Free Famous Last Meals by Richard Cumyn Page B

disappeared.
    â€œHow do you know? Have you been here before?”
    â€œDo you trust me, Adam?”
    â€œWhy? Shouldn’t I?”
    â€œYou must have questions you want to ask me.”
    â€œI sure do. Do they skin the chicken breasts, for one thing?”
    â€œYou have every reason to be hostile.”
    â€œWho’s being hostile?”
    â€œOkay, defensive, confused, disoriented.”
    â€œAnd he’s on the ropes, ladies and gentlemen. Dazed, defenceless, confused. Does he even know what’s happening to him? The referee begins the mandatory eight count as he rubs rosin off the contender’s gloves.”
    â€œLet me put it simply. At the moment you are a wanted man.”
    Adam laughed and felt his face grow red at the sound. The waiter peeked out of the kitchen door and closed it when he saw that no one was hurt.
    â€œThe press wants to talk to you about the information you’ve been giving Mr. Bliss.”
    â€œBut I haven’t! He knows more about Don Feeney than
I do.”
    â€œDoesn’t matter. The story’s out there now.”
    He shrugged, blinked, looked out the window. He just wanted to go home.
    â€œWhat do you want from me?”
    â€œThe better question is what do you want from you? Three months ago you came to me looking for a job. Not just a job, a career.”
    â€œI found something else.”
    â€œYou’re a volunteer working on the election campaign of the PM ’s man. You’re a dispensable functionary. Do you really think there’s going to be a job for you there when this is all over?”
    â€œIt’s already all over. They want me gone so they can do damage control. Why exactly—what’s your connection to this? I thought you listened in on phone conversations
and stuff.”
    Before she could answer, the waiter brought water glasses, finger bowls and a basket of flat bread and a salsa dip. Adam felt as if he had not eaten in days. He took two pita triangles and ate them quickly without adorning them.
    â€œHere’s what I can tell you: very soon Don Feeney will resign his candidacy. Someone will be found to replace him, someone blessed by both the Government and the Opposition. Are you wondering who that will be?”
    â€œNot really.”
    â€œOf course you are. Think. Who could possibly step in to replace Don and please the Party, LB and Mrs. Fallingbrooke at the same time?”
    â€œHumpty Dumpty.”
    â€œYour cooperation in this is imperative, Mr. Lerner,” she said, her tone now disciplinary.
    â€œI don’t know. I don’t care. Conrad Black. Wayne Gretzky. Shania Twain. Me.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYes what?”
    â€œYes you.”
    â€œYou’re out of your flipping gourd, lady.”
    The waiter brought their entrees, giving Hannah an excuse not to respond. She directed her attention to the underside of her chicken, which she lifted with her knife and fork as if she were performing the dissection of a fetal pig in a high-school biology lab. Adam waited, not touching his utensils. If she didn’t look up in three seconds, he told himself, he was going to leave.
    She sniffed and said, “Grape nuts, I think,” and cut a morsel of meat. She looked at it on her fork. “I’m allergic to pine nuts. Not grape nuts, though.”
    The three seconds passed and still she hadn’t looked up. He stood. “I’m out of here,” he said. “How much...?” He took out his wallet, removed a ten-dollar bill and tucked it under the lip of his plate.
    â€œWhat if I were to tell you...?” She raised her eyes to his. She seemed almost amused, but also earnest, a new expression for her normally inscrutable face.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI’ve got this. Keep your money.”
    â€œTell me what?”
    â€œNothing. Don’t worry about it. Have a pleasant flight.”
    â€œI’m not up to this. Really.”
    â€œOf course