Page 128 of Romeo & Antoinette

“Another?”

“Absofrigginlutely.”

As the bartender poured yet another shot, Cap looked over at Monty’s stand and took it all in. The people waiting in line, the self-satisfied smile

s of the staff, the fact that everyone here thought Monty’s was the big winner. That they were number one. That they were the best…

And he didn’t like none of it .

“Here you go.”

Cap grabbed the glass and brought it to his lips, but before he drank he spoke. “Tell me, what are your thoughts on provolone?”

“Provolone?”

“Yeah, provolone. You know, the cheese.”

The bartender took a step to his right and poured a glass of chardonnay for a red haired woman in a strapless dress. “It’s okay I guess.”

“It sucks,” said Cap. “Smells like feet.”

“I suppose,” said the bartender, being as noncommittal as possible.

“No supposing needed. It stinks and it smells like feet,” reiterated Cap, as he pushed off and headed on over.

It didn’t take long at all for Cap to cross the party. He was a large man with a long stride. A half dozen steps and he was there. He cut the line and stood directly in front of Monty. The narrow side of a folding plastic table the only thing between the two of them.

Tyler stopped his car up at the top of the hill, a couple dozen yards away from where the long drive down to the dock began. It was angled enough to give him a good view but secluded enough not to be seen. He threw the car in neutral, drained the last of his open beer, grabbed the binoculars his Uncle Joe had given him for his tenth birthday, and surveyed the scene.

It was quite the party. Well dressed swells, dining and dancing, smug in the fact that they all thought they were just that much better than everyone else.

“Oh look,” he said to himself. “It’s my dad. Oh, and there’s the Mayor on his little scooter. What do you know, he’s eating again.” Then he found Romeo and the rest of the Monty’s crew. “And there’s that Romeo guy and the gang from Monty’s. Don’t they all look so freakin’ special…”

He swung the binoculars wide, taking in the edges of the party. “And looky looky, the cops are here too… It’s my good friend Officer Cole…” he said to no one. “I just wonder what all of them would do if…”

He didn’t finish his thought. At least not out loud. Instead he slowly and unobtrusively turned his car around and drove off.

“What’s up Cap?” Monty said. He was never one to hold a grudge or look for a hard time. His wife did enough of that for the both of them.

“Shouldn’t you be out mingling?” Cap said snidely.

“Probably. But someone’s got to make sure the product is perfect.”

Cap picked up one of the small, white paper plates that lined the edge of the table. Folks were grabbing one or two at at a time at this point. Some were even coming back for thirds. On each plate was a mini cheesesteak. One of Monty’s mini cheesesteaks.

To be honest, it was pretty close to perfect. Tender rib eye, melted provolone, caramelized onions all on a roll that was just crispy enough on the outside and soft enough on the inside. Of course, Cap would never admit to that.

“This is it?” he said with a sneer. “This is the best you got?”

“That’s it.”

“Really? And you think that this lame looking excuse of a cheesesteak makes you top dog.”

“I don’t see you guys set up and serving at this party.”

“You know, you didn’t win, right? We won.”

“And yet here we are,” said Monty, spreading his arms and referencing the fact that they were standing and serving their wares here at the Mayor’s party, and Cap’s wasn’t.”

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