“What’s up?” Melvin inquired.
“You gotta minute?”
Melvin pulled back the sleeve of his overcoat and looked at his watch. He was fronting like he didn’t have much time, but that was bullshit. He really didn’t have s**t to do that night. All he planned on doing was ordering takeout and watching reruns of Different Strokes. See, he just wanted homie to believe he was a man that always had something going. Therefore, he had very little time. That was the impression that he wanted to project.
“Yeah, I gotta few ticks,” Melvin made his way back over to the bar and sat down where he was before, beside Chief.
“Jack, right?” Chief asked of Melvin’s drink of choice. He’d noticed earlier that night that the man had ordered up a glass of Jack Daniel’s straight. He believed that homie must have had
