The story continues from part 1 of “Poker with the guys.”
Thirty minutes later, Didrik pulled into the driveway of a nondescript ranch house at the end of a dead-end suburban street, exactly the type of place he imagined someone like Steve living. The guys’ firm handshakes and offers of whiskey and cigars put Didrik at ease, and after playing a few hands, he felt less like their interloping boss and more like one of their peers.
“Hey, do we have any more chips?” Doug called from the kitchen during a snack break.
“Don’t ask me,” Bill said. “Jim was supposed to do this shopping this week.”
“No way, man,” Jim said, returning from the garage with a fresh bottle of whiskey and a bag of ice. “I mowed the lawn this week. It was Steve’s turn to go shopping.”
Didrik was confused and intrigued by the conversation. “Wait a minute,” he said. “You all… live together?”
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