A deep timber voice behind him said, “Mr. Juan, I presume?”
JC and Juan turned around to greet the individual but lowered their gaze in order to actually see the man’s face.
“My name is Phillip Johnston. I’m sorry I’m late. My boss, Denali, dropped his cell phone over board while fishing, and I had to deal with getting the replacement and reprogramming it for him. So what are we drinking, gentlemen?” Johnston enquired.
Johnston suffered from what is known as the small man complex, and yet he did everything possible to try and enhance his deficiency.
Juan instinctively grabbed JC’s massive arm to get his attention and without a spoken word sent JC off to a table. Then Juan indicated for Mr. Johnston to join him at an empty table in the corner. Juan took the seat in the corner with Johnston facing him.
Juan gathered his usual charm and offered, “No worries about the timing. I was just relaxing here. What would you like, sir?”
Johnston clapped his hands together and with a grin that would only have endeared him to a cockroach said, “How about my favorite local adult beverage, Jamaican Rum?”
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