you’re thinking, Jimmy, that I was fired over rigged stock trades. It’s what you heard; right?”
“Something along those lines.”
“Listen, I didn’t do nothing my bosses hadn’t approved up and down the line. When the regulators jumped all over us, they made me the scapegoat.”
“I see.”
He emptied the gin and tonic and wiped the corners of his mouth with his sleeve. “I was the one who took the fall and lost his securities license.”
“Hmm.”
“As you well know, Jimmy, shit only flows downhill on Wall Street.”
“Right.”
“And there are two sides to every story.”
“Uh-huh.”
He held up his empty glass and rattled the ice so Ashley would notice he wanted a refill. “And bring Jimmy a fresh beer too.”
“Thanks, Carl.”
“Anytime, Jimbo.”
“What kind of work are you doing these days?”
His lip twisted. “Eh, you might say I’m helping heavy hitters find investment opportunities.”
“Are they overseas investors?”
“I’d rather not go into any details, Jimmy, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, I understand.”
“I knew you would.”
“Your new gig, Carl, whatever it is, appears to pay very well.”
He slapped him on the back. “Oh, yeah, I got no gripes. You could say I’ve got it made in the shade.”
*
Stud Muffin
The twelve television monitors in the Bull & Bear all displayed the same message during the commercial break:
BUY WHEN THERE’S BLOOD IN THE STREETS!
Tuck Hobbs peered up at the nearest screen as he entered the bar. Hilda was interrupting the cable feed again, trying to project an optimistic outlook for the stock market so as to help her business. He wrinkled his nose; she should stick to selling liquor. His best guess was that the heavy bloodletting was still a few months away.
By the time he waved to Ruthie the message had changed to:
THE TREND IS YOUR FRIEND!
He agreed. The only problem was that the trend is down and trending lower; so investors should sell; not buy.
The next message materialized before he could turn away:
THE MARKET IS MANIC-DEPRESSIVE!
Tuck grimaced. His gut told him that he was M-D too.
He surveyed the large barroom, catching Jimmy Donovan’s attention to let him know that he’d arrived. Then he sat on a stool at the other side of the bar near a redhead with the most voluptuous breasts he’d seen in the last 48 hours. Busty women weren’t trustworthy but there was no denying that they turned him on. The bra strap on her back looked to be stretched to its limit and seemed like it might give way at any minute. If it did burst, he’d be quick to offer both his moral and physical support.
A few minutes later Jimmy came over and sat down next to him.
Tuck gave him a hug. “Love you, guy.”
“Likewise.”
“What were you doing talking to that Pizzi douchebag?”
“It’s a public place, besides, Carl’s not so bad.”
Tuck grunted disapprovingly.
Julia put his White Russian down on the bar in front of him.
Jimmy looked puzzled. “I thought you always drank Jameson neat?”
Tuck stirred the cocktail with his pinky finger and took a sip. “I did but this has milk in it and I feel an ulcer coming on.”
“Maybe the pressure is finally getting to you, Tuck, maybe you should kiss off Wall Street and get into another line of business.”
“Yeah, right, I could buy myself a second-hand cart and sell hot dogs and warm pretzels on the corner of Broad Street.”
Jimmy managed a reticent smile despite his depressed state of mind.
“Or better still, you and I might go into business together.”
“What would we do, Tuck?”
“Let me see, what skills do you have?”
Jimmy weighed the question. “Well, I’m a good listener.”
“Hmm.”
“And I take detailed, comprehensive notes at business meetings.”
“Ok.”
“And I also make a good first impression. That’s important, Tuck, because a person doesn’t get a second chance to make a good first impression.”
“True. Anything else, Jimmy?”
He lowered his voice. “Well, I’ve been told I’m a stud muffin.”
“A what?”
“A stud muffin. You know, a guy who is great in bed at pleasuring the ladies.”
Tuck’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.
“I could probably be a professional Gigolo, if I was so inclined.”
He scrutinized his rapidly balding, portly chum. “Eh, who told you that you were a stud, Jimmy?”
“A woman, of course.”
“Your wife.”
“No, Pam would never talk that way, she’s shy about sex. When I first met her, Pam was a devout virgin and contemplating joining the convent.”
“Is this woman then someone you’re currently having an affair with?”
“No, Tuck, I’d never cheat on my wife.”
He fidgeted in his seat. “How long ago did this woman tell you that you were a stud?”
“I remember the day exactly, Tuck, it was on my 16th. Birthday.”
“Hells bells, Jimmy, that must be thirty-five years ago!”
