Free Nobody's Fool by Richard Russo Page B

third-floor downtown office, right in front of the company El Camino. Sully double-parked his pickup so that both of Carl’s vehicles were effectively hemmed in. Carl was not above going down the back way when somebody he didn’t want to see was coming up the front. “When are you going to spring for an elevator, you cheap bastard?” Sully called when he got to the top of the stairs and opened the door that read TIP TOP CONSTRUCTION: C. I. ROEBUCK .
    Carl’s new secretary, hired during the summer, was a pretty girl, though not as pretty as the one she replaced. She made a face at Sully, whom she hadn’t seen in three months and hadn’t missed. “He called in sick, he’s on the phone, he’s in the Bahamas. Take your pick. He doesn’t want to talk to you.”
    Sully pulled up a chair, sat and massaged his knee, which was pulsing from the climb. He could hear Carl Roebuck on the phone in the inner office.
    â€œThe Bahamas sound all right, Ruby,” he said. “Get his checkbook and we’ll go.”
    â€œThere’s about a thousand guys I’d take with me before you,” Ruby informed him.
    â€œDon’t be mean,” Sully said. “This is a small town. There can’t be more than a couple hundred guys you’d prefer to me.”
    â€œAs long as there’s one, you’re shit out of luck,” she smiled unpleasantly.
    Sully shrugged. “Okay, except the one you’re after’s no good for you.”
    Ruby’s unpleasant smile vanished, replaced by an expression even more unpleasant. “And who’m I after, in your opinion?”
    Sully realized he’d messed up. That she and Carl, a married man, had something going was common knowledge. The look on Ruby’s face suggested she didn’t know this.
    Luckily, before Sully could make matters worse, Carl Roebuck was heard to hang up the phone in the inner office. “If those are the dulcet tones of the long-lost and unlamented Donald Sullivan,” he called, “send him in. Tell him I’ve got a job for him that even he can’t fuck up.”
    Ruby relocated her unpleasant smile. “Go right in,” she purred. “Mr. Roebuck will see you now.”
    Carl Roebuck was leaning back in his swivel chair when Sully opened the door, and the smug expression on his face was identical to the one he’d worn back in August when Sully swore he’d never work for him again. “How’s my favorite cripple?” he wanted to know.
    Sully plopped down in one of the room’s fake leather chairs. “In the world’s worst fucking mood,” he said. “I’d like to toss you right out that window just to see what you’d land on.”
    Carl smiled. “I’d land on my feet.”
    Sully had to admit this was exactly the way it would probably go. “We may have to try it some time, so we know for sure.”
    Carl swiveled lazily, grinning. “Sully, Sully, Sully.”
    Bad mood or no bad mood, Sully couldn’t help grinning back. Carl Roebuck was one of those people you just couldn’t stay mad at. His father, Kenny Roebuck, hadn’t been able to, and neither, apparently, could Carl’s wife, Toby, who had a world of reason to. The fact that nobody could stay mad at him was, perhaps, the source of Carl Roebuck’s luck. No wonder he had his way with people, especially women. What he managed to convey to all of them was that they were just what he needed to fill his life with meaning.
    â€œWhat am I going to do with you?” Carl wondered out loud, as if it really were his decision.
    â€œPay me the money you owe, and I’ll let you alone,” Sully offered.
    Carl ignored this. “Is your truck running?”
    â€œAt the moment.”
    â€œThen I got a job for you.”

“Not till you pay me for the last one.”
    Carl stood up. “We’ve been through this. I’m not paying you