Page 95 of Now or Never

“Bail bond enforcer,” he said. “Vincent Plum Bail Bonds.”

“We met at Vinnie’s wedding.”

His eyes were laser focused on my breasts. “Nice dog you’ve got there.”

“He belongs to Bruno Jug.”

That got his attention off my chest. “What are you doing with Jug’s dog?”

“I’m stuck with him. Jug was FTA and when I brought him in this morning it turned out that no one would write a bond for him. So, Jug is in jail, and I’ve got the dog.”

“That’s a lucky dog. Is he going to get to sleep with you tonight?” This was said with a smile. Friendly banter from the middle-aged almost bald guy to the chick with big bulging boobs.

“I don’t want the dog. I want Jug out of jail, so he can reclaim his dog and I can get on with my life.”

The waiter brought Harry a dirty martini, three olives.

Harry extracted the toothpick with the olives from the martini and offered me an olive. I declined, so he ate one and put the rest back in his martini.

“Do you want something?” he asked me. “A drink? Lunch?”

“I want you to let Vinnie write a bail bond for Jug.”

“Not gonna happen. Jug should rot in jail.”

“I heard this vendetta started over the dog.”

“He brings the dog everywhere with him. The dog goes into the crapper with him. The dog goes to meetings. One day I had enough of the dog. The nasty little bugger pissed on my pants leg. So, I told Jug what he could do with his dog and that ended a business relationship that was never good from the start.”

“He chewed a piece off my jeans and ran into his house with it. Then Jug’s wife came out and shot a hole in the back window of my SUV.”

Harry looked like he loved this news. Eyebrows went up in elated surprise.

“The new wife? The bimbo?”

“Yes. She packed up and left over the hooker mess. That’s why I have the dog.”

Harry sipped his martini and went back to staring at my breasts. “Are you sure you don’t want an olive?”

“Let’s look at this from a different point of view,” I said to Harry. “Jug is sitting in jail because no one will bail him out. So, you come along, and he’s such a pathetic loser that you throw him some crumbs. And forever and ever Jug knows that he had to beg you to get him out of jail.”

“Jug is begging me?”

“In a manner of speaking. I’m begging you for Jug.”

“So, it’s like a pity fuck,” Harry said.

“Exactly!”

“I like it. I’ll do it if I can touch your boob.”

“No.”

“One finger. One touch.”

“No!”

I was regretting the toilet paper. I debated pulling it out and handing it over to Harry. He could touch it all he wanted.

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