BooksBarbecue
Back Welcome to the Game
Chapters (57)
  1. Welcome to the Game
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraphs
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. Six months later . . .
  56. Acknowledgments
  57. Back Cover

“Hey, man, I was starting to take things personal. Been like, missing my British bro. You closed up shop. What’s been happening?”

Vincent placed his Bose headphones on the table, sat back, and fluffed his dreadlocks over the back of the Starbucks couch. He could be found there most days, working on his Mac, perfecting the post-production on his latest track while taking orders on one of three phones.

One or more of those phones vibrated intermittently as Spencer gave him an update based on what the guy needed to know. Vincent tried to figure out where Spencer’s buddy came in: older guy, didn’t look so well, or like a potential customer, but hell, you never could tell.

“We need your acting skills, Vincent,” said Spencer.

“And lest we forget,” added Chris, “I need to buy a wrap.”

Just never can tell, thought Vincent.

39

39

Fooled by the Fool?

When Spencer got out of his throatier-sounding Subaru in the loading bay early Thursday afternoon, the guys were of the mind that they were looking at a dead man walking, but one too stupid to realize it.

McGrath looked up from his desk to see him in the doorway, sporting a fine black eye, some serious bruising, and a missing tooth.

“I didn’t tell him to do that,” McGrath said, waving him to a seat. “Neither did Johnny Boy. The Yo-Yo, he’s—”

“Someone you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley, yeah, I know, Dom. I guess Lonnie found that out too.”

Experiencing this type of situation with a clear head for the first time, Spencer saw what a fool he’d been to think he could ever have played this man before getting clean.

McGrath got up, walked around, and sat on the corner of the desk. He leaned in to talk to Spencer as he would to a young grunt with potential who’d screwed up. “Spencer, last week? A misunderstanding. Lonnie? A favor. There’s no reason you couldn’t go back to doing the rounds for us.”

The two of them looked at each other, both wondering who was fooling who.

“You know it costs a couple hundred grand to set up a dealership in Chicago?”

“Serious green.”

“I’m going to do this gig for you tomorrow, so I was hoping your offer still stood. I mean, everything you’ve said you’d do you’ve done, right?

“You’ve got to earn it first.”

“None of us might be around after tomorrow. But my daughter will still be around. Forget the dealership. Give me a little up front. Fifty grand. If you’re confident about tomorrow, that saves you a lot of money.”

McGrath’s face had never looked so hard, so dangerous, and yet not out of its depth. It was Spencer who’d moved up a level in the art of dealmaking.

McGrath took the piece of paper Spencer offered him.