In Between Days by Andrew Porter

Author:Andrew Porter [Porter, Andrew]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780307961075
Google: qKE4dq66h6EC
Amazon: B007MGS0J8
Barnesnoble: B007MGS0J8
Goodreads: 13536765
Publisher: Knopf
Published: 2012-09-04T04:00:00+00:00

7

TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS. That’s all he needed. And now Brandon is telling him that it wouldn’t be that hard to get it, or at least half of it, if he was willing. They are standing behind the counter at Café Brasil, both of them working the late-afternoon shift, the sunlight from the cloudless Houston sky forming patterns along the walls, the sounds of Belle & Sebastian filling the room. The café is empty, or nearly empty, just a few out-of-work slackers scribbling feverishly in their notebooks, smoking cigarettes.

He’d just have to meet the guy, Brandon tells him, at his hotel downtown, have a few drinks, maybe dinner, and then spend the night with him. He wouldn’t have to do anything that made him feel uncomfortable, he says. He could set the parameters from the start. Make the rules. The next day he’d wake up, and he’d have half the money he needed in his pocket, all for a night’s work.

“And what about the other half?” Richard says.

“This guy isn’t the only guy I know in Houston.” Brandon winks.

“But I need the money by tomorrow night.”

Brandon nods. “I could lend you the rest. You know, you could pay me back over time, in installments.”

“What are you my pimp now?”

“You don’t have to make it sound so crude,” Brandon says. “Really, it’s just business. You’d actually be surprised by how businesslike it is.”

Richard looks at him, nods. It seems crazy to him that he’s even considering it. If Chloe hadn’t seemed so desperate, so afraid, if she hadn’t held him so tightly when she’d asked, if she hadn’t cried, he wouldn’t even be considering any of this. But what else could he do? What other options did he have? If his mother hadn’t lent him the money, his father sure as hell wouldn’t. And what did he have in his own bank account? Maybe a thousand at the most, which he’d already promised her and which she’d already told him wasn’t nearly enough. He wishes she’d told him why she needed it. All she’d said was that this was more important to her than anything else she’d ever asked him for, and he could see in her face when she said this that she meant it. He’d told her not to worry, that he would take care of it, but he wonders now why he said this. What made him think that he could raise two thousand dollars in a day and a half?

“Let me ask you a question,” Richard says after a moment as Brandon stands in the corner, refilling one of the stainless-steel containers with cream. “Why do you work here?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean, if you can earn that type of money in a single night, and you don’t care about it, why do you work here for minimum wage?”

“Tax purposes.” Brandon smiles.

“Right. Tax purposes.” Richard laughs. “Seriously.”

“Seriously?” Brandon says. “Seriously, it’s not like I do it all the time, you know. I mean, maybe once a month, sometimes twice, if I really need a little extra.

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