Free The Radiant City by Lauren B. Davis

enough.”
     
    “Sorry to hear that,” says Matthew, but Anthony just shrugs.
     
    “Language problem is the way I choose to see it. I make it a practice not to hang on to resentments. Keep calm. Kind of a vow I took when my life derailed. No more violence, you know?”
     
    Jack snorts. “Anthony had a spiritual awakening. Turned over a new leaf. I knew Anthony back in New York. Made a fair penny together back in the day.”
     
    “Long time ago,” says Anthony and he drops his eyes.
     
    “Aw, don’t get all remorseful,” says Jack, punching him in the shoulder. “That was then. Now we’re just three guys in Paris, right? No pasts.”
     
    “At least not in here,” says Anthony. “Think that’s why I took to this place, the first time Jack brought me.”
     
    “I’ll drink to that,” says Matthew.
     
    Suzi passes their table on the way to the toilet and ruffles Jack’s hair.
     
    “Jack’s got a girlfriend,” Anthony says.
     
    “Grow the fuck up,” says Jack.
     
    “Suzi’s all right,” says Matthew.
     
    “Hell, yes. No problem there,” says Jack. “I wouldn’t mind a piece of that.”
     
    “Yours for the asking, I’d say.” Matthew takes a long pull of his beer.
     
    “Mine for the paying, actually. And I don’t pay.”
     
    “I don’t think she’d make you pay. She likes you,” says Anthony, then smiles. “I got a girlfriend. Vietnamese girl.”
     
    “Anthony’s new romance.” Jack looks amused.
     
    “What’s her name?” says Matthew.
     
    “Pawena. In fact, you should meet her. Come over for dinner. I’m going to cook and Jack’s coming. What do you say?”
     
    “Sure, why not? Thanks for the offer.”
     
    “Jack, you working at the hostel Saturday night?”
     
    “Nope.”
     
    “Okay, Saturday night then.” With that, Suzi comes out of the bathroom, and Anthony reaches out and takes her hand. “Suzi, you want to come to dinner with us? At my place? I’m cooking. You can meet my girlfriend.”
     
    “You want me to come to dinner?”
     
    “You working Saturday night?”
     
    “She always works nights, asshole,” says Jack.
     
    Suzi arches an eyebrow and puts her hand on her hip. “This Saturday I will take off. Can you really cook?”
     
    “I can cook.”
     
    “I would love to come for dinner. Give me the address.”
     
    Anthony gives her an address and she whistles. “Oh-la-la! You live in an area I know very well. Good area for girls.”
     
    Anthony throws his head back and laughs. “Not on my street!”
     
    When she walks away, Jack slaps Anthony on the back of the head. “What are you doing?”
     
    “Pawena’s going to bring her girlfriend, and with Matthew coming I thought it would be nice to have an even number. What?”
     
    “Listen, Brainiac, how do you think your girlfriend’s going to take to you inviting a hooker?”
     
    “Oh, she won’t mind.”
     
    “Geez, I hate cops.”
     
    “Present company,” says Anthony and waits.
     
    “Excepted,” says Jack, rolling his eyes and grinning.
     

Chapter Nine
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    The Ferhat family live near the Barbès-Rochechouart Métro on rue du Faubourg Poissonnière, a street split down the middle between the 9th arrondissement and the 10th. Si, technically, the Ferhats live in the 10th, which the bourgeoisie consider not as good a neighbourhood as the 9th, which in turn is not as good as the 8th. The Ferhats live on the top floor, the sixth floor, where former maids’ and cooks’ quarters have been converted into tiny apartments. The conversion happened in stages as the neighbourhood became less genteel. First, four or perhaps five decades ago, the tiny rooms under the eaves were rented out to people other than domestic servants. Then, thirty years ago, the landlord knocked down walls and made small independent rooms into four two-room apartments with kitchenettes. At that time the sole bathroom was down the hall, shared among the tenants. Now improvements