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Chapter Twenty-Nine
Nick
“My vote’s for pork. Beef gets all fucking tough and stringy if you don’t do it up right,” Pee Bee said.
I turned away from the meat case and shot him a look. “If you don’t do it up right?”
He nodded. “You know, if a fucker don’t know how to cook it.”
“What can I get for you?” the butcher asked.
“We’re not sure yet,” I said. “Give us a minute.”
He wiped his hands against his apron and grinned. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes.”
I turned toward Pee bee. “You come to last year’s barbeque, Peeb?”
“You know I did, why?”
“Year before?”
“What the fuck you gettin’ at, asshole?”
“Were you here year before last? At the barbeque?”
He sighed, and then nodded. “Yep.”
“Was the barbeque good?”
“Damn good.”
“Flavorful?”
“It was good as fuck, why?”
“Was any of it stringy or tough?”
He shook his head. “I just said it was good.”
“Ryder was in charge of the smoker for the last two years. If you liked it, it’d stand to fuckin’ reason that he’d know how to cook the fuckin’ meat.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
“We’ll get some of each. Fifty-fifty.”
“Get more pork than beef. Beef ribs are a fuckin’ bitch to get right, Boss.”
I folded my arms in front of my chest and glared at him. “Didn’t we just settle this? Fifty-fifty?”
“We didn’t settle it. You did. You don’t ever fuckin’ listen to me. You might ask, but you don’t give a fuck what I say.”
“Oh, so now you got your fuckin’ feelers hurt huh? Over some beef ribs?”
“Make a decision yet? The butcher asked.
We both glared at him.
“I’ll just…I’ll…I’ll come back in a few minutes,” he said.
