Picking the music with Rosie for dance recital. You have to see this.”Ī reply dashed back. Three muscular men shared the empty area with her - one by her side, the other two absorbed in a game of pool. Sparing no time, the youth pushed himself from the bar and scuttled for the door.Įugene watched the girl keenly. If Sergey or I ever see you again, you’re a dead man.” And eventually, so would you.”Įugene smacked him upside the head. “I figured, the way she’s going, pretty soon I’d be working for her anyway. “She’s been growing a network damn fast,” Francisco explained. “She doesn’t even look old enough to be drinking.” A pink Hello Kitty purse nestled in the girl’s lap. Each time she comes here, she gets more people signing up to sell for her.”Įugene squinted. “She’s been using this joint for a recruiting ground. “She showed up two weeks ago,” Francisco rasped. He released his choke, leaving Francisco wheezing. Eugene couldn’t make out details, but, amid all the denim vests and grease-stained jeans, her sleek white dress and gladiator stilettos stuck out like a Viagra in a bag of molly. There, on a tall bar stool, sat a young Asian woman drinking a fluorescent cocktail. Near a pool table, the crowd simply stopped, like a sea held back by an invisible dam. “See for yourself!” Francisco honked through his squeezed larynx, and extended a wobbly arm toward the back of the bar.Įugene’s gaze followed his trembling finger past silhouettes of drunks. Staring into his eyes, he hissed, “You betray us for utter bullshit?” Figure she’s got no import costs, no cartel dues, no Federales bribes… Maybe she knows something you don’t.”Įugene’s fingers closed around Francisco’s throat. “I’m just saying what I heard,” Francisco pleaded. You would know this if you were not an idiot.” Farms need to harvest acres of crop just to break even. A kilogram of coca leaves will only yield five grams of blow. “Francisco, how did you get to be a salesman without knowing shit about your product? Coca is not like hemp. What’s it called? ‘Hydroponic?’”Įugene rolled his eyes. She grows it in a tub of saltwater or something. What you sell for a grand, she sells for two hundred. He murmured, “She charges a fifth of your prices.”Įugene leaned in, pulling Francisco’s face to his ear. But that’s not the point.”Įugene’s eyes narrowed. “Her staple is better than your samplers, chief. “This new supplier’s product is so much better, right?”įrancisco’s lips trembled. “You and Sergey, you always treat me good. “I… like selling for you, Eugene,” Francisco stammered. “Do you think Sergey and I aren’t painfully aware, Francisco? How much is the street price for loyalty?” “Jimmy jumped last week, and Martinez…”Įugene’s hand snaked toward the man’s neck. “You cheat us, and think this wouldn’t make trouble?” He spoke fluidly, but his accent betrayed Russian origins. It might have passed for a gesture of friendship, but it wasn’t. “I didn’t mean to make trouble, Eugene,” a thin young man gulped.Įugene clapped his shoulder.
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Around him, tattooed men with large bellies and larger beards swigged Jack Daniels and bragged about their horsepower beneath the blare of the jukebox. He leaned against the carving-pocked bar, careful to avoid dipping the elbow of his custom-fit leather jacket into something sticky and unnameable. Peanut shells crunched under Eugene’s designer sneakers.