Chapter 7: Casper, Are You There?
On Saturday morning Liv couldn’t believe what had happened at Club Sustantivo and gasped when I told her the news. We were drinking Arabian coffee in my sitting room, sunbathing in the August sunrays. She was wearing a cream-colored summer’s dress, flats, and arrived in a broad hat made of straw. The hat sat next to her on a satin settee. Liv sipped at her coffee, relishing the blend. “Who was the guy Donlito was with?”
“I really don’t know. Nor do I want to know. Part of me doesn’t even care.” I was on my fourth cup of java and felt a solid buzz. My hands shook and my heart raced. Beads of perspiration decorated my forehead, even in the air conditioning, which was set at sixty-eight degrees.
“Obviously the zoologist is a player.”
“A player I won’t be
