used to be Port City’s claim to fame… Pearl Button Capital of the World! Until plastic came along and the pearl button market fizzled. Dad sold out early, and we had enough money to maintain the house on the hill and he and mother lived comfortably until Dad died five, six years ago and Mother started needing medical attention.”
“Didn’t I see all this on a soap opera?”
“Oh eat shit, Quarry. Anyway, I sold the house, moved Mother and all her possessions into this cozy two- bedroom flat and put up a chunk of money for the place you know as Bunny’s. I also provided the concept of the place and my shady reputation as the Port City fallen lady who was nude in front of God and everybody, and my business partner provided the land and the rest of the money. Because his investment, as far as land and capital is concerned, was bigger than mine, his share of the profits is bigger. I want more of the money than I been getting. More, hell, I want it all. I’m the fucking Bunny! If he wants the money, let him pose bare-ass.”
“You’re going to try to buy him out, then?”
“Yeah, I been saving my share of the profits like a good little miser. And if I can’t buy him out, I’ll make him buy me out and I’ll build another club someplace.”
“Listen, I want to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“The pink Mustang. Where’d you get it?”
“It was a present. Back in my Bunny days. Maybe if I get to know you better I’ll tell you about it.”
“I’d like to know you better.”
“I know you would.”
“Is that right?”
“That’s right. This morning was no accident, was it?”
I choked on my bite of grapefruit. “… pardon?”
“This morning. You came around here looking for a way to get close to me, didn’t you? Don’t play dumb. I saw you a couple nights ago, at the club. I saw you staring at me.”
I grinned, more in relief than anything else. “I’m sorry. Couldn’t help staring.”
“A lot of men stare at me. Most of them stare at me like I’m so much meat, Grade-A U.S. government- inspected prime maybe, but meat just the same. You, you stared at me like you were staring at a woman.”
“You can really tell the difference, huh?”
“Sure can. I get that goddamn meat stare all the time. Almost every son of a bitch in Port City’s tried to get in my pants one time or another.”
“But you’re selective.”
“That’s right “
“Then let me ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“You won’t get mad?”
“Ask and see.”
“If you’re selective, what are you doing shacking with a freak like that one who tried to heist your wheels?”
She laughed. Her eyes laughed too, sparkled sort of. “I got a weakness for younger men. How old are you, anyway?”
“How old are you?”
“I’m thirty-two.”
“I’m younger.”
She smiled. She touched my hand. “Thanks for stopping that creep. I like that car of mine, I’m fond of it, it’s got sentimental meaning for me.”
“He was drunk.”
“Yeah, well, he sat around smoking pot last night and then he couldn’t get straight and I kicked him out of the bedroom, locked the sucker out, in fact. He must’ve sat up all night drinking up my liquor stock and planning his revenge.”
“I didn’t think he knew what he was doing.”
“Maybe he did. That was his band’s last night at the club, you know, and he told me the group was going to have to break up pretty soon, ’cause him and another guy had the drug rap hanging over ’em and the two of ’em were planning to hotfoot it to Canada. Maybe he got inspired and was going to drive my Mustang over the border.”
“Or maybe he’s gay and pink just appeals to him.”
“He just might’ve been, at that. Most men react pretty favorably to me, that’s the first time I can remember any guy having trouble.”
“Younger guys, huh?”
“Yeah. Younger guys, and guys moving through town, one-night stand things, you know? I like short relationships. Short and sweet. A long relationship to me is one that lasts a week.”
“Is that so? You steer away from the locals, huh?”
“Goddamn right. I like being on my own. Get involved with somebody around here and before you know it, I’d be into something serious. No true, deep abiding loves for me, thanks, I been stung by that shit before. No meaningful mature relationships with married men, either, I seen too many girls get shafted in the ear by that stuff. I like my relationships nice and shallow. One-night stands, yessir. And then there was my mother. When she was alive I couldn’t have men friends in, now could I? So it was motel rooms and backseats of cars and such. Little sordid, maybe, but it serves the purpose. I mean, everybody has to get their rocks off now and then.”
“I know what you mean.”
“What do you do for a living, anyway?”
“I’m a salesman.”
“Then of course you know what I mean. Your goddamn life’s a chain of one-night stands, isn’t it?”
“Isn’t everybody’s?”
She stopped for a moment, looked thoughtful, looked at me. “I wonder,” she said.
It was silent for a while, and just as the silence was getting to the awkward stage, I said, “This grapefruit is good.”
“You want another half?”
“Only if you do.”
“I do.”
“Okay then.”
She got another huge yellow softball and served it up and said, “Florida grapefruit.”
“Thought so. Really fine.”
“Yeah, girl friend of mine sent a crate of ’em up to me. Now there’s an example of what I was talking about.”
“Huh?”
“This girl friend of mine. She’s one who got involved with a guy, a married one at that, and she got shafted in the ear, as well as every other opening on her the son of a bitch could find. That’s one of the reasons I’m trying to get out of business with him.”
“Wait a minute… you mean the guy this girl friend of yours was involved with is the same guy you’re in business with?”
“Shit, I shouldn’t be talking about all this.”
“I’m from out of town, Peg, what do I know?”
“Well, see nobody in town knows about the affair between these two.”
“You know.”
“Yeah, I do, but the guy himself doesn’t know I know about it. Whew, confusing, huh?”
“Don’t stop now, you got me interested.”
“Well… okay. Shouldn’t hurt. After all, I’m not using names, am I? And if I did you wouldn’t know who I was talking about.”
“That’s right,” I said. Raymond Springborn.
“This guy I’m in partnership with, he’s a crackerjack businessman, terrific businessman, really, and fairly
