Free Like a Boss by Adam Rakunas Page A

into consideration come election time.” With a flourish, I opened the door and bowed low. “Now go home.”
    A woman in a deck jacket and work boots swung around from the door posts. Before I could react, she got between me and the door. I didn’t even have time to yell as she closed the door with a solid click. She put her back to the door and faced me, and I had the damnedest feeling of déjà vu.
    The woman looked my age, though her skin was so smooth that there was no way she’d spent any time in the sun. She had a LiaoCon Security Services tattoo on her cheek: a deep green dagger with a red merlion coiled around the blade. The inklines were crisp, like she’d only gotten it a month ago. She squared her shoulders at me, and her eyes said she would break me in half if I made a wrong move. There was no way she was a rookie.
    I threw up my hands. “This is some shameful shit, Letty. Breaking into my place, having your little thug keeping me from bouncing your ass on the street. You really want me to go to everyone else on the Executive Committee? Don’t you think Ly An Nogales would love to hear about you getting all power-grabby?”
    Letty tented her fingers and rested her elbows on her knees. She looked like an illustration from one of my B-school manuals about executive poise. “I think Ly An would do the same if she faced the same situation.”
    “Which is what?”
    She smiled. “Pour me a drink, and I’ll tell you.”
    I jerked a thumb at the woman guarding my door. “Tell your attack poodle to wait outside. She doesn’t look housetrained.”
    The woman’s eyes narrowed. She made a sound like a jet engine starting up as she uncrossed her arms.
    “No, it’s okay,” said Letty, holding up a hand. “Thank you, Jennifer. Please wait outside.”
    Jennifer’s upper lip twitched into a microsneer as she slipped out the door. I threw the deadbolt. “Where did you find her ?”
    “Same place I find everyone else who’s useful: a bar.”
    I got a bottle of Beaulieu’s Blend out for Letty. Endless supply of Old Windswept aside, I wasn’t about to share my best with her, not after this crap. “Well, she certainly has a great tableside manner.”
    Letty moved over to my little table and blew out the candle. “She just came down the cable earlier this year. Interesting story: she was in personal security for some ag executive, and her boss wanted her to go out and rough up some tenant farmers. She punched out her boss, freaked out, and stowed away on the first outbound ship she could find.” She shook her head. “Four years later, she slips down the cable, and Little Charlemagne put her to work as a bouncer.”
    I put the bottle and two glasses on the table. “Is that why his place started getting good reviews? I know it wasn’t for his food. He burns water.”
    “She certainly changed the ambiance,” said Letty, eyeing the two fingers I poured in her glass. “Once she rousted out the troublemakers and bullies, it became a more pleasant place to hang out.”
    “Yeah, but pity wherever the troublemakers and bullies landed.” I held up my glass, and we clinked them. “To personal security; would that we all could have some.”
    Letty snorted and took a deep sip. I just mouthed my rum; it was too close to Six O’Clock to put other forms of alcohol into my system.
    She held the glass up to the evening light and swirled the rum. “You know, Padma, whenever the Executive Committee is kibitzing amongst ourselves, this comes up a lot. You and this hour of the day. Back when we were both Ward Chairs, I remember you kicking up a fuss because Ted Fantodji wanted to have a meeting at six. It almost came to blows.”
    I shrugged. “It just wasn’t a good time.” I was glad the jammer was there; it saved me the embarrassment of reviewing the memory, filed away on the Public for all to see.
    “But it’s never been a good time.” She tapped her temple. “I checked. You are always here at six o’clock,