"Says he's looking for work."
"Patrick O'Shaunessy." Patrick extended his hand.
"Parker Ives." He looked Patrick over as they shook hands. "Ladders,
Patrick. Wasps," he said.
"No problem."
"Good. Meet me in the News Shop at 8; we'll see how it goes."
"Tomorrow?" Patrick asked.
"And tomorrow and—yes." Parker drained the glass of beer he was holding. "Tomorrow." He put his glass on the bar and left.
"Parker's all right. My name is Claude, by the way."
"Aieee, Claude! A thin blonde with green eye shadow and exaggerated cherry red lipstick put her arms around his neck.
"Excuse me, Patrick."