I WAS BACK at the restaurant before ten. "Max still here," Mama told me. "In the basement."
There's a bank of three pay phones past the tables, just outside the kitchen area. One of them is mine. People call, Mama answers. Tells them I'm not in, takes a message. It's worked like that for years.
The phone rang at ten-thirty. I looked at my watch. It wasn't like Wesley to be cute. I grabbed the phone.
"Yeah?"
"You answer your own phone now?" Candy.
"What?"
"I have to see you."
"I'm busy."
"I know what you're busy with…it's about that. You want me to talk on the phone?"
"I'll call you when I can come."
"Call soon. You don't have a lot of time."