“Even so, Steve,” Lenny said, “what they’d do in the old days was calculate the size of the sections according to seating capacity, which made it kind of hard for the Board of Health to enforce the regulations. The inspectors would have to come in and count heads to make sure there were no violations, you know what I’m saying.” He shrugged again. “Meanwhile, the people that ran the places would cram the tables so close together, the guy at the next table practically would be sitting on your lap ...”

“Or gal at the next table, to look at the positive side...”

“Whatever.” Lenny snorted. “The point is—”

“That I just finished eating a delicious lamb stew, and have a fresh Macanudo tucked away in my pocket, and want to smoke it to round out my dining experience,” Bailey said, brushing a hand through his frazzle of white hair. “At fifty years old, with a prostate that’s bigger than a basketball, I don’t have many ways left of having fun. A guy deserves some slack, Lenny.”

Lenny looked at him. He figured that was about as perfect an opening as he could have asked for in a million years.

“That reminds me.” He reached into a pocket of his sport coat, pulled out a slim envelope with the Madison Square Garden logo on it, and slid it across the table.

Bailey stared down at it, keeping his hands under the table.

“Jesus,” he said. “What the hell’s that?”

“A little gift, Steve. From the New York Knickerbockers to me, and me to you.”

“The Knicks?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Jesus.” Bailey swallowed, one hand appearing and reaching for the envelope. He picked it up gingerly, almost as if it were hot to the touch, then lifted the flap with his fingertip and peeked inside.

His eyes widened.

“Jesus,” he repeated for the third time, his head wagging from side to side. “This is a goddamned season pass.”

“Well, partial season, technically, being as it’s already January,” Lenny said. He glanced at Bailey. “Why’re you shaking your head?”

“I’m not shaking my head.”

“You are,” Lenny said. “If you don’t like my gift ...”

“Of course I like it, you know I do, how the fuck could I not? But being that Christmas is over, and you don’t know my birthday, there’s got to be some other reason you’re giving this to me, and I’m not sure I want to know what it is.”

“You wound me, Steve.” Lenny used his fork to slice off a wedge of the blueberry cheesecake he was having for dessert. “The pass is yours free and easy, just because we’re friends.” He grinned. “Of course, now that you mention it, there is something you ...”

“I didn’t know I’d done that.”

“Done what?”