Book 4: Bone Cold-Alive Series
Ron slouched his six foot frame into one of Fletch’s visitor chairs. “It was good of you to see me on such short notice.” He made no effort to hide the contempt in his voice. The bitch that guarded the office had verbally attacked him like the alley cat she was when he’d strode into and through her precious domain. He wasn’t sure what Fletch was getting out of this, but it had better be good for that kind of abuse to be taking place in his office right under his nose.
Fletch narrowed his eyes at Ron and reached over to the phone, pushing a button and smiling at Ron in the process. “Hold all my calls, Cherie. Nothing, I repeat nothing, is to interrupt us.” He didn’t lose contact with Ron’s eyes. “In fact, lock the door and go home.”
“But, Levi…” and it was a whiny voice. Since he wasn’t sleeping with her, what could it be?
“Now, Cherie. See you Monday.” Fletch clicked the button, leaned back in his desk chair and spread his hands. “I’m all yours.”
Now that he had the band manager’s undivided attention, Ron stalled. He crossed his left ankle over his right knee and picked at the hem on the worn jeans. Fletch steepled his hands under his chin and didn’t say a word. This is how Cherie would find them Monday morning if Ron didn’t start the conversation he had insisted upon.
“I have a gambling problem.”
This, of course, was not big news to Fletch. It certainly wasn’t big news to BCA or bookies or Las Vegas high-rollers. That he could voice this as a concern and add the word “problem,” that was big news. It had taken some deep soul-searching to come to this turn of phrase and Fletch’s raised eyebrow acknowledged that.
Ron cleared his throat and looked up at the ceiling. “And you know the gravity of this problem for me to come to you.”
Fletch nodded. Ron. Fletch. Never a match made anywhere near heaven, Ron felt they were each other’s Necessary Evil. Fletch was the best at what he did, and the five members of the band had the opportunity, each and every one of them, to be millionaires many times over. If they weren’t, it was their own fault and Ron felt himself squirm inwardly. If money were his only problem, he wouldn’t be sitting here abasing himself to his nemesis. Fletch had benefited equally well financially. Ron was appreciative of the mind behind BCA’s success. He was equally appreciative of the fact that he was an important cog in the wheel, one that had been there from the beginning. Surely that loyalty could pay off now.
“So how much are you in for?”
As if he would ask him for money! But then, what else would Fletch think? Ron coughed. “The jewels,” he answered.
“My jewels. My family jewels.” Ron made a brief motion toward his mid-section.
Fletch grinned and gave a little laugh. “Maybe you’d better start at the beginning.”