Page 58 of Kane
He arrived at the café five minutes before the meet time with Ace. It gave him the chance to brave the line which curved almost all the way to the glass door. Who knew so many people spent their Friday night in a coffee shop?
The middle-aged mom in front of him gave Kane a wide berth. She wrinkled her forehead a little as she propelled her two kids in front of her, almost into the generous backside of the woman ahead. The boys squirmed to carve out a little more room, but their mother hemmed them in with her body.
He didn’t blame her; he probably looked like a nightmare. His ponytail reached the middle of his back these days and he’d wrapped a black bandana around the top of his head. No doubt his eyes were bloodshot since his churning brain refused to give him any peace last night. His beard had grown long and ragged. Top it all off with the scar across his face, and Ms. Middle Class probably saw a demon incarnate standing next to her and her kiddies. At least his long sleeves covered his tattoos.
He was used to reactions like hers. For the first time in a long time, though, it bothered him.
The line moved quickly, despite its length, and one of the kids was brave enough to wave at him as his mother ushered him out of the door. He’d just sat down with two lattes when Ace took the seat across the small table.
The guy had dressed a little more casually for this meeting than their last one, but his slacks and dark cashmere sweater still contrasted sharply with Kane’s flannel shirt and jeans. Ace tilted his head toward the two coffee cups. “Thirsty?”
He pushed one of the large mugs toward the club’s supplier. “I got one for you, but if you don’t like lattes,” he lifted his shoulder, “I won’t let it go to waste.” He plucked two packets of sugar from the black plastic square at the center of the table, tore them open, and dumped the contents into his cup. As he stirred, the rich fragrance of the espresso made his mouth water.
Ace chuckled and lifted a blue packet for himself. “I like lattes fine.” He sweetened his drink, then sighed in appreciation with his first sip. With his face relaxed and a smile playing on his lips, he looked like an everyday guy chilling out with a cup of joe. He could be someone’s neighbor or banker or realtor. Not the guy piping a shit-ton of heroin into the community.
But Kane was the guy the moms shielded their kids from. He swallowed down his indignation with a gulp of his coffee.
Setting his drink on the table, Ace gave him an assessing look. “You are one surprise after another, Mr. Hale. No one has ever asked to meet me at a cafe before.” He glanced around the crowded room, his eyes catching briefly on the dry erase board declaring:
EVERYTHING IS BETTER WITH CHOCOLATE. TRY A MOCHA TODAY.
“It’s a nice change of pace.”
No way did he want to go back to their last meeting place. For sure, he wouldn’t invite this guy anywhere near his own life, which left somewhere public. Someone might have recognized them at a bar or somewhere close to the neighborhood where they sold their product. He used to visit this little café when he was in college. No trace of the club life anywhere for miles.
But Ace didn’t want to meet to talk about any of those things, so he drank his coffee and waited.
When he offered no small talk, the soft look on Ace’s face sharpened. “All business, eh? I wanted to touch base with you on how things are going for the, uh, candy sales for the…church.”
Kane let out a small snort. “The candy sales,” he echoed. “They’re going well. The H—Halloween type stuff isn’t moving as fast as the crack—erjack boxes.” This shit took ridiculous to a new level. “I’d say we’ve probably sold half of what you gave us.”
“Half?” Ace blinked. “Quite impressive. You move faster than I expected.”
“Pretty basic supply and demand. No one’s been filling the void and people arehungry. We’ve changed the pricing system and expanded the distribution from the earlier operation…folded in some of the college bars. College kids love candy, too.” The club’s pretty boy, Frank, now sported a clean-shaven face and had a costume from American Eagle to wear when he hit the college bar circuit. He was bringing in cash, hand over fist.
Ace’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, they do, Mr. Hale. Kudos to you for considering it. I like the way you think outside of the box.”
Whatever. Becoming a successful drug dealer had never been high on his to-do list. “We’re also making some of our own stuff, and it’s moving pretty well. The ingredients are cheap. Not a lot of time in the kitchen, but it’s keeping everyone busy enough.”
“You don’t like it.”
He didn’t bother to lie. “No. It’s profitable, but it’s messy. The whole thing is messy, but cooking brings it to a whole different level. I can see why you don’t fool with it.” He drained the last of his latte. “It’s not up to me, though.”
Ace was silent for a moment, then spoke quietly. “What if it was?”
The man had said, himself, he was a businessman. The old-school variety, it seemed, with his own kind of code of honor. And he clearly saw something in Kane he found intriguing.
Dangerous as he was, something about Ace made him feel like he could speak freely. Maybe that was part of his skillset.
Walk into my parlor said the spider to the fly.
“If it was up tome, we wouldn’t be doing any of this. We’re tempting fate, and it’s going to come back and bite us in the ass. You seem like you let your guys speak their minds. My family isn’t like your crew. Dissent isn’t an option. And even if it were, my father would be the boss, not me.”
Ace spoke slowly. “You could come work for me.”
He barked out a laugh. “No offense, man, but the last thing I want is to fall down deeper in this rabbit hole.”
Thankfully, Ace didn’t seem ruffled by his honesty. He lifted his hand, palm up. “Get out, then. I barely even know you, and I can see you’d rather go straight, so do it. I can always find a new distributor.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “Take it from someone who knows firsthand. Your life is what you make it. If you don’t like it, make it into something else.”