ybe decaf."Jack waved to Julio and mimed pouring a coffee pot."I thought we'd meet in a more private place," Lew said."This is private." Jack glanced at the empty booths and tables around them. The faint murmur of conversation drifted over from the bar area on the far side of the six-foot divider topped with dead plants. "Long as we don't shout."Julio came strutting around the partition carrying a coffee pot and a white mug. His short, forty-year-old frame was grotesquely muscled under his tight, sleeveless shirt. He was freshly shaven, his mustache trimmed to a line, drafting-pencil thin, his wavy hair slicked back. This was the closest Jack had got to him this afternoon, and he coughed as he caught a whiff of a new cologne, more cloying than usual."God, Julio. What is that?""Like it?" he said as he filled Lew's mug. "It's brand-new. Called Midnight.""Maybe that's the only time you're supposed to wear it."He grinned. "Naw. Chicks love it, man."Only if they've spent the day in a chicken coop, Jack thought but kept it to himself."Say," Lew said, pointing to all the dead vegetation around the room, "did you ever think of watering your plants?""Wha' for?" Julio said. "They're all dead
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