The Steel Kiss

Nick knew he had a lot to learn about the restaurant business. Still, he felt good about the prospect. He really hoped Vittorio Gera would come through and accept his offer.

Freddy tapped Nick’s arm and directed him to a booth in the back, where a skinny guy in jeans and a black T-shirt under a checkered brown sport coat sat sipping a Sam Adams from the bottle. He wasn’t using the frosted glass the waitress had brought and the empty mug was sweating.

“Stan. I’m Freddy.”

“Yo.”

“This’s Nick.”

Hands were shaken and Nick sat down opposite Von, who had thick black hair that could’ve used a shampooing and trim. His right palm, Nick had felt upon the clasp, was callused. Wondered what his job was. Knuckles red. Maybe he boxed; he had the muscles for it. Nick the cop made observations like this. Nick the prisoner had too. He wasn’t going to drop that instinct now that he was neither.

Nick scooted over so Freddy could join him on his side of the booth. But Freddy said, “I gotta make some calls. Be five, ten minutes. Leave you guys to it.”

“You know what you want to eat?” Nick called.

“I don’t care. Burger. You guys order. Don’t wait for me.” He fished his phone out and headed to the front of the restaurant, punching in a number. He smiled as he struck up a conversation with the person who’d picked up. Some people did that, smiled or frowned when talking, even though the guy on the other end of the line couldn’t see them.

“So, you and Freddy go way back?” Von was reading the menu like there’d be a test later.

“School.”

“School.” Von’s voice seemed to hint that that was a waste of time. “You drive cars, Nick?”

“I…  You mean as a job?”

A laugh. “Naw, just you drive cars?”

“I can drive. I don’t have one.”

“Yeah?”

“Really.”

Von laughed once more, as if that were the funniest thing in the world.

“What’re your wheels?” Nick asked.

“Oh, whatever.” And Von went back to the menu.

Nick too looked it over, wondering what would be the fastest thing to order. He wanted this to be over soon. Wasn’t Von’s bizarre personality. Well, it was partly that. Mostly Nick’s gut told him that, despite what Freddy’s homework showed, Von might be connected or whoever he worked for was, and one or both of them might have a record. That was a no-fly zone for Nick, a violation of his parole. He didn’t want to ask Von because, if the answer was yes, then he’d know for certain. He wanted to tell his PO that he’d had no clue.

Best get the info about J and Nanci, buy the guy the best steak on the menu and shut up to let him eat it as fast as possible. Then get the hell out.

But even with the urgency there were the rituals that had to be obeyed, of course. The men chatted about sports, about the neighborhood, about business, even the goddamn weather. Von kept laughing at things that made no sense to laugh about. “There’s a high-rise going up where the Knights social club used to be. You believe it, son-o?”

That was worth a yuk or two.

Nick caught the waitress’s eye and she approached. “We’re ready.”

Von ordered a salad to start, extra Thousand Island dressing, and chicken Parmesan.

Nick got a burger. “Rare.”

Von gazed at him with grinning astonishment. “You’re not worried, worms and shit?”

Nick, gripping patience tightly, said, “I’m not worried.”

“Suit yourself.”

“No fries.” Nick said.

Von blinked, reared back. “You’re fucking crazy. They’re great here, the best. I mean, the best.”

“Then I’ll take ’em,” Nick said.

“You won’t be regretting it, son-o. Bring him a salad too. He needs a salad. Same dressing.” A grin as he turned to Nick. “They make their own here. You could call it Two Thousand Island, it’s so effing good.”

Nick smiled back coolly and ordered the same thing for Freddy. “Two beers.”

“And me, top her off, Lucy,” Von said, tapping the beer, even though the woman’s name tag read Carmella.

Nick said, “Thanks for doing this.”

“My boss owes Freddy. You notice?” Von’s voice dropped. “He looks like a frog?”

“Never did, no.”

“He does. Well, glad to help. Only I don’t know how helpful it’s gonna be.”

“You know Flannigan’s?”

“Did some work at the place last month. You handy?”

“Some. I can do electrical. Plumbing.”

“Plumbing?” A laugh. “I frame like a motherfucker. I was framing there, Flannigan’s. Old man Flannigan gave me a bonus. Pretty sweet. Said it was the best framing he’d ever seen. Anyway, I started to hang there. I got to know some people, the bartenders, the staff.” Von didn’t bother to lower his voice now. “They’re all right. They’re us, you know. Not from some other countries, like you see in a lot of places.” A nod toward Lucy/Carmella.

An urge to wash his hands lapped at Nick’s spine.