That summer he was the only guy who was either brave enough or stupid enough to ask her out. She had just broken her engagement with Gabe in June, and every night that summer when he went to the Miami Bar on North Eighth Street she’d be there hanging out with girlfriends. And like clockwork, early in the night, she’d leave the table and saunter across the room to play “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” on the jukebox. Though new to hanging out on North Eighth Street, he knew this much: Gabe managed a well-known rhythm and blues band and his father was a wise-guy, but Georgia was knock-out sexy. He asked his cousin Little Guy if he should ask her out since Little Guy knew the world of Williamsburg, Brooklyn and its rules better than he did. “Shit yeah,” Little Guy answered. So he made a plan. He’d walk up to the jukebox where nobody could hear them talk, ask her out and then leave the bar. His friend Frankie would already be in the car and they’d drive away. It was like a hit, but one for romance.
