After Casablanca..

The café had changed very little. In fact, it looked quite the same. The tables were mostly full, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. The only thing missing was music.
Rick approached the bar, where a sweaty young bartender greeted him. “What can I get you, sir?”
“You can just tell me where the owner is. I’d like to talk to him.” Rick heard the piano start playing in the background.
“Why he’s just right back there, sir, at the piano.”
Rick turned, “Sam?”
“That’s right, sir. You know ‘im?”
“I thought I did.” Rick said with a smile, “Thank you.”

“Mr. Rick! It’s you!”
“It’s me, Sam.”
“How’ve ya been, Mr. Rick?”
“Oh, I’ve been all right, Sam. It looks like you’re doing pretty well.”
Sam smiled sheepishly, “Well, I couldn’t just let the ol’ place die, Mr. Rick.”
“Do you own the café now?”
“That I do, Mr. Rick.”
“What happened to Ferrari?”
“He just couldn’t keep both places going. I had a good bit of money set aside, Mr. Rick, so I bought the place for a good price.”
“All that money you didn’t have time to spend, huh?”
“Somethin’ like that, Mr. Rick” Sam chuckled, and played a happy tune on his piano.
“Well, if you’re the owner, why are you still sitting at the piano?”
“Oh, I like it best out here, Mr. Rick.”
“It’s good to see you again, Sam.”
“Good to see you too. I wish you had told me before you went and disappeared.”
“I’m sorry, Sam. It was quick thing.”
“I understand. What are you doing back now, Mr. Rick?”
“I don’t really now, Sam. I thought maybe I’d stick around for a bit. You need someone else to work?”
Sam smiled his jolly smile, “I think we could work something out, Mr. Rick.”