of Miami’s.
When I first came to Miami it had been like the kind of woman who is beautiful without any awareness of it, without consciously using that beauty on you. There was a freshness in the city, the hint that anything might be possible but whatever came would be good.
Now the city’s beauty was coarser. There was too much makeup, too much soiled arrogance in the good looks. The lovely woman had picked up the hostility of the relentlessly small-time, trying to prove herself major league. Miami had become a part-time hooker, the kind who calls her tricks “dates” and thinks of the money as loans from her many boyfriends. Under the mask of beauty and freshness, the smell of decay had already taken over. Every year the people are a little more sour; they drive like they’re trying to get revenge for something they don’t remember. Everybody on the streets is a target for the kind of petty meanness that makes you want to stand on the hood of your car and shoot out the street lights.
Still, South Beach is very nice, isn’t it? That is, if you can find a place to park, keep to well-lighted areas, and stay lucky.
I got to The O about fifteen minutes before the time I had agreed to meet Bud and his pal Oto. The inside of the bar looked like it had been sprayed in plastic to preserve it from last night. Nothing had changed. The same bartender stood behind the slanted, pitted bar. The same tough crowd slouched in the same positions at the same tables.
There was only one small difference tonight. Down at the far end of the bar, Bud’s stool was empty.
No big deal; there was time yet. I settled at the bar with a glass of beer, facing the rest of the room, keeping one eye on the door and one eye on everything else.
I finished the beer. It wasn’t the kind of place where you get up and dance to the jukebox, so I ordered another one. Bud was late. I looked around the room. Nobody looked back. I nursed my beer, taking tiny sips with a few minutes in between.
I finished my second beer and ordered another one. A few more and it wouldn’t matter if Bud came or not. I was living the high life.
There were a lot of reasons why Bud might not show up. It was possible that his drunk buddy was too drunk to navigate. Maybe his car wouldn’t start. He could have a 24-hour flu. And maybe PBS was showing Downton Abbey and he didn’t want to miss it.
Whatever the reason, after I’d had three beers I was pretty sure Bud was not coming tonight. I could play it safe and drink another beer, but then I might have to call Nicky to come down in a cab and drive me home.
I pushed away from the bar and headed out into the night. We hadn’t said anything about it, but I was willing to bet that Bud would show up tomorrow night. He might not have Oto with him, but he’d be back. This was his place.
When I got back to the hotel room, Anna and Nicky were sitting on opposite sides of the room, Anna on the bed and Nicky in the straight-backed chair at the little desk. They were just sitting, doing nothing. A stack of empty beer bottles was ranged around Nic
ky. As I opened the door their heads swiveled in unison to look at me.
And the nicest thing I had seen in a long time was the way Anna’s face lit up when she saw me. She jumped up and came to me, getting her arms around me before Nicky had the chance to do more than bellow, “Billy!”
I walked Anna back across the room and we sat down on the bed. “Well, mate,” Nicky said. “Was there any change?”
Maybe it was the three beers I’d had, but I didn’t get what he meant. “Change in what?”
He shook his head. “Change from the hundred dollars. Was there any left, or did he take the whole lot?”
I hadn’t even thought about Nicky’s money until now. I pried it out of my pocket and flipped it across the room to him. “It’s all there,” I said.
“Outstanding,” Nicky said. “Did he talk?”
“He didn’t talk. He didn’t show up.”
“Not at all?”
“Not even partly,” I said. “I drank a few beers and heard Achy Breaky Heart seven times. That’s it.”
Nicky frowned. Anna frowned. It looked better on her.
“And so?” Anna finally said.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I go back there tomorrow night and try again.”
“It’s a classic bargaining technique,” Nicky said. “Straight out of Sun Tzu. Keep ’em off-balance. Hold fast. Don’t go over a hundred dollars, no matter what.”
I looked at Nicky. He was serious. “You’re getting awfully attached to that money.”
“Aw, come on, it’s a hundred dollars.”
