Free Pent Up by Damon Suede Page B

resignation.
    Ruben scratched its head. “At least you didn’t have to walk around the block.”
    Charles swore otherwise, but Ruben needed to find a place of his own ASAP.
    “Rube?” His brother came out of the bathroom, hair damp and wrapped in a towel. “We’re good.”
    Ruben put the groceries on one of the stools in front of the tiny counter to put away later. No way could they both fit in the kitchen.
    “Nice threads. My jackets looked like shit on you. Jesus.”
    “You got fat, man.”
    “Fuck you.” His brother rubbed his hard gut.
    Charles was tubby, had no kinda chin, and lived on maxed out credit cards, but he got way more pussy because he was without shame. He’d lie, beg, and whine to get inside a girl’s ass. Daria had managed to hang on to him for seven months, which was some kinda record. “Bauer’s right about the suit, though. He dressed you up sharp.”
    “Yeah. I guess.”
    “Job still kosher?”
    “I guess? He’s buying.” Ruben nodded. “But I still can’t figure why Empire.” Why me?
    For a moment he imagined Andy’s shark smile. He realized it didn’t scare him anymore, which scared him.
    “Bauer wants to feel like a badass with some pit bull on a leash, so let him.” Charles shrugged. “It’s all in his head, and he wants you to put on a show.”
    “He thinks the pigeons are spying on us. Rich people don’t cheap out on safety.”
    “Then who fucking knows, Rube? Slumming? I say thank God for paranoid cheapskates.” Charles took a swallow of milk and wiped his mouth. “He a homo, y’think? Crushing on your mean pinga .”
    Ruben snorted. “Bauer? No way. Uptight is all.” He didn’t add that he’d probably spent more time scoping Andy than vice versa. “That dude uses the Playboy channel like the home shopping network.”
    An odd look, clenched eyebrows. “You should get with some ladies, mingle. Get your ashes hauled.”
    “Yeah.” Ruben pressed his lips together and looked at the mottled floor. For five seconds he considered braving the hot night to hit a meeting then crapped out. Tomorrow.
    “Socialize. Everything you got’s been taken. I get it, Rube. You’re not a kid, and you’re gonna have to get your feet under you again. Man up.”
    “I’m not a charity case, Chucky.”
    “No. No, you’re not. A charity case would say thank you and get off my back. No, you gotta bust my balls and bitch that I’m not sending you into something crazy and dangerous.”
    Ruben exhaled. “I gotta feeling.”
    “A feeling. You’re thinking about Marisa.”
    Ruben shrugged. Actually he hadn’t obsessed about Marisa in three months, but it made more sense than what he had been obsessing over.
    “Ruben, all that’s past. Almost a year, huh? She’s done. Moved on. You do the same.”
    “Sure.” Eyes up. “No. I’m good.”
    “I thought you dug Bauer’s assistant. Hot and smart.”
    “Hope? Yeah. No. Engaged.” Every time Ruben flirted she held up a diamond the size of a throat lozenge, but she seemed unoffended by his attention.
    “How engaged can she be?” Charles always assumed they could talk their way into any panties. Maybe he was right. Down the hall, Daria’s plaintive voice asked something.
    Charles raised his voice to answer. “Almost, cariño . M’talking to my brother, huh?”
    No reply from the bedroom, but Charles nodded toward Daria anyway.
    How did they talk about Ruben when he wasn’t here? Did he even want to know? Shame choked him.
    I’m intruding here. Irrationally, Ruben wanted to be back at the penthouse spying on a life he’d never be able to afford. Plenty of room there. At least Andy listened. He swatted that thought away.
    Peach’s voice in his head: Analysis is paralysis.
    He needed to make himself scarce somehow. The apartment was tiny, but it had an old, footed tub in there big enough for three people. Charles hated to sweat so he liked to sit and soak. Ruben tried to keep his showers short ’cause this wasn’t his