business to discuss."
"Do you know Steve Mancini?" Gary asked with a big smile.
"What?" Mammon asked, as if he could not believe that Gary had the temerity to a ress im.
"Steve is my friend," Gary said proudly. "He's marrying my sister tomorrow. I'm gonna be the best man."
"Why the fuck should I care?" Mammon snapped.
"It's okay, Chris," Booth said nervously, afraid Mammon would erupt into violence. Then, he whispered, "Gary's a retard. He don't mean anything."
Mammon thought about that for a moment. He had to get rid of Harmon and he had an idea. The body builder spotted what he was looking for at the bar.
"Your friend's getting married tomorrow?" Mammon asked, feigning interest.
"Yeah. At the church. I'm gonna wear a tuxedo."
"Hey, that's great. But what are you doing here? Why aren't you at Steve's bachelor party?"
"What's that?" Gary asked, his brow furrowing.
"You ain't never heard of a bachelor party?" Mammon asked, nudging Booth with his elbow.
"No," Gary answered, embarrassed that, once again, other people knew things that he did not.
"Where you been, Gary? That's the party your buddies throw for you the night before you get married.
There's plenty of drinking and you tell stories and there's always a special gift for the groom-to-be," Mammon concluded with a lewd wink.
"What kind of gift?"
Mammon leaned toward Gary and, in a confidential whisper, he said, "Pussy."
Gary flushed. "Steve wouldn't go for a party like that."
"Why not?" Mammon asked with exaggerated concern. "He ain't queer, is he?"
"Oh no. He's a regular guy. He got me season tickets to the Stallion games."
"Then, what's he got against pussy?"
"Steve's a lawyer," Gary answered proudly.
Mammon and Booth cracked up. Gary laughed, too, because the others were laughing, but he did not know what was so funny. Steve was a good lawyer.
"You're not telling me that lawyers don't get laid?"
Mammon went on when he stopped laughing. "I bet he'll get laid on his honeymoon."
Gary blushed. He did not like to think about anyone having sex with his sister.
"It's sure too bad there ain't no bachelor party," Mammon said, shaking his huge head.
_- ... UIL sata, as if he'd just had a sudden thought. "Just because Steve is a stick-in-the-mud doesn't mean you can't have your own bachelor party.
Gary looked confused. Mammon slid his chair next to Gary's and put his arm around Gary's shoulder.
"Don't be too obvious," Mammon whispered in Gary's car, "but look over my shoulder at the blonde at the end of the bar near the door."
Gary turned slowly. A slender woman with straight, shoulder-length hair, wearing tight jeans and a Whitaker State T-shirt with a rearing stallion on it, was talking to a short brunette. Her emerald eyes sparkled when she laughed.
"Now, Gary, I'm a little jealous. That woman has been giving you the eye since I sat down."
Gary looked at her again. "Nab," Gary said nervously, "it wouldn't be me."
"Who else, buddy? You're one good-lookin' stud."
"She wasn't looking at me," Gary repeated stubbornly, hoping Mammon was wrong and terrified that he was right.
"Kevin, did you notice that blonde giving Gary the "Yeah, Gary," Booth said enthusiastically, "she's hot for you."
"You a fan of the Stallions football team, Gary?"
"Yeah!"
"Well, my man, if I was a stud like you, and a woman like that was giving me the eye, I'd strike hard and fast like a Stallion linebacker."
"What ... what do you mean?"
"Get on down there. Check it out. Odds are you'll be inside that tight squeeze before I can finish my beer."
Gary felt sick with excitement. He knew he could never have a girl like that, but Mammon seemed so certain.
"You got someplace to take her?" Mammon asked.
"I got my own house."
"I bet that place rocks from morning to night, right?"
Gary did not answer. Mammon's arm tightened around his shoulder and Mammon's breath felt hot against his ear.
"You do know how to pick up girls, don't you?"
"Sure," Gary answered, because he was