“You got that far before,” Ian said. “So? Are you going to do it?”

“He signs the checks, right? But then-” Alex stopped at the arrival of a ferret-faced blonde balancing plates down the length of a tattooed arm. Ian ordered another beer. After she walked away, Alex said, “But then it got worse.” He pushed his plate forward and leaned on his elbows. “I got to wondering what Johnny was doing in the safe, right? I mean, he was so concerned with it.”

Mitch cut into his breakfast, scooping up corn tortillas and salsa verde and pulled chicken.

“So after he took off, I went back into the office, and I opened the safe.”

“I’m surprised ‘Johnny Love’ gave you the combination,” Jenn said.

“He didn’t. A couple of months ago he was after some information in there, something about a real-estate deal. Manager wasn’t working, didn’t want to come in, so he called and gave me the combo. It’s Johnny’s birthday. He makes a point of showing up every year on his birthday to see who remembers.”

Jenn gave a sharp, high laugh. “This guy gets better and better.”

“Worse and worse.” Alex’s features went dark in a way that reminded Mitch of his fluttering curtains, blinding sunlight to deep gloom. “You know what was there?” He paused, then looked over his shoulder. Pitched his voice low. “Cash. A lot of it. Like, stacks of hundred-dollar bills.”

Mitch stopped chewing. Next to him, Jenn leaned forward the barest amount, more an intake of breath than a calculated motion. For a second, the crowded patio seemed to fall silent, and he could hear the rustling of leaves above them, the sound of traffic on Belmont.

“Nice.” Ian picked up his water glass and held it against his bad eye, the ice cubes tinkling. “You had me going.”

Jenn looked around the table, at Ian, at Alex, at Mitch, at Alex again, back at Ian again. “Is he kidding?”

“Of course he’s kidding.”

“I’m not.” Alex said it simple and quiet and firm. “I wish I were.”

“You’re serious?” Mitch set his fork down.

Alex nodded. “On my mother.”

The silence fell again.

“What did you do?”

“I packed my pockets and snuck out the back. Brunch is on me.” Alex stabbed at his eggs. “What do you think? I locked up, went back to the bar, and quietly shit myself.”

“You didn’t touch it?”

“No.”

“Come on.” Ian set down the water glass. No less puffy, his bad eye was now just slick with condensation. “Not even a little?”

“No.”

“How much was there?” Mitch asked.

“I don’t know,” Alex said around a mouthful. “A lot. Thing is, I got to thinking. What if it’s got something to do with the meeting? I had figured, you know, he was having trouble with his vegetable suppliers, wanted me there so he could look like the old tough Johnny Love. But there had to be a couple hundred grand. What if he’s going back into the drug business? Meeting with Colombians?”

“Or Outfit guys,” Mitch said. “Or undercover cops.”

“Jesus. If he got busted and I was there…”

“You have to find a new job.” Jenn’s voice was sharper than normal.

“Ya think?”

“You’re missing the worst part,” Ian said. “Insult to the injury. The money.”

Alex’s jaw fell open, then he gave a sound that wasn’t much like a laugh. “Three hundred bucks. I’m a bodyguard at a six-figure drug deal, and the cheap bastard is offering me three hundred bucks.” He made the sound again.

“You know what you should do?” Ian held a beat. “Clean out that safe before you quit.”

“Tempting,” Alex said. “But I think even Johnny Love could figure that one out.”

“Well, all you need to do,” Mitch said, “is not quit. Do it on a night you aren’t working, and don’t quit.”

“Right. Right.” Ian nodded, cracked his knuckles. “Keep a straight face.”

“Better yet,” Jenn said, “we should take it.”

“Yes!” Ian gave her gun fingers. “That’s it. In fact, do it on a night you are working. You stand at the bar all night, meanwhile, we’re emptying the safe.”

“We could cut through the roof with a torch,” Jenn said, “and then rappel from a helicopter.”

“Or tunnel in from the building across the street,” Mitch said, getting in the spirit.

“Meanwhile, I distract Johnny,” Jenn said. “I’ll wear one of those Bond-girl dresses from the Connery years. The short, mod ones that the villains’ girlfriends had. I’ve always wanted to.”

“I love it when a plan comes together,” Ian said, and raised his glass. “To screwing Johnny Love.”

“Screwing Johnny Love.” They clinked. Mitch leaned back in his chair, glad he’d come. A flawless blue sky and good friends. A sudden scrap of music began, Brandon Flowers urging smi-ile like you mean it, from the cell phone beside Alex’s napkin. He picked it up, shook his head, then hit a button to silence the notes.

“Work?”

“My ex.”

It seemed like maybe a look passed between Jenn and Alex, but it was just a flickering thing. Mitch dug into his neglected breakfast.

Ian said, “You guys know what the Prisoner’s Dilemma is?”

Alex groaned. “Not again.”

“What?”

“Let me guess. It’s another game.”

“Funny you should say that,” Ian deadpanned. “In fact, yes.”

“You do anything besides play games?”

“So,” Ian said, “two criminals are arrested. The cops know they did it, but they don’t have enough evidence. So they put them in separate cells and offer each a deal. If one rats on the other, he goes free. His partner, though, gets ten years. If they both keep quiet, the cops can only hit them with something minor, say, six months. But if both of them betray the other, bam, the cops can nail both, and they each get five years.”

There was something elegant in the situation. Mitch could see the whole game, almost see the equation behind it. He’d always been decent at math. “They both stay quiet.”

“You’d think, right? But the thing is, they can’t talk to each other. If one trusts the other and is betrayed, he gets twice the sentence he would have if they both ratted.”

“How well do they know each other?” Jenn asked.

“Not the point.”

“Sure it is. If they’re good friends, then they’ll trust that the other guy will do the right thing.”

“Ahh, but that’s a big assumption. I mean, imagine you make that leap, and find out your buddy screwed you? He walks free, you get ten years. That’s such a huge consequence that it becomes less important what you can gain, and more important what you could lose. Which means it’s not about trust.”

“What is it about, then?”

“Iteration. If you play only once, the best thing to do is to betray before you’re betrayed. Even if the other guy is a friend. Because he’s thinking the same thing.”

Jenn shook her head. “Did your mother not hug you or something?”

Ian gave her the finger. “But see, if you’re going to be playing again and again, then you keep the faith. Because six months in prison beats the consequences of mutual betrayal. So over time, the best result is to play square. But only over time.”

“Where do you get this shit?” Alex asked.

“Game theory, baby. So how about tomorrow night?”

“For what?”

“Screwing Johnny Love.”

“Yeah, fine,” Alex said. “I can’t believe I have to find a new job. And you know what? Johnny is enough of a dick, he probably will tell everybody I stole from him.”

“He won’t know it was you.”

“No, I mean from the registers…” Alex paused. Set his glass down, turned with a bemused expression. “Are you serious?”

Ian gave a shrug that was more eyebrows than shoulders. “Why not?”

“Because it’s stealing?”

“So what? You said this guy made his money selling drugs. You know how many people probably died because of that?”

“So?”

“Robbing a drug dealer, that doesn’t seem wrong to me. Plus, there’s no way we would get caught,” Ian said. “I mean, who would ever suspect us? None of us with a record, none of us ever having done anything like this, and you with an alibi. Big payoff for low risk. Betray and win.”