“Don’t worry,” I place my hand on his back and lead him through the door. “The alcohol was warding off the memories, and since I stopped getting shit-faced, my head ended up in the lion’s mouth. Luckily I’m married to a lion tamer.”

“Ahh, that’s what’s going on. Well, to be honest with you, buddy, I’d rather have a drunk fucker to deal with, than no fucker, but thankfully Sophia’s around to help you with both.”

We walk inside and stand behind two magnificent women. I watch as Hav slides his hand along Alyssa’s ass and gives her a quick spank. She laughs, slapping his chest in a playful interaction, and when the host seats us in a candlelit alcove, the two bump against one another; inseparable.

Sophia and I have been to this restaurant in the past and we enjoy the private setting, warm burnt orange walls, and dark hardwood floors. Each seating area also has a flat screen on the wall that displays a digitized flickering fire. Okay, I admit, the last aspect of the decor is fucking odd, but the food’s good, so I can overlook the fact they don’t have a real fireplace. But, the screen has caught the attention of Alyssa, who seems mesmerized by the fake flames.

“You should ask Haverty to buy you one. He can install it on the wall next to your bed,” I grin and kick him in the shin, not at all serious.

“Listen up, scrawny white boy,” she says in her ass kicking voice. “Jimmy’s the type of man who’ll snap the branches off a tree with his bare hands and then whack pieces of flint together until the sparks start a fire. Then he’ll kill us some wild animal, cook it over that fire, and for dessert, he’ll screw me good.” She points her finger at my face and we stare at one another, while Haverty sets his finger and thumb on the crown of his nose and closes his eyes. His shakes his head and sighs.

I can’t help but burst out laughing. This is Alyssa. She’ll pull up her panties and set a person straight; which is why she and Haverty are perfect for one another, but that’s not why I’m laughing.

“Did you just call him Jimmy?” I crack up, and Sophia and Alyssa join me while Haverty, I mean, Jimmy, continues to shake his head.

“Muffin Mama, I told you not to say that in front of him,” he finally says, clearly getting her back by using her pet name.

“Oh hell no. Nuh-uh,” she waves her finger in the air toward him. “Don’t you dare call me Muffin Mama right now unless you’re actually offering me a muffin. Like, you wanna muffin, Mama? Then I’d be like, hell yeah, I want a muffin.”

“Umm,” Sophia cuts in. “What the hell are you guys talking about?”

“Sophia, girrrl. Make sure you exercise those brain cells of yours,” she rolls up her sleeves, raring to go. “That child inside your belly might be eating away at your mind as we speak. What you gonna do in a few months from now when nothing’s left inside your skull? I can see that little baby inside you right now, he’s got a drinking straw stuck up into your head and he’s just reclining in your womb, sucking away. That’s what children do, you know? Somehow, they’re all wide-awake and crazy and shit ‘cause they suck the energy straight from us, and they control our minds too. But to answer your question, we’re talking about muffins.”

“Wait... what? I’m confused. You want a muffin?” Sophia turns to me for clarification as I’m tearing up from my deep enjoyment of Alyssa’s words. I’ve been meaning to call Haverty, Jim, for a while, but Jimmy’s even better and to hear it come from her is priceless.

Our waiter breaks up the conversation by putting a bottle of wine on the table along with a basket of bread; a common practice by the owners. I request a cup of coffee to get me through the long night at the Scarlett as well as San Pellegrino’s for Sophia and me. I nod to Haverty that it’s okay to drink the wine, but he passes and orders Cokes for the two of them.

“Go ahead and drink it. Wine will be better than soda with your meal.”

“No, we’re fine,” he winks. He’s being way too nice about everything and now I think his apparent nerves have more to do with my thoughts of suicide than his other insecurities. It will be nice if he’d call me an asshat or the like so we can get back to being dicks to one another. This whole back and forth lovey-dovey shit’s annoying.

“Jimmy, drink the fucking wine,” I finally say.

“Well, if you insist, dick waffle,” he laughs and takes two slugs from the bottle before passing it along to Alyssa. “I was only trying to be nice.”

“It’s wiener waffle. Get it right, you guys,” Sophia says.

“I know you’re trying to be nice, and I appreciate it, but we’re buying you dinner tonight as a thank you. Drink up.”

“Why don’t they have any prices on the menu?” Alyssa asks. “I mean, what if the soup here is like fifty dollars? I’m not paying fifty bucks for soup.”

“For future reference, if you have to ask the price, then you probably can’t afford it,” Haverty responds. “Cove, we need to talk about David.”

The waiter interrupts to put four salads, a sampler of dressings, and our drinks on the table.

“Wait, I didn’t order this,” Alyssa picks up her plate and hands it to him.

“It’s okay,” I say to her. “It’s alright,” I nod to the waiter and he moves promptly away. “Wine, bread, and a salad are served to everyone when they arrive. It’s all part of your meal. Think of it as a package deal.” I turn back to Haverty. “What do you need to tell me about David?”

He drinks more wine before beginning, which tells me it’s not good news. “I met one of my friends from the force for breakfast after I left your place. He said they towed David’s rental car from a side street by the Scarlett late last night. Did you know he was being investigated for tax evasion, money laundering, obstruction of justice, and on top of that, a group of women from Jameson Industries accused him recently of aggravated assault and rape? The list goes on from there. His wife left him too.” Sophia closes her menu, leans forward and listens, as Haverty lowers his voice. “He was fucked. I’d say he was collecting as much money as he could to disappear, but my friends on the force believe a shot to the head was his way out. What do you think? They don’t know about Sophia’s check, and if they did, things would change. Right? Why the fuck do you think David shot himself when he was about to get a shitload from you guys? I’d believe the same thing as my friends on the force if I didn’t have inside information. And I do believe you, Cove. But something’s still wrong with this picture.”

I rub my eyebrows and bow my head. “I think Marcus Wild killed him,” I whisper.

“What?” Sophia asks. “Is that the guy?”

With a nod and a knot in my stomach, I answer with a yes.

“Jesus Christ, Cove, you said he wasn’t dangerous,” she yells, then looks around the room and regains control of her emotions.

“I don’t know for sure, he made it sound like he killed him, but I think he’s fucking with my head. He’s acting strange and wavering between good and evil. I can’t believe he’s changed that much from when I knew him years ago. Like everyone else, the money could’ve gotten to his head, or perhaps it’s a power trip.”

“Oh, hell no,” Alyssa puts her fork down and pours a glass of wine. “You white people need to learn how to take control of your lives, and that goes for you too, Jimmy. You’re like mountain goats spending your days hanging out on the ledge of a cliff. At any moment you’re gonna take a tumble and land on your head. Next time you see this guy, call me. I’ll stick his head up between my butt cheeks and squeeze, and squeeze, and squeeze until he pops. He’ll take off running when he sees me coming.”

“What do you mean I need to learn how to take control of my life?” Haverty says under his breath.

She looks at him with wide eyes and a tilted head like he should know what she’s referring to. He puts his hands in the air not understanding her words. “You’ve proposed to her twice already,” Alyssa says. “Why can’t you just ask me, and not her? It’s ridiculous.”