Chapter 14: Too Many Martinis
October 12, 2015
1:53 P.M.
Frankie and I had a little too much to drink because she was killer at making martinis. It wasn’t even five o’clock in the afternoon and we were blitzed and chatty. We were stuffed in my attic room, on the bed, side by side. She was keying buttons on her cellphone, checking her email. I was ready for a nap, yawning. Probably at any moment my eyes were going to close and I would pass, entering a dreamland state. I asked, “What do you think of Carl?”
“He’s terribly handsome, charming, and seems nice. Plus, he knows how to carry a conversation. And he wasn’t shy. You know how I don’t like quiet and shy guys. They scare me. I don’t know if they’re thinking about building bombs, or where to bury bodies.”
“I’m sure Carl doesn’t build
