Free Fridays by Pat Tucker

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    Soon, two drinks were delivered to their table. Samantha didn’t have to look up at the handsome stranger to know they were compliments of him and his equally gorgeous friend.
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    When Riley’s cell phone rang, he didn’t want to look at it, much less answer. He was tired of Bill and his woe-is-me attitude.
    Each Friday, he tried to leave work a little early to have a few brews with his boy before he called it a night and went home. Most of those outings ended fine with Riley making it in well before midnight, but after last Friday, he started to wonder whether they should find something else to do.
    â€œIt’s about time,” he said when the phone stopped ringing. But a few minutes later, the phone rang again.
    â€œAey, Dawg. Let’s go to this new spot in Third Ward,” Bill said the second Riley answered.
    â€œI don’t know. I was thinking about sitting it out tonight, Playboy,” Riley said.
    â€œNah, Dawg! Nah. I’m telling you. You’ll like this spot.”
    Riley was reluctant, but Bill sounded so desperate. Riley knewhe was probably lonely considering he was divorced and his girlfriend had dumped him.
    â€œC’mon, Man. This place is real chill, I’m telling you. The honeys be in the house, and they even got a live band tonight,” he said.
    Riley found it hard to ignore the desperation in his boy’s voice. He didn’t like it, but he knew it was real. Long before the divorce was final, it seemed like Bill was focused on being out and seen as much as possible, and he wanted Riley at his side.
    â€œAll right, look. I’ll roll, but I’m not trying to stay out too late,” Riley said.
    Hours later, Riley was a little pissed when he pulled up at 3000 Blodgett Street in Houston’s Third Ward. It was where he and Bill had agreed to meet.
    The area, in Houston’s historic part of town, was hit and miss, with a combination of lounges and dive bars. Some places were nice, and others were far less so.
    Inside, the brisk air-conditioned breeze was a welcomed relief.
    Riley walked up to the bar and ordered a beer. He looked around the small interior and took in the sleek ambiance. A DJ was perched near the front door behind a long table that held several large aluminum containers. A small line of people gathered near it, for the complimentary catfish and fries.
    â€œHey, Dawg, how long you been here?”
    Picking up the green bottle, Riley extended it toward Bill and said, “I was about to leave after this if you hadn’t showed up. This is my second.”
    â€œAw, Man. Well, I’m here now. Sorry about the wait; I was at my lawyer’s office when we talked earlier.”
    Bill was still in a battle trying to save his job. He had hired an attorney, and it looked like he might be successful, but it was taking time.
    â€œThe next round is on me,” he said to Riley.
    â€œCool. Bet that,” Riley said.
    At first Riley felt bad that he was reluctant to hang out with his boy. They talked about the upcoming game Sunday night and ate some of the fish and fries. He finally felt like he needed to relax and enjoy his time out with his boy.
    â€œCan we get another round?” Bill asked the female bartender.
    Once their drinks were refreshed, Riley turned to look out at the growing crowd. Bill didn’t exaggerate when he said the honeys would be out in force. The women outnumbered the men by at least five to one, and any real man could appreciate those odds.
    Riley was settling in for a nice evening when the door opened and in walked Kelly. Riley looked over at Bill, then at his friend’s former mistress, and suddenly it hit him that he’d been set up.

CHAPTER
8
    L ater that night, Leela applied moisturizer to her arms and legs after a hot shower. She sat on her side of the bed while her husband went down to make sure the house was secure.
    It was nearly one in the morning,