Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

Klempner - Twenty-Six Years Ago

The bar is still dressed for Christmas, but at the far side of the room a girl is taking down green and red foil decorations from a tree while a man in blue overalls reaches from the top of a ladder with a screwdriver, fiddling in an electric box, looking back as coloured lights flicker on then off again.

Behind the bar, Angelo is doing his ‘forever work’ of polishing glasses…

“What’ll it be, Larry?” He reaches towards the bottles…

“Just a coffee. It’s a bit early.”

“Coming up.”

To the hiss of steam from the kitchenette, Frank arrives, briefcase in hand.

“Hi, Larry. Happy New Year.” He glances at his wrist. “Not late am I?”

“Not at all. I just arrived myself.”

As we seat ourselves, Angelo arrives with my coffee. “What are you having, Frank?”

“I’ll have a beer. Thanks, Angelo.” He lays the briefcase on the coffee-table starting to click it open…

“Not just now.” I nod towards the door.

He follows my gaze, frowning as he puts the case to one side and Mitch sashays in.

As beautiful as ever, she’s wearing a dress in that shade of green that suits her so well. Classically cut, it suggests her perfect figure without displaying too much of it…

And she’s wearing that fucking necklace that Conners gave her.

“Hi, Mitch. Good holiday?” Angelo holds up a box of tea bags. “Your usual?”

She flashes teeth. “Yes, great holiday.” Then, “And yes. Mint please.”

Mitch undulates over, settling on the couch between me and Frank. “Hi, guys.”

“Hey, Mitch. Great to see you.” Frank breaks into a broad smile, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. “Happy New Year. I was beginning to think you were never coming back.” He jerks a thumb at me. “Did he give you a good time?”

“Hi, Frank. Yes, we had a wonderful time. It was the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

He looks a bit blue at that. Angelo arrives with a tray, setting down beer and tea, then vanishes behind the bar, to return a moment or so later. He dumps a large flimsy cardboard box on the table, the kind a baker might use.

“Old Mr Vacarrelli called by,” he says to Mitch. “I did explain to him that you weren’t working again yet, but he’d brought them with him and he said Happy New Year and we should share them between us. But that if you changed your mind, you should give him a call.”

“Er, right. Thanks.” There’s a touch of pink at her cheekbones. “No, I’m not working yet, and I don’t think I have my phone book with me anyway.”

He thumbs across the room. “You left it in the back there before you left.”

“Fine. Thanks.”

“What’s in the box, Mitch?” I sip my coffee. “Dare I ask?”

She sips at her tea, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Let’s just say that not all of my clients want the same thing.”

My cup hovering half-way to the counter-top. “Really?” I eye the box.

She’s actually blushing…

a professional

hell

exchanges frowns with me then, scratching at the back of his head, weighs in. “C’mon Mitch. I know you’ve got client confidentiality and all that, but we’re all grown-ups

him a foxy look. “You think? Okay…” she sets her teacup down on its saucer. “He’s an old guy. He had a good marriage but he was widowed some years ago. He’s not forgotten what it’s all about, but he’s pretty elderly and, well… He can’t…” She rocks her hands…. “You know… He’s lonely as much as anything and mainly he wants someone to talk to,

Cream cakes?

I both stare into the box. “Okay,” he says. “I give up.

to throw them at him,” she explains,

Wtf?

rubs the end of his nose. “Run that

have to throw the cream cakes at him. And for every one where I, um,

up.

been going

“About four years now.”

how much of a bonus

for every

you’ve become a fucking Olympic grade shot with

of six. It’s earned me a nice little

all he

again until the same time next week.” She offers

I meet eyes. “Think I’ll pass,” he

“Me too.”

the box

His face is bland. “Maybe another

“Ah, it’s great to have you back, Mitch. That’s the best laugh

“Just going to

I say, “You got those papers

you.” He fishes out a Polaroid camera and a dozen shots. “Just take

inside

“Yes, they’re fine…”

me speculatively… “I had to grease a few palms

me. I'll pay it

it here. I've listed the fees as disbursements.” He flicks through the sheets, returns to

through the collection, totting up the total, then reach for my cheque-book. To Frank’s

great doing business with you, Larry. A

across. “You deliver what I ask

But my life would be a lot easier if everyone paid on the dot like you do. Still…” He turns thoughtful. “… I should have the keys for you at the end of the week.

rate, I want somewhere to make my own,

that. You still want me to

elaborate. Cream and

thing? Put

the furniture sent over when you tell me it’s ready. But the

with me.” Frank’s gaze travels over my shoulder to where Mitch went. “Um… you

Are we?

not sure what that

Frank brightens.

fingers through each

have a photo,

Intrepid Trio?