“That bar is a church now.”

“Go figure.”

“Anyway, he gives us a picture of these two guys, and tells us what he wants us to do. Since I’d just got punked out on a job, he asks me if I’m sure I can handle it.”

“Hell yeah, I can handle it,” I told Andre that day. I was pretty sure that none of their kids would be hangin’ out with them at the bar. “The rest of the day, neither me or Bobby did much talkin’,” I continued tellin’ Angee, “which was rare for Bobby. Truth was, we were both nervous, especially since I had just fucked around and couldn’t kill Chicago.”

Angee’s facial expression changed. He put down his glass and looked at me. “You know, until you said his name, I forgot who he was and what that meant to you.”

“You are drunk.” Chicago was Cassandra’s father, and it was Angee who put me on to it ’cause I had no idea that they were related.

“I know that shit, Mikey.”

“You wanna hear this shit or not?”

Angee raised his glass. “Go ahead.”

“When we get to the spot, the guy won’t let us in.”

“Why not?”

“He said we looked too young to be in there, until Bobby said that Andre sent us. After that it was all good.”

Once we went in and sat down I asked Bobby, “What you tell him that for?”

“It got us in, right?” Bobby said. “And besides, Andre wants everybody to know it was him behind it.”

I couldn’t argue with his logic.

“Just relax. Have a drink and enjoy yourself,” Bobby said and stared at the lone naked dancer behind the bar. “You ain’t scared are you?”

“No! And don’t you start with me. I heard enough of that shit from Angelo.”

“Angelo.” Bobby shook his head. “Why you hangout with that guy anyway?” Bobby tolerates my friendship with Angee, but he never did like him, and wonders why I do.

“Angelo’s a good guy. Give him a chance. He’s gonna be a good guy to know,” I told Bobby that night and we waited.