”“Just like that?” I asked.“Yep, just like that. I own the club,” Lenny chuckled.When they left, I called Pennie and told her to finish what...ever she was working on and go home early, but she declined, saying that she wanted to finish the day so she could sort through the files that were dropped off earlier. I put Lenny’s employment proposal in my briefcase and headed home. *** As I put together the stir fry, I found it difficult to focus. My once routine life was in upheaval between the. “Fuck! And who is Rhonda?”“Rhonda...” he sounded puzzled. “You know, his wife.”“His wife!?”I was freaked beyond belief. More than the news that he’d been shot, it blew my mind to find out first that he had a wife and second that he did gardening shit. Roberto? I thought ... are we talking about the same Roberto? Porn king of the West coast and all of Europe but Germany? What the fuck?I don’t remember the rest of the conversation, my mind was slightly unhinged from all the revelations. Two days. Born sometime in the late twenties, he was raised dirt poor on a depression era farm, served in the Army during the world war, and come home to bury a wife. He remarried and raised a family by scrapping out a living on that same farm, supplementing his income and larder by poaching deer, running a bit of shine now and then, and anything else that fell to his hand. Perhaps raising a little hell or taking a drink was an outlet for the stress of desperation.His one passion was turkey hunting, to. "The reason I ask," he continued, "is that we live north of here. I won't tell you how far, but we have to drive for a while to get here." He chuckled. "I wouldn't want us to accidentally meet on the street. There's no telling what would happen."She relaxed ever so slightly and brushed at his damp strands of hair. "Yeah, they'd probably require fire hoses to put out the blaze..." Don't forget the jaws of life to pry us apart." That too! Don't worry, I live south of here." Ah, good. That means.