'Tell me the rest, even though I know what it is.'
'Well, he came into the restaurant two days later- he called first and I practically had a heart attack-'
'Did I see him?'
'You weren't in that night.'
'And?'
'Well, once I had him in the restaurant, I had him.' She nodded to herself in satisfaction, and I was touched by her need and vulnerability. Then she saw something in my face. 'Come on, I'm not your type. You like good women. Virtuous, dependable women.'
'You should've met my ex-wife.'
'I wish I had.'
'You would've liked her.'
'Would she have liked me?'
I thought about this. 'No.'
'Why not?'
Too confident. But I didn't say this aloud. 'So, did you see this guy again?'
'Yup,' Allison said, 'you could say that.'
'All the other pretenders are gone, then?'
'Yes.' She nodded and recrossed her legs the other way. 'Banished.'
An hour later I was at Table 17 when I looked up to see the owner, Lipper, in his wheelchair and accompanied by his nurse, an older black woman. He frowned as he passed me and paddled his feet on the floor to stop. 'You work for me?'
I shook my head. 'Just a loyal customer.'
'Ah, good, very good. You like steak?'
'Your hanger steak, especially.'
'Good.' Lipper edged closer. Hair whirlpooled in his ears, his bottom eyelids sagged forward pinkly. 'People still like steak.'
'Always will, I think.'
He threw a bony finger at me. 'I know you. Heard you were a friend of Allison's. Talk with her on my time, too. You're a lawyer, is that it?'
'I suppose.'
He showed a lot of old horse teeth at this. 'Last I heard, lawyers worked in law offices, but okay. Allison likes to keep her men nearby so she can keep an eye on them, heh! I've seen her over the years… she's got all the moves, let me tell-' He looked around the room, as if hearing someone suddenly call his name. 'Yeah, anybody can serve a steak! You burn some cow meat and put it on a plate. Plus the city has a bunch of great steakhouses, right? There's Smith and Wollensky, and Keen's- what a beauty that place is- and Peter Luger's in Brooklyn. These places make a damn fine steak. But we're a little different, a little special. Sinatra owned this place for a while, back in the sixties. You know that? Lot of girls. Revolving pussy, I always called it. Pussy coming, pussy going.' I saw in Lipper the happy mouth-energy of the old, in which all thoughts rise to the surface unrestrained by propriety or forethought. 'We went out together a few times, me and Frank. Yeah, he saw this place, said he just had to have a place like that. I guess he might have sung here a few times-' Lipper poked at his testicles excitedly, as if trying to balance one on top of the other. 'I was a young man. We never advertise this place, see. Don't have to. We got it just right. Allison's very good. Of course her little room is illegal, her little show in there, I mean. She's very careful, never had a problem. She told you about it, right? She explains the whole story, gets them intrigued. I'm too old but I'd do it, too, if I were younger. Just to experience it. I know it's illegal. Who cares? Half the best part of life is illegal! Sue me, I always say. You going to arrest an old man in a wheelchair? Lock me away? You tell men you got a special room down there and it's like honey to the bees, guy- oh, she doesn't want me to talk about it. What was your name, Rogers? I had a doctor named Rogers, fixed my toes. Wait, I got to take a pill- I got this beeper thing that tells me-'
A black female hand appeared over his shoulder, graceful as a falling leaf, the tiny red pill floating on a soft, milk-chocolate palm. He plucked it up and clapped it into his mouth, where a thick tongue came down and swept it inward like the crushing device in the back of a garbage truck. 'I can swallow them dry. Okay, where washoney and bees… Sinatra, oh. Allison knows this. She knows more about men, studied them, I mean we got good selections, good cuts, heh. Lots of men. She's had a lot of them, too.' He leaned forward, dropped a knuckled paw on my arm and spoke conspiratorially. 