“You never know,” I said, remembering how I was thrown out of the audition this afternoon.
“So did you come in here to talk about anything else?” Frank asked. “I have to finish looking over these books and then I have to go out and take care of a few things.”
“Actually, I was having a little problem and I thought you could help me out.”
“Help you out with what?” Frank said, like he knew what was coming.
“I know I’m a few weeks ahead on my salary already, but I was hoping you could, you know—shoot me a little advance.”
Frank was glaring at me.
“Are you gambling again?”
I was ready to say no—make up some story—but I couldn’t bullshit Frank. The guy had been like a father to me—the father I’d always wished I’d had.
“A little bit,” I said.
“How much is a little bit?”
“I just need a few hundred bucks,” I said, “for rent and bills and—”
“What are you trying to do,” Frank said, “screw up your life? Why are you wasting your time gambling? You’re how old now, thirty-two, thirty-three? This is the time you should be going all-out, trying to make it with your acting.”
“Look, I don’t need the speech, all right—”
“Then what will it take to get through to you? You always tell me you’re through gambling, you’re gonna give it up—”
“I have it under control.”
“Under control? Meanwhile, you keep blowing your money at the track, coming to me for advances, and you think you have it under control? How much money are you into me for? A thousand, two thousand? You’re a compulsive gambler, Tommy. You have a sickness—like drinking, like anything else.”
I stood up and said, “Look, if you don’t want to give me the money you don’t have to.”
“You have to learn your lesson eventually. Maybe this’ll be your wake-up call. Maybe you’ll start going to G.A. like you should’ve months ago. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to bail you out this time.”
“Fine,” I said.
“I’m doing this for your own good Tommy. You know how much I care about you. Maybe now you won’t throw your life away.”
I left Frank’s office and went to the bar. I poured myself a pint of Sam Adams. I was pissed off at Frank for being so tough on me when he was so soft on his wife, but I knew he was right about one thing—gambling wasn’t the answer. Whenever I was at the track or the OTB, around all those degenerates, I always felt like the world’s biggest loser.
But the only way to make money fast was to win it and I knew I could win ten grand. I just needed a stake to bet with and then I had to get on a little hot streak. My only problem was getting the stake.
It was a slow night at the door which gave me a lot of time to think.
At midnight, Janene showed up. Until I saw her walk into the bar I’d completely forgotten about our date tonight.
“You look great,” I said, and it was true. She was wearing tight jeans and a tight purple velvet top.
“Thanks,” she said. “So do you.”
We hung out by the door, talking. She asked me how my audition went and I said, “Okay.” She said she hoped I got the part and I said, “I wouldn’t bet on it.” I got off work early, around one-thirty, and Janene and I left the bar together.
“So do you want to go to a diner or something?” I asked.
“Are you hungry?”
“Not really, but I can always eat.”
“If you want we can just go back to my place—you know, to hang out and talk.”
Janene had had a couple of drinks at the bar and she seemed a little drunk.
“You sure you want to do that?” I said. “I mean I remember what you said last night about taking it too fast.”
“I was just being insecure,” she said, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “Don’t pay any attention to me.”
We walked toward her apartment, holding hands, stopping every once in a while to make out.
Her apartment was on the sixth floor at the end of a long hallway. It was a big one-bedroom, at least twice the size of my dump. There was even a living room with a white couch, a coffee table, a rug, and some other expensive-looking furniture.
As soon we got inside and Janene turned on the light, I came up behind her, putting my hands around her waist, and started kissing the back of her neck and under her jaw. She stood there for a while, letting me go on, then she moved away.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “It’s just...don’t you want to come inside for a tour first?”
“I figured you could give me the tour in the morning.”
I tried to put my arms around her again but she pushed me back and said, “I’m serious.”
She walked away into the living room.
“What’s the matter?” I said. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” she said. “It’s just...I don’t know...Forget it.”
“Hey, if you don’t feel comfortable with me here it’s no problem. I’d be happy to—”
“No, that’s not it,” she said. “Of course I want you to be here. It’s just, I was hoping we could sit down for a while, and talk and...I really have to go to the bathroom.”
“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
“No. Please. I’m sorry.”
I waited on the couch while she went into the bathroom. She was taking a long time. I wondered what I could have said or done to piss her off. There was a copy of House Beautiful on the coffee table and I started looking through it. Finally, she came out and said, “You want some tea?”
“I don’t drink tea,” I said.
“You want something else to drink? Coke, 7UP, water...?”
“I’m all right,” I said.
She turned on the stove, putting up water for tea, then she came back into the living room and sat next to me on the couch.
“I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting,” she said. “Really, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s just...”
“What? Come on, you can tell me.”
My hand was on her thigh.
“Well, it’s this, what you’re doing now—holding my hand. Touching me. Why weren’t you like this before at the bar?”
“What do you mean?”
“I tried to hold your hand a couple of times, but you kept pulling away. I was just wondering—are you embarrassed about me or something?”
I laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“That’s a good one,” I said. “Embarrassed to be with a beautiful woman like you.”
“Well, that’s how it seemed.”
“I was proud to be with you,” I said. “I wanted to be all over you at the bar, but I didn’t know if you wanted me to. I mean I remembered what you’d said last night about how we might be going too fast and—”
“Are you being honest with me?”
“Of course I am. What are you talking about?”
“Never mind,” she said. “I told you I was the one with the problem, not you.”
We started making out. She had her hand on my leg when she said, “So you got a new wallet, huh?”
At first I had no idea what she was talking about. Luckily, I caught on fast.
“No, that’s the old one. I found it in my apartment. It turned out I didn’t lose it after all.”
“Well, that must’ve been a relief.”
“Shit,” I said. “I didn’t have a chance to hit the bank before work to take your money out. But I could go out right now if you want me to?”
“No, it’s okay,” she said.
“You sure?” I said, knowing there was no way she’d send me out into the cold. “There’s an ATM a few blocks away, right?”