Chapter 1: Hebe

THE DOOR OPENED SO FAST I barely had time to step aside before a large disheveled guy hit the sidewalk a foot or so away. When I looked up I saw Oscar, an even larger guy, blocking the doorway. He straightened his tie and smiled.

''Sam, good to see you.''

I extended my hand and he enclosed it with both of his.

''Hi, Oscar.''

I gestured to the guy on the sidewalk, now trying and mostly failing to rise to his feet.

''Another one?''

Oscar laughed.

''Third one in two hours.''

''Hebe's going for a new record?''

''You got it. Come on in.''

Oscar's palm in the small of my back reminded me, and not for the first time, that having Oscar on my side was much better than otherwise. The guy wasn't really seven feet tall, but on some nights he made Mack trucks look petite.

Hebe waved when she caught sight of us just inside the door, her smile radiant. For years a mouthful of metal made kissing an adventure, but we found ways around that.

''Sam!''

I leaned across the bar to kiss her cheek.

''Hey, sweetie, how's it going?''

I already knew the answer. Hebe's charms were all too apparent, her disdain for a bra obvious. Easy to see why some guys got the wrong idea about her. We weren't exclusive yet, but on those long, sun-soaked, lazy mornings, after the rush and the joining and the laughter and smiles and sighs, I knew she was the girl for me.

Oscar nudged me. No way to ignore one of Oscar's nudges.

''Buy the lady a drink, buddy, OK?''

''How about you, Oscar?''

''Tonic water with a lime wedge. Thanks, Sam.''

''Hebe, what'll you have?''

She grinned. Looked from me to Oscar.

''You mean, besides... ?''

I let that one go by.

''Name it, sweetie.''

''I'll have a draft, Sam. You?''

''Same for me, Hebe, thanks.''

I watched her take care of a couple of customers down the bar. Their eyes tracked her every move, and I knew they'd be candidates for the Oscar treatment before the night was over. I turned to Oscar.

''So, quiet night more or less?''

Oscar shrugged.

''Not too bad.''

He gestured in Hebe's direction.

''She inspires them, and some guys never learn.''

Hebe was back with our drinks. We touched glasses, the three of us, and drank. After Hebe moved away, Oscar poked me.

''Her dad's after her again, she tell you that?''

''The same thing as before, right?''

''That's it. Doesn't want her spending the rest of her life in this crummy bar.''

Calling this bar a dump was a little rich, even for Mr. Z. He owned it along with Estiatorio Z, the white-tablecloth establishment travel writers and restaurant critics often featured in their ''Where to Dine in the City'' articles, plus a couple of other bars. He'd been after Hebe for months to come back to work for him in the restaurant.

Oscar chugged the rest of his tonic water and stood up. Stuck out his huge paw.

''Got to circulate, Sam. See you later.''

I gestured at Hebe.

''I think I'll keep an eye on you-know-who.''

Oscar laughed.

''Yeah, you do that. You and half this bar, right?''

''Heh.''

It was a pretty busy night, the usual mix of older guys and a few women who had nowhere else to go, a couple of sex workers not soliciting at the moment, an off-duty cop or two, and a sprinkling of hipster wannabes, some of them self-proclaimed artists or writers. Or yuppy fucks, as Hebe called them.

''Hey, penny for your thoughts.''

Hebe had returned and I hadn't noticed her.

''All about you, sweetie.''

She snorted.

''Yeah, sure.''

I was startled enough to keep quiet for a moment.

''Hebe? Where'd that come from?''

She shrugged.

''Dunno.'' A grimace. ''Sorry, Sam. I'm off tonight.''

Another shrug.

''It's Dad. He's on me again about working for him. As if I'm not working for him here, after all.''

''He loves you, Hebe. You know that.''

A laugh.

''Yeah, I know. It's not that. It's, just, well, you know.'' She snickered. ''A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.''