Scores by Blutrich Michael D.;

Author:Blutrich, Michael D.;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BenBella Books, Inc.
Published: 2017-09-08T04:00:00+00:00

Finishing up the dessert I swore I wouldn’t order, I heard Andrew declare without prompt, “You know what, I ate too much. I’m so full I think I’m going to puke.”

In the flash of an instant, pure white anxiety streaked through my entire body, my heart hammering relentlessly. In a rush of understanding, I looked up in an effort to discern the immediate threat we must be facing. Where was the gun, the knife, the terror-inducing act that compelled Andrew to call out the emergency code?

But as my senses gathered, and my heartbeat slowed, there appeared to be nothing afoul. Sergio was happily imbibing his dessert wine, and Andrew was leaning back in his chair, arms akimbo, eyes closed.

Oh my God, Andrew’s just drunk. He’s forgotten the fucking code and probably really feels nauseated from overeating. Who would believe this shit? The code probably acted like some kind of a subconscious cue in his brain. The FBI is about to come crashing in, ending our cooperation, and our ticket out of trouble with it.

With my brain firing on overdrive, I pleaded with Andrew to recant. “You’re not going to puke, Andrew. Right? I hate when people say things like that when there’s NOTHING WRONG! Nothing at all.”

Sergio took no notice of the odd exchange, but Andrew was having fun. He leaned over and said, “No, Michael, believe me, I’m serious, you know when you eat too much and you feel like you’re going to puke! What are you worried about, your new car?”

Realizing it was a waste of time trying to awaken Andrew’s alcohol-repressed memory, I pushed my chair away from the table and leaned into the tabletop, my face next to the secretly transmitting beeper and six inches above my crotch. I whispered, “He’s drunk, guys. Ignore him, please.”

“What are you doing?” Sergio roared. “Talking to your dick, Michael? Does it talk back?”

Now Sergio and Pearlstein were uproariously laughing at the jibe. On the other hand, I was desperately trying to appear unfazed, feverishly looking from the doors to the windows and back, hoping not to see three armed FBI agents crashing through the restaurant to save me from two harmless drunks.

As the minutes passed and the restaurant remained eerily normal, I finally relaxed, cradling my head on the table in my arms.

“Are you OK?” Andrew inquired.

Lifting my head, I glared back at Andrew as if he were nuts. “I’m all right now, but I feel like I’m the one who’s gonna puke.”

Realizing what I had just said, I ducked back to my crotch and whispered, “I didn’t mean it either. Sorry.”

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.