'Let me give you some advice, son, because I see her paying attention to you. I see what's going on. You got a nice way about you, that's why I'm telling you this. I'm an old man, better listen to me. Don't fall for her. Right? I mean, don't give in, don't make a fool of yourself. She wants you to. She'll play with you, she'll find your weakness. Let her stew, let her get frustrated and emotional- that's when you put in the sword! Right? It's the guys who aren't interested who excite her. I've seen it over and over! The guys that come out and declare themselves, she can't stand them! Plays with them, tortures them! She's got some moves on her most men never heard of!' His eyes brightened wickedly and for a moment I glimpsed the charming younger man he'd once been. 'I had a rich guy suicidal for her once! I tell him, you can buy all the pussy you want, what's the big deal? He took my advice, went to the islands for few weeks with a bunch of little blond fluffy-muffies, heh! Allison, she never blinked. What does she care? I guess he got over it. What's your name again? Woodrow? Never mind, I'll forget, anyway… So that's the kind of place I run, simple as that. It's a special. I tell you Sinatra owned this place? Back in the sixties, in fact. Yeah, I bought this place back in the seventies, when you couldn't give it away! That's when I stepped in. Yes, stepped in and stepped up. I don't do any of the work anymore, just come and watch my babies eat and drink and have a good time. We had a lot of the greats in here, let me tell you. Wilt Chamberlain when he was in town, he had them lining up, they'd never seen someone like him before, Sonny and Cher, Joe Frazier- the boxer, Clint Eastwood, Redford, Billy Crystal, politicians, we had everybody, that guy Puffy Brush, whoever, heh. I just watch now. I don't need the money. I was a good businessman in my time. I did my deals, I signed in ink, baby. Not many people like that left these days! Everybody wants the cushion under their asses. Not me. I worked! I'm a fossil. Made of stone, heh. Parts of me still are. Don't look surprised. It still works! Two hundred milligrams of this new stuff they got and watch out. Once a month's all I need. I have a friend. She's very understanding, comes around my apartment. She's a certain age, okay? We like each other. She takes her time. Happy to lie down or just drink jizz.' Again the horse teeth, the squinting, amused eyes. 'We don't comment too much on human nature here, see. Accept human frailty- that's my philosophy. Shouldn't shock you. You'll be the same, I guarantee. I didn't age gracefully, and that's fine with me. My secret is the omega-three oils. Only the best, made from the littlest fishies! The big ones, tuna and swordfish, too much mercury.' He patted my arm urgently. 'I know you like Allison, they all do, I can see it in your face, I've seen you in here, fella. You hang on to your mustard, that's my advice. She's smarter than both of us put together. Back in the day I myself could've given her a-'
His old nurse bent close to him and whispered.
'Don't say that to me! You work for me, you-'
Without a word, she rolled Lipper away, and like a child in a stroller he accepted her judgment passively, not bothering to say goodbye, instead eager for his next encounter.
I might have found good reasons to worry in Lipper's monologuehis vague references to the illegality of the Havana Room, to Allison's romantic manipulations- but I didn't, and not just because his words seemed the harmless and even touching ramblings of an old restaurateur edging toward senility. After all, much as I liked Allison, I was not actually involved with her. Having been around awhile, she and I both knew that the other had at least the usual biographical complications. Sure, I was jealous that she'd found a new guy, but I was also just glad to see her each day, satisfied to watch her from a distance as she adjusted her glasses or slipped a bit of hair behind her ear, any of the lovely little things that women do, and if I had been asked if I was getting to know Allison at least passably well, I'd now have answered yes. Moreover, my hours at the steakhouse proved such a pleasant distraction from the rest of my time- in my horrid apartment, feeling guilty about Wilson Doan, missing my son, listening to my similarly doomed neighbors scrape up and down the stairs- that I had no reason to dwell on Lipper's egomaniacal rant.
But that began to change one cold night in late February, long after I'd finished my dinner, when Allison came over to Table 17.
'Going already?' she asked, standing before me, heels together, her voice a little nervy.
