I didn't like the fact that the goon squad called me at Mocha Daze.
I waiting on one of the regulars -- Steve or something like that.
I had rung up his order and he was paying me, when the phone rang.
Hugo answered it.
"Mocha Daze," he said. "How can I help you?"
Hugo gave me a nasty look as he handed me the phone. I turned from the cash register to take the call.
"This is Mike."
"You got my money?" asked the angry voice of my dealer.
"I... uh... Can I call you back?"
"Five minutes. If I don't hear from you by then, I'll send Vince and Vick over for a cup of coffee."
Click.
I looked over at Hugo. He wiped the same spot on the counter a few times, doing his best to not look like he'd been listening in.
"I do not like those kinds of phone calls coming here, Michael."
I could have bullshitted Hugo.
I didn't.
Not with Hugo. He's been too straight with me.
"You got it. Give me a quick five and I'll take care of it."
"Five minutes. If you're not back by then. That thug won't be the only one you'll have to be afraid of."
I left the shop.
"All taken care of?" asked Hugo.
"Yep."
"Then get back to work."
I'd promised Dealerman that I would give him half of what I still owed him now and the other half next week.
He agreed.
At forty percent interest.
I'm gonna be in New York. He can stick his forty percent up his ass.
We closed and we were counting the receipts.
My drawer was twenty-five bucks short.
Hugo went ballistic.
I emptied my pockets on the counter, before he could ask me to. He waved his hand at me, said he believed me when I said I didn't take it.
It must have happened when I took the call. I think I left the register open
That Steve guy was at the counter. He could've taken it.
