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my girlfriend.”

“You have a girlfriend?”

“Of course I have a girlfriend. Just because I'm fat andugly doesn't mean I can't get a woman. Remember, Crane, I'm also wealthy.”

Allen chuckled. “Nice.”

Allen scooped some eggs onto the plate that was originallyintended for Frankie, and then added two sausages. The toast popped up and hebuttered it. He put two more pieces of toast into the toaster, and then handedBobby his plate.

“Thanks, Crane. You're alright, even if ya did try to offme.”

“Any time,” Allen replied, giving Bobby his fork.

Allen fixed his own plate, only taking one sausage. Hetossed the other one to Frankie, who caught it in mid-air. He took a seat onthe edge of the bed.

“Is your brother fa—I mean, a larger man, as well?”

“You can say fat, Crane. It ain't a dirty word, and I knowI'm fat. Yes, my brother is larger … a little larger than me.”

Allen shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth, chewed, andswallowed. “You didn't just come for a visit, did you?”

“I would say this is a social call. I just wanted to let youknow that I spoke with my brother Wednesday. I didn't want to, but I did it foryou. You won't be hearing from him again. I was right, he just wanted to knowwhat you and me's dealings were about.”

“We didn't have any dealings.”

“That's what I told him. I told him you and me just got intoa little scuffle, and that we'd worked it all out.”

“And that you came here looking for something of yours thatyou thought I had.”

“I left that part out, Crane. And you'll leave it out also.Understand?”

Allen nodded. “I understand.”

“That asshole brother of mine don't need to know any morethan what he already thinks he knows.”

“Got it.”

“Good.” Bobby picked up both pieces of sausage with hisfingers and shoved them into his mouth at the same time. “Fwhat bran er deessaushage?” he asked with his mouth full.

“Jimmy Dean.”

“You ever buy the plastic tube of Jimmy Dean? They gotregular and hot.”

“Nope.”

“The hot is really good. You should try it sometime.”

“Thanks. I will. So, what was it you thought I had the dayyou came here?”

“It's none of your concern, Crane. I had something. I wentto the toilet, and when I came back, it was gone. Vinny said he didn't knowwhat happened to it, but I dragged his ass into the toilet to make sure.”

“And he didn't have it?”

“No, but you were sitting at the next table, so, I thoughtmaybe you had picked it up.” Bobby shrugged. “Don't matter anyways. The item inquestion wouldn't mean anything to anyone but me and Vinny. I'll chalk it downas a missed opportunity.” He lifted his plate and put the edge up to his mouthand gobbled down the last morsels of egg.

“Up.”

“What?”

“You said chalk it down. It's chalk it up.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

“I'll keep that in mind, Crane. I hate soundin' stupid whenI talk. Say, you ever write one of those autobiographies?”

“Nope.”

“You think you could write one about me?”

“You want me to write an autobiography about you,Bobby?”

“I was just wondering. Be nice for my kids to read some dayafter I'm gone.”

“You got kids?”

“Not yet, but I'd like to someday.”

“Your brother got kids?”

No, he can't have children. Bicycle accident when we waskids. It's a long story.” Bobby set his plate down next to Allen's laptop. Heleaned forward and looked at the screen. “How's the writing going?”

“It's gotten a lot better in the past few days.”

Bobby read to himself what he was looking at. It was a sceneat a lighthouse where the hero kisses the girl. “He gonna bang that chick?” heasked.

“Nope,” Allen answered. “She's going to drop him off at hismotel. They'll kiss again, and then she'll drive away.”

“I'd have nailed her,” said Bobby.

“Because you're wealthy?”

“Now you're catchin' on.” Bobby stood. “Well, I better getto the office.”

“Can I ask you a question, Bobby?”

“Shoot.”

“Where's your office?”

“York Street—right across from York House of Pizza.”

“That's handy.”

Bobby slapped his belly. “Too handy.”

Chapter Sixteen

After Bobby Jordan left, Allen tossed a couple more piecesof sausage into the frying pan, and scrambled up a couple more eggs forFrankie. He spent the next few hours writing, and then, around one o'clock,Allen slipped on his board shorts, grabbed a towel out of the bathroom, andheaded down to the beach.

Allen and Frankie hopped down the seawall's steps to thesand and maneuvered in and out of the many sunbathers.

“How's this spot, Frankie?” Allen asked, spreading out histowel.

He sat down on the towel Indian style, and Frankie ploppeddown beside him. Allen took out his cell phone and checked for messages. Thereweren't any. He wondered how long he should wait before texting Mya to tell herhe had a great time on their date. He wondered if he even had a cell phone thelast time he went on a first date. He did the math in his head. I must havehad one, he thought. Let's see, it's a little after one now. I'll texther at three. Three's good.

Allen removed his T-shirt and laid it aside. He clasped hisfingers behind his head and lay back on his towel. “Don't run off if I fallasleep, dog,” Allen warned. “Just stay put right here.”

He closed his eyes and was sound asleep within minutes, andwhen he reopened his eyes a half hour later, Frankie was gone.

“Goddammit,” Allen whispered.

He scanned the beach for his dog. There he was, chasing somekid's Frisbee down the beach. The kid, nine or ten, Allen guessed, ran afterFrankie, laughing as he tried to recover the plastic disk.

The kid's father stood nearby watching his son, and probablywondering who the asshole was who didn't have his dog on a leash. Allen got up,put on his T-shirt, and walked toward the man.

“Sorry about that,” Allen said to the guy. “I dozed off andhe made a run for it.”

“No problem,” the man replied, watching his son run afterFrankie. “As long as the dog keeps him entertained, I don't have to.”

“I guess I should be charging you for babysitting.”

The guy chuckled. “Probably.”

Allen looked back over his shoulder to make sure no one hadrun off with his

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