Too Close to Home

Another laugh. “You’re a straight shooter, Jimmy boy. I’m not counting on your vote, but I was wondering if I could count on your discretion.”

“Discretion?”

“When you’re mayor, well, you can make an ass of yourself the odd time and get away with it. Believe me, I know. But on the national scene, particularly when you’re from a state like New York, not some bumfuck state no one’s ever heard of, like North Dakota-”

“My mother was from North Dakota,” I said. She wasn’t, but what the hell.

“You know what I mean,” Finley said, not offering to apologize. “My point is, when you’re on the national scene, that’s a hearse of a different color.” He looked at me to see if I liked his spin on a shopworn cliche. I gave him nothing. “Anyway, you start running for Congress, people start digging into your past, start asking questions. They start talking about character.”

“You should be okay there, Randy. You’re quite a character. Ask anybody. Ask those unwed mothers whose rug you puked on. I’m sure they’d back you up on that.”

“Yeah, well.” Finley almost blushed. “That was unfortunate. I’m gonna drop by and see Gillian in the very near future and give that home a big fat fucking grant. May not shut up their whining babies, but it ought to shut up their mothers.”

“There should be some sort of award, Randy, for the good works you do,” I said.

“So anyway, what I wanted to know was, could I count on you to be discreet should anyone come sniffing around asking things about me?”

“Discreet about what?”

Finley did half an eye roll. “Look, there were times, while you worked for me, when I was not on my best behavior. But I’m not that person anymore. I’m a different guy. That guy you worked for, that guy, he doesn’t even exist anymore.”

“Good to know,” I said.

“So all I’m saying is, if someone was to come asking what kind of guy I was to work for, could I count on you to say the right thing?” When I didn’t say anything, he continued, “I mean, we’re square, right? You kept things to yourself, and I didn’t go charging you with assault. A lot of guys, they’d have had your ass thrown in jail for what you did.”

Lance interrupted. “You never should have called him at all that night, boss. You should have just called me. Then nothing woulda happened.”

“Maybe,” I said to Lance, “if you hadn’t set up Randy here with jailbait, nothing would have happened then either.” I turned to Randall Finley. “And as for you, you can’t be serious, thinking you were doing me a favor when you didn’t press charges? Think of the witnesses you’d have had to call. How old was that girl? And her friend in the hallway? They’d have had to get permission slips to skip class so they could testify.”

“Here’s the thing,” Finley said. “I could find you a job, Cutter. Working for me, on my campaign.”

“Hey,” said Lance, “you’re not giving him his old job back, are you?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Lance, would you just fucking drive?”

“What? I’m supposed to pretend I can’t hear?”

“Jim, ignore him. What I’m proposing to you is some other kind of job in my campaign. There’s plenty of work to go around. And you’d be paid well. A lot more than I’m sure you’re getting cutting people’s lawns, for Christ’s sake. What the hell’s happened to you? Have you no pride?”

I wanted to tell him that if I had no pride, I’d still be working for him, but I didn’t have to justify my life to him or anyone else.

He wasn’t done. “Driving around in a silly truck, doing that kind of work, it’s totally beneath you, Cutter. You’re a capable man with a lot of skills. You know how to deal with people. You have great instincts. You’re not easily flustered. I like that. And that business, punching me in the nose, water under the bridge. It’s like it never happened.”

To Lance, I said, “Can you take me back to my truck?” To Randall Finley, “Look, I don’t care what you do. Run for whatever you want. I don’t have anything to say to anybody.”

“You’re a stand-up guy, Jim.”

“Because if I told people what sorts of things I’d witnessed, I’d have to explain why I worked for you as long as I did. And I don’t know how I’d do that. So you don’t have a thing to worry about. And as for the job offer, I’ll pass. I like what I do. I like working with my son. I can look myself in the mirror at the end of the day.”

Finley nodded thoughtfully. “I can’t ask for anything else,” he said. “You don’t want to work for me, I accept that. And I’m grateful for your discretion.”

“That girl,” I said. “The one in the room. What ever happened to her?”

“I don’t know,” Finley said. “Never saw her again. I cleaned up my act after that night, Cutter. Swear to God.”

I could see my truck up ahead. The town car slowed and pulled over to the curb.

Finley extended a hand. Shaking it seemed to take less effort than refusing it, so I gave him mine. I tried to tell myself I wouldn’t be compromising my principles if I didn’t squeeze too hard. While he was pumping my hand, Finley said to Lance, “Go around and get the door for Mr. Cutter here.”

“Huh?” said Lance. “You kidding?”