"Amalia says to thank you for the beautiful flowers and she wants to have you guys over to the house for menudo some Sunday as soon as she's feeling up to it." He sets my drink in front of me with about ten umbrellas in it. More laughter emanates from the permanently effervescent Megan.
She's starting to amuse me.
"Hey thanks Tonio! We're there." I say, fishing the umbrellas out of my drink.
"Excellent! Dude, are these Cuban?" Mike asks as I hand him his cigar.
"Dominican Republic," I reply. "But the company founder started out making them in Cuba so it's as close as were gonna get big guy. Let's save these for the party." I slide it into my breast pocket and pull out my Sampoernas.
"Ooh. Are those cloves?" Laurel asks after I finish lighting up.
"Yes they are. Would you like one?" I reply as I offer her the pack.
"Yes, please."
I offer one to Megan but she doesn't smoke.
Mike fumbles for his lighter but my trusty Zippo is fired up in a flash. I slide it down the bar towards Laurel and it stops right in front of her, the blue-orange flame still dancing. Mike gives me daggers. He hates being shown up.
"Why don't we all sit in a coffee house with our lattes and read poetry while we�re at it. I think I've got my bongos in the car." Mike says sarcastically. "How can you guys smoke those things anyways? They're really harsh." he says, pulling out the last Marlboro Red out of his pack and taking the light I offer him.
Laurel speaks while flagging Tonio for an extra ashtray. "I like them. They're very sweet tasting, especially these. I don't ever smoke regular cigarettes but I'll always have a clove if they're around."
"I'm the same way." I say, stealing the ashtray from the group next to us and handing it to her. Mike gives me the look, which tells me I'm neglecting my duties and not paying enough attention to Megan. I guess I'd feel a lot more capable of entertaining her if I could see more of her than just the top of her head.
"Excuse me," I say to the suit on my left. "My wife here is pregnant. Do you think you might be willing to let her have your stool?" The guy is all too happy to score some chivalrous gentleman points in front of his date and gladly gives up the seat which I offer to Megan who is yet again, beside herself with laughter.
"Oh my God! I can't believe you said that! Oh my God! That was so funny! Oh my God!"
"Tonio, can I get a glass of water for the young lady please?" I'm now hysterically funny and a gentleman. I'll lay you odds she's doodling "Mrs. Megan Connors" on her notepad before noon tomorrow.
I start off with the usual "What do you do?-where do you work?-how do you like it?" bullshit. I find out she works in the County Records office and is studying to be a court reporter. Later, I discover Laurel is a paralegal and in her third year of law school. Leave it to Mikey to instinctively hone in on the better meal ticket.
The happy-hour crowd turns and our favorite booth opens up. It sits behind a partition at the back of the bar and once you're seated, no one can tell you're even back there. Laurel and Mike contort themselves into one corner while Megan and I take the other side.
While completely covering the Bears, the Sox, the Cubbies the Bulls, the Sting and the Blackhawks, I can tell that Mike is discreetly fingering Laurel all through the entire conversation. This is his big trick and some women are so good at hiding their reactions that I sometimes can't tell if he's doing it or not. Laurel is not one of those women. All her cool elegance displayed up to this moment has completely left her as her face randomly changes colors and she forgets her words mid-sentence. As I have no plans to make Megan change colors and the odds of her diving under the table to suck me off are pretty remote, she'll have to content herself with leaving her little perky hand on my thigh. For all her earlier ebullience she's apparently shy in that department. Just as well. One slut per table is plenty I always say. Every few minutes Mike looks right into my eyes and gives me his best shit eating grin as if to say, "Look what I can do!"
Mike, not wanting to break his newly made connection, fishes out a couple of dollar bills from his wallet with his free hand, tossing them in my direction. "Do me a favor, huh Grayce? Get me another pack of smokes from the machine will 'ya?"
"No problem." I reply, as I attempt to extricate myself from the vice grip of the sticky vinyl booth. Megan is apparently grateful for the opportunity to stop laughing at my attorney jokes for a few minutes. I slide out of the booth and head on up to the front of the bar where the machine is. One of the firm's associates passes by on his way out while I'm feeding the dollars into the machine and we chat briefly. By the time I turn around to head back, the girls, coats and purses in hand, stop by me on their way out.
"Nice meeting you Grayce. Hopefully we'll see you later O.K.?" Laurel says as she leaves. Megan just giggles a wistful little goodbye on her way out.
As I reach the table, Tonio has just set down our fourth drink.
"Muchachos, these are on me o.k.? O.k.!" he says as he leaves. I hand Mike his smokes.
"You forgot the matches."
"What the fuck you need matches for? You have a perfectly good lighter."
