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“I’m not your psychologist anymore. You do whatever you want.”
“Hey, guys, we’re just having some drinks to celebrate a friend,” Henry said.
“That right?” one of the guys asked. “We’re not worried about you. What’s with this fat guy in a suit?”
Another peanut flew through the air.
It hit Bobby square in the head.
He stood up.
All three guys stood up.
“If you don’t help him, he’s going to get his ass kicked,” Anna whispered to me.
“Oh, so now you want me to fight someone?”
“Just don’t throw anything through a window,” Anna said. “I want you to take me home soon.”
I stood up next to Bobby.
“Christ, really?” Henry called out.
“Joe, I don’t know how to fight,” Bobby confessed.
“I figured,” I said. “Want me to beat them all up for you?”
“No,” Bobby said. “There’s a beautiful side of being rich. And having no shame. And being me.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“Sit back down, Joe.”
I sat down.
Anna grabbed my hand.
“We doing this, fat man?” one of the guys called out.
The rest laughed.
“We are doing this,” Bobby said.
He took out his phone and placed a call.
Not even thirty seconds later, three guys dressed in all black came rushing into the bar.
These guys were massive.
Bigger than Atlas and I put together.
“Holy shit,” one of the guy at the other table said.
Bobby sat down. “There. No need to lift a finger when you have private security.”
“How?” I asked.
“I have security on call anytime I’m near you, Joe. Just in case.”
