'I don't work for you anymore." Were the first words to escape his mouth as a middle aged man in slacks and white button-up shirt sat down across from him in that smokey speakeasy. The who hadn't seen each other is some time, in some distant place. "Tyler," the voice responds, let's not talk about business, we have enough history together since Tuscon to wipe away formalities..." The two sat there, in a silent agreement as a waitress drops off two glasses of a single malt. "I do have to ask you, for one last rodeo though, as a favor, Ty..." "What do you want, Travis?" Tyler takes a sip from the glistening vessel in front of him. "How do you feel about Houston?"
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