The Foundation

This Shyt Only Gets Better

 I pull the car into the valet. I grab my suit jacket off of the passenger seat. I start to wonder what Ria is doing. She hadn't called since last night. I also worried about the two women I left back in my office, hoping I would have an office when I got back. I hand the attendant a tip and my keys. He gives me back a ticket. As I make my way to through the casino to the restaurant, I do a mental inventory of my guns. I don't know what to expect from them. I do expect my 10 grand or somebody may die today. I then think about Ria again. I'm trying to truly figure out what I have done. I can’t believe she’s pregnant. That truly complicates things further. In my line of work, somebody knowing that you have a woman and child leads to a lot of shyt. In my case, it'll cause me to kill a lot of people.

I finally get to the restaurant. I walk past the hostess because I have already spotted Gates and his 'associates'. I notice Mr. Brown, and two other guys. I also notice a woman sitting next to Mr. Brown. No doubt she is probably Gates’ assistant or something. The councilman motions for me to sit down. I look over to Mr. Brown, who also gestures for me to sit.

"Good afternoon Mister Roman. Glad to see you're a prompt man. Before we get started, that black felt bag next to the candle is yours." Mr. Brown says opening this meeting.

I now notice the bag on the table in front of me. Obviously, it's my money. I pick it up and open it. What the fuck!  It's only 3 grand at most in this bag. I throw it back down on the table; visibly upset, I say, “Councilman, I don't think I need to tell you that this isn't what was agreed upon."

"Mister Roman," He says, and then does that throat-clearing thing, “I don't think we ever agreed on the amount to begin with. You told me to meet you here and bring ten thousand dollars, along with my Visa card. You then rushed me out of your office before I could truly say anything else."

He had me there. I did sort of demand the money, but still, I was not happy at what he gave me. Mr. Brown chooses to bring his 2 cents into this 'negotiation'.

"Gentlemen, it is quite rude to discuss money before eating. However Mister Roman, the three-thousand dollars is more than enough for the clean-up fee that your associate will charge for that botched pick up yesterday." He says, smirking at me. I should shoot his ass.

He was right, to an extent, because Sal is actually going to charge me 5 grand, I hope. With that being the case, then I need to really say something, because no way am I going to do this shyt for free. “Okay, the three goes for my associate's trouble that still leaves a balance for my trouble of getting your girlfriend to safety."

At this point, it’s obvious that Mr. Gates is no longer a part of this conversation because he is now looking at Mr. Brown. This all is really starting to piss me the fuck off. Mr. Brown sees this, yet still manages to agitate me more.

"For God's sake, Ice Cream Man. Are you truly thinking about shooting someone right here, right now? Surely, you are much more civilized than that. Take a look around; this is not the cafe at the Ellis Island. Look around some more; you notice that there are quite a few witnesses here. I see you have something to say, so say it before I will tell you how it goes down." He explains. I shoulda shot his ass yesterday.

"One, I will shoot anyone, anytime, anywhere. Two, I still expect my ten grand or I Miss Marchon's safety will be in jeopardy. I could care less about her, though Mister Gates may have different feelings. Three, I AM ALWAYS the one to tell YOU how it goes down. Are WE clear MISTER BROWN?" I respond, massaging the handle of the gun in my left holster inside my jacket.

Mr. Brown begins to laugh, as all his scrooges, and the young lady follow suit. The only two not laughing were the councilman and I. Mr. Brown stops laughing and gets serious. I now know a much winded speech is coming: