Max sees Bob Stormy enter Churlows restaurant via the casino entrance. He’s wearing chino pants, brown leather shoes and a fitted, oversized, dark blue shirt. He’s had his beard trimmed and seems to have a bounce in his step. Max waves him over to his table.

‘G’day Bob.’ Max stands to greet the smartly dressed chairman of HAP.

Bob is carrying his small briefcase in his left hand and extends his right. Max accepts, and they shake hands like old school pros. ‘Good morning. Nice spot.’

‘It’s my second office.’ Max gestures for Bob to take a seat and catches Seb’s attention. ‘Except the coffee is better here.’

Bob chuckles. He takes his seat opposite Max and puts his brown briefcase on the chair next to him.

‘Are you hungry?’

‘I’m always hungry Max.’ Bob taps his big belly. ‘But I’ve already eaten.’

‘I can recommend “The Big Breaky” if you’re looking for a good feed.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

Seb appears at the table. ‘Good morning gentlemen, are we here for breakfast?’

‘Just coffee for starters, mate.’

Seb organises the table like he’s playing speed chess. ‘The usual for you Max, and how does your guest take his coffee?’

Bob seems impressed with Seb’s attention to detail. ‘Just a cappuccino for me,’ he says.

Seb jots down the order on a tiny notebook. ‘That’s two cappuccinos.’ He smiles, bows slightly, and glides towards the main bar area and through to the kitchen in the back.

‘Great service,’ Bob says.

‘Yeah. Seb can be a little over the top sometimes, but he’s a great restauranter—and he’s a small, but enthusiastic, shareholder.’

Bob opens his briefcase a crack and pulls out a manilla folder filled with documents. ‘Well, thanks for meeting with me today Max.’

‘Of course. How’s the takeover looking?’

‘So far so good.’ Bob pulls out some paperclipped documents from the manila folder. ‘I’ve got a couple of things we need to get sorted.’

‘Whatever you need.’

‘Well, you’ll be pleased to know the board has accepted your recommendation to appoint William MacEvoy as head of Technology Delivery. Whatever that means.’ Bob laughs at his own remark.

‘That’s great news.’ William MacEvoy? No wonder they all call him Billy-Mac. ‘Billy—William—is a great resource.’

‘I’m sure he is.’ Bill flips the paperclipped document to the last page. ‘Just sign here and here and he can start on the twenty seventh.’ He reaches back into his briefcase and pulls out a shiny black Montblanc and passes it to Max.

‘Do I need to read it?’

‘If you want.’ Bob flicks through the other documents in the manilla folder. ‘It basically says we'll pay him a fortune, give him some options, and guarantees twelve months with two one year options. Just like you asked.’

‘Great,’ Max says, signing both copies, ‘You’re pretty sure the takeover will happen then?’

‘We’re approaching ninety percent. There’s a small group of shareholders who reckon we sold too cheap, but there’s not enough of them to stop the deal.’ Bob hands a signed contract to Max, leaving a copy in the folder.

Seb appears holding a small tray with two saucered cups. He places one in front of Max and the other in front of Bob. ‘That’s two cappuccinos. Let me know if there's anything else.’

‘Nice venue you have here,’ Bob says.

‘Thank you, I make a living.’ The three men share a laugh. ‘I’ll be able to retire soon, with you and Max taking care of my money.’

‘That will be a loss to the rest of us,’ Bob says.

‘I’ve worked hard all my life. The pure and simple truth is I’m ready for a very long sleep.’ The three men laugh synchronously.

‘Well, the truth is rarely pure and never simple.’

‘Oscar Wilde.’ Seb smiles knowingly at Bob.

‘I took a minor in theatre and drama to break up my economics degree.’ Max has no idea what either of them are talking about. ‘I’m a big fan of Oscar, my wife and I want to see the production at the Princess Theatre before it finishes.’

Seb’s eyes twinkle. ‘My friend manages the Princess, I’m sure I can organise you some great seats.’

Bob relaxes and smiles broadly. ‘That’d be fantastic.’

‘That would be my pleasure,’ Seb says. ‘What about you Max, fancy a night at the theatre?’

‘I’m good mate, but thanks for asking.’

Seb bows slightly and glides away again.

Max takes a sip of his coffee. ‘So, what else do we need to cover?’

Bob leaves a little froth on the moustache of his silver beard. ‘The contract was the main thing.’ Max hands him a napkin. Bob puts his cup onto the saucer and wipes his face clean. ‘We’re still untangling this business of yours.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Max says.

Bob takes another document from the manila folder. ‘Take me through this, Max.’ He turns it to face Max. ‘What were you doing buying NASDAQ shares? This doesn't look like core business, it looks like speculation.’

‘They’re going to be worth a fortune one day.’ Max says.

‘Maybe so, but the new investors are pretty conservative and they like things as clean as possible.’

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

‘So, what do we need to do?’

‘Well, they aren't worth much, just transfer them to yourself or whoever you want. Just make sure they aren’t on the balance sheet when the deal is done.’

‘I’ll take care of it.’

Seb returns to the table and hands Bob a business card. ‘This is the number of my friend at the Princess. I’ve told him to expect a call from you and he promises me you will have the time of your life.’

Bob accepts the card and passes one of his to Seb. ‘Thank you.’

‘Quiet before the storm,’ Max says to Seb with a glance around the empty restaurant.

‘Yeah, this place will be packed tomorrow. We’ve just finished the Christmas and New Years break and tomorrow is another public holiday.’

‘Crazy stuff,’ Bob says.

‘Yeah.’ Seb feigns wiping his brow. ‘Still, can’t complain. Everyone who's anyone in Melbourne will be at the casino tomorrow, so business will be good.’

Max finishes his coffee. ‘Don’t forget I’m here for lunch.’

‘I’ve reserved this table for you. If I’m busy, just seat yourself. If someone’s taken the table, let one of the staff know. We’ll sort it out—would you like another coffee?’

‘Not for me, thanks.’ Bob puts up his hand.

‘I’m good too.’

‘Ok. Well, thank you gentlemen. I’ll put the coffees on your tab Max, and Bob, it was a pleasure to meet you.’

‘Likewise,’ Bob says. Seb disappears and Bob puts away the shares document, leaving the file open to a page titled “First round redundancies”.

‘What’s this?’ Max says. ‘I thought we told everyone their jobs were safe.’

‘We did, but we have the shareholders to appease, and they’ll be looking for efficiencies from the takeover.’ Max scans the list. Ceebee’s name is on it. ‘You’re not supposed to see this, but if there’s any other name you think should be on it, let me know.’

Max considers suggesting Lee. ‘No, that looks fine.’

‘Don’t worry Max, they’ll all get paid out and do pretty well.’

‘Good,’ says Max.

‘Well, I have to go. It was a pleasure to see you Max. I’m on holidays until the tenth, so I’ll see you when I get back.’ The two men shake hands as Bob stands from the table. He diverts on his way out to farewell Seb as well.

Seb disappears back into the kitchen and returns with an ashtray and bottle of wine. He sits in Bob’s empty chair and offers Max a cigarette.

‘How’d it go?’

Max accepts the smoke as Seb pours two glasses of wine. ‘It went well. Thanks for setting up the table and making a fuss.’

‘That’s what I do. What was that he was saying about redundancies?’

‘You weren't supposed to hear that.’

‘It’s my business to hear things.’ Seb smiles and offers Max a toast.

‘Well don’t say anything to anyone. The last thing we want is to be done for insider knowledge.’ says Max, clinking their glasses.

Seb feigns zipping his mouth and lights his and Max’s cigarette.

A fireball releases into the sky from the pylons outside and the crowds gather and gush.

WEDNESDAY THE 26TH ON AUSTRALIA DAY

Billy Mac flicks the catch and passes through the small gate separating Churlows’ outdoor seating area from the esplanade and the Yarra. He steps back a couple of times to dodge around the mass of people celebrating the public holiday and the swelling number of patrons finding their seats within. He looks around and checks his watch. Max sticks his hand up to wave him over to his corner table.

‘G’day, mate.’

Billy seems a bit on edge. ‘G’day.’

‘New haircut?’

Billy looks clean shaven and is wearing his dark dress jeans, a white shirt, and his favourite, terracotta-red leather jacket. ‘I’m meeting the girlfriend’s family this arvo.’

Max offers Billy the seat Bob Stormy occupied the day before. ‘The things we do for a root.’

‘I wish.’ Billy laughs.

Max lights a cigarette and throws the packet across the table in front of Billy.

‘No thanks mate, I’ve given up.’

Max shrugs and takes a deep drag, blowing smoke in Billy’s face. ‘Guess what I got.’ He turns over the document on the table between them. Billy’s eyes light up. ‘You start on the twenty seventh.’

Billy leans in and narrows his eyes, pointing his finger down as he reads the text.

‘It’s a pretty good deal. Basically three years, at fifty-K more than you wanted, and some options.’

‘Fuck!’ Billy grabs a cigarette from the packet and Max lights it for him. ‘I don't know what to say Max, this is unbelievable.’

‘Yeah, you can thank me later. We’ve got a lot of work to do.’ Max nods at the bar and Seb catches his eye. ‘I ordered you a coffee. You’re still drinking coffee, yeah?’

Billy laughs out loud. ‘Yeah mate.’ He takes a drag of his smoke and blows it back at Max.

Green and gold patrons continually stream into the restaurant, many with British flag face paint.

‘Look at this lot.’ Max jerks his head towards a full table right on the white picket fence that borders the seating area.

The long trestle is crowded with a group of young loud men and many empty beer jugs and glasses strewn everywhere. Everytime a fire ball is released from the nearby pylon they shout in unison “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie!'' and as the ball of flame dissipates, they shout “Oi, Oi, Oi!” and start cheering each other and checking the crowd to see who's watching.

‘Each to their own,’ says Billy.

Seb appears with two mugs. ‘Good morning, gents.’

‘Busy day,’ Max says.

‘Just getting started.’ Seb places the mugs on the table. ‘Wait ‘til lunchtime really kicks in, there’ll be more people in here than a Black Friday sale.’

Billy takes a sip of his coffee and a drag of his smoke.

‘Billy’s gonna come work for us next month.’ Max raises his mug at Billy who clinks with him and they sip their coffees in unison.

‘Congratulations!’ says Seb. ‘Max told me to make sure the best seat in the house was available on my busiest day, so I’m guessing you’re pretty good.’

‘He’s the fuckin’ best.’

Billy glows. Seb winks at Max.

‘We’ll be heading off soon, mate.’ Max promised Seb he’d clear the table before midday. ‘I don't wanna be around for the lunch time invasion.’ He pulls out his black Amex from his shirt pocket and hands it to Seb. ‘And sort out my account, please.’

Seb replaces their ashtray with a fresh one. ‘It’s a pleasure doing business with you Max.’

‘The pleasure is all mine.’ Max loves the hospitality game. He offers Billy another cigarette and lights one for himself. ‘So, what’s next?’

‘Barbeque at the girlfriend’s parents' place.’

‘Sounds like a hoot.’ They burst out laughing. ‘Well thanks for agreeing to meet up today, mate.’

‘Thanks for rescuing me from the first half of the barbie.’

‘My pleasure, mate. Just show them that fucking contract and they’ll want you to marry their little angel.’

‘You’re not wrong, I think they already booked the wedding venue. What about you mate, what do you have planned?

‘Not much, mate—gonna get some R&R, take a bit of time out, recharge the batteries.’

‘Sounds good.’

‘You got anymore of those tabs?’

‘Not on me, I’m heading straight to my girlfriend’s.’

‘No worries then,’ Max says

Billy puts down his mug, rolls the contract into a tube shape and tucks it in his jacket. ‘I’d better be heading off.’

Max stands and shakes his hand. ‘Well done mate, I reckon we’re headed for a big year.’

Seb waits for Billy to leave before returning. He’s holding Max’s credit card pressed against a handwritten receipt.

‘Thanks mate,’ Max says.

‘He seems nice.’ Seb sits where Billy had, and Bob the day before. ‘Did I hear you say you were looking for a bit of holiday cheer?’

Max folds the receipt around his credit card and puts it in his shirt pocket. Little seems real anymore, money feels like something he used to worry about. Yeah mate, what ya got?’

‘What are you in the mood for?’ Seb resets the table and smiles cheekily at Max.

Victoria, but she’s at the tennis. Everyone else is on holiday. ‘Something light. A bit of fun.’

Seb grins knowingly. ‘Try one of these, they’ll make you smile.’

Max places the small tab on the tip of his forefinger. It has a yellow smiley face on it.