7
The taxi pulled to the curb in front of a mini mansion. It had all the beauty and pomp of a regular mansion but on a smaller scale. I paid the taxi driver and followed a winding pathway to the front door. Rock music blasted through high-end speakers, and laughter cascaded from the house. In the distance I heard someone shout “cannonball,” which was followed by a splash of water.
I rang the doorbell.
The door swung open to reveal a house filled with men. The man at the door was in a swimsuit and armed with a beer in his hand. Only then did it dawn on me that Frankie had sent me to a gig at a bachelor party. A bachelor party filled with drunk men. My palms clammed up with sweat.
“Hey, are you the entertainment?” the guy asked.
“I was hired to be a card dealer.”
“Oh, yeah. Come on in,
