The man behind the desk said, “Come on, come on.” Waved his hands at Jamie. “Sit down. Pull a chair up and sit down.”

Jamie said, “You Pompelli?”

“Yeah, I’m Pompelli. Vincent Pompelli.”

“Well, Vincent. I’m all right right where I am.”

Pompelli straightened his head. Looked at Jamie. Then looked at the man slouched in one of the chairs beside the desk. Looking at him, he said, “I’m just asking you to have a seat, we can talk, face-to-face.”

The man in the chair, Sammy, stretched one leg out and caught a leg of an empty chair with his foot and slid it over the carpet so it was right up against the front of the desk. Across from Pompelli. As he did this the two men behind Jamie took him by the shoulders and moved him forward and around the chair and began to press him down into it but he lifted his hands to them and touched them both, still watching Pompelli and they stood back and he sat. As he sat one of them moved behind him and eased his chair up tight to the desk like a waiter. He let that happen. He joined his hands and laid them up on the desk surface. Still looking at Pompelli.

“There now,” Jamie said.

“Aw, Pelham. Pelham.”

“I don’t see the problem, Vincent.”

“No?”

“No. All I’m doing I been doing a long time. But I’m small time. You know that. You already got my man. My market too, as much as I can see. The way I see it, all that’s just a tittle to you. You can shut me down, sure. But, I’m thinking, that’s what you wanted you would’ve already done it. Not waited for me to figure it out. So, I serve you someway. Just by being here. Some way that works for you and is best I don’t know nothing about, best for you and best for me. You’re a young man. And you’ve got this deal pretty well greased, that’s clear. So we can talk. Just don’t think I’m some old fuck you can jerk around. Things’ll work. Or they won’t. How’s that, Vincent?”

Pompelli nodded. As if agreeing. But he looked down into his lap. As if not sure of something. He took his hands off the desk and put them down into his lap. Seemed to be turning them over, studying them. As if to find an answer there. Then looked up at Jamie, not raising his head but tipping his eyes up. Almost a flirtation. Running his eyes over Jamie. Then he spoke.

“You think we can work together?”

“It could be.”

“No. I got to know. You think we can?”

“I think,” Jamie said, “we stop fucking around, we can likely work something out.”

Pompelli nodded. As if thinking this through. He smiled at Jamie. Straightened again in his chair. His voice still soft said, “Give me your hand.”

Jamie looked at him.