Quink

She smiled. "That was my father's name."

I knew that, of course; that's why I'd chosen it. "Go on," I said, waving a hand toward the stairs.

"I can't afford to pay," she said.

"No charge tonight."

She dimpled. "You can be so sweet."

I shrugged.

"Come on," the Todd said, tugging her toward the stairs.

After they were upstairs, I lit another cigarette and punched up the silf for the front door.

"What's up, quink?"

"You know Alexia?"

"The one with the eyes? Here every Tuesday night?"

"That's her." I took a drag. "She's blackballed after tonight."

"I thought she was your squish."

"Just blackball her before I degauss your digital ass."

"Fine. She's blackballed. Sheesh. Quinks can be so damn touchy." It dropped the connection.

I leaned back in my chair. In that hard unyielding wooden chair, the same chair I sat in every night. A splotch of moonlight leaked through the filthy window, and lay on the