“How much are you down?” I ask.
“It’s really not all that much,” he says. “I never like to let a client[9] hold onto too much money for too long. A lot of people don’t know how to handle large sums of money. They start to get ideas.”
“How much?” I ask.
“Does the number really matter?” he asks. “It’s not like it makes any difference.”
“Chris,” I say, looking my brother hard in the eyes, “how much?”
“I don’t have the exact figures at the moment, but if you’ll give me and my secretary until Friday—” he starts.
“You have five seconds either to tell me how much you’re down or to grab your stuff and get out of my house,” I tell him.
He sighs.
“It’s really not that big a deal,” he says. “My partner[10] doesn’t know about my other investors[11], so it’s not like I’m really down,” he says, “but I’ve got about two-fifty tied up in all of it.”
“Tell me that’s just in normal dollars and not in the hundreds of thousands,” I breathe.
“Yeah, sure, of course it is,”[12] he says.
“Where do you even get your hands on that kind of cash?” I ask. “I thought you dealt with smaller cons. Even the longer ones were only ever a couple thousand here and there. What have you gotten yourself into? Are the cops looking for you? Do they know about you?”
“No,” he says. “I’ve got a friend on the force[13] who gives me the heads-up if someone files a report. I’m not that worried about the money,[14] really, I just want what’s mine.”
“You’re not in with loan sharks or anything like that, are you?” I ask.
“Are you kidding me?” he asks. “People like that hate people like me. It never really made sense to me, though. When ya think about it, we are pretty much in the same line of work.”
“So there’s nobody that’s going to come after you if you don’t go back for that money,” I say.
Chris’s eyes go wide and he’s shaking his head as he takes a step back.
“That’s mine,[15] bro,” he says. “I love you and everything, but this place isn’t exactly worth giving up all I’ve worked so hard to achieve.”[16]
“It’s not your money,” I tell him. “You have an opportunity here. You can finally make the change we both know you need to make and I’m willing to help you every step of the way, but I need to know—and I mean absolutely know—that you’ve given up the life.”
“I don’t see why your panties are in such a bunch,” he says. “I pitch in with food. I’ve helped you with rent when I’ve stayed with you before…”
“You mean last time you were here and you gave me fifty bucks to replace the toilet seat you broke—how, I still don’t know—and with the food, I’m assuming you’re talking about that time you bought Funyuns and forgot to take them with you when you left?” I ask.
“You can paint me any way you want to, but this isn’t a one-sided deal,” he says. “I help you, too.”
“You’ve helped me before,” I tell him. “You helped a lot when I was younger and that’s probably why we haven’t had this conversation until now, but I’m sick of it, Chris! I never know when you’re going to show up, and when you do, there’s always the chance I come home to police cars and helicopters.”
“Oh, I’ve never brought the fuzz home with me,” he says, making another grab for the remote control.
“That’s just the worst case scenario,” I tell him, pulling the remote away from him. “Usually, you end up drinking all day, every day, and you never miss a chance to humiliate me. It’s really not that much better.”
“So, what?” he asks. “You want me to give up a quarter of a mil just because I like the sauce?”
“If it was actually your money, I’d tell you to spend it on rehab and some serious counseling,” I tell him. “Since it’s not, I’d say the bigger gesture would be giving it all up in favor of your new life.”
“I can’t do that,” he says. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’d do that.”
“Then I guess we both know what happens next,” I tell him. “You’ve got five seconds to grab your stuff and get out of my house.”
For a second, he just stands there, but as soon as I actually start counting, suddenly, he has a lot to say.