Jack was on his third scotch, eyeing the wedding guests and idly pondering lithe brunette versus busty redheadâ€”heâ€™d been avoiding blondesâ€”when his cellphone vibrated in his pocket.
He thought about not answering itâ€”everybody whose call he absolutely had to take was in the reception hallâ€”but yapping on the phone beat standing around watching other people have a good time.
The number wasnâ€™t familiar to him. â€śDonovan.â€ť
The music was too loud, to say nothing of the voices and laughter, … Read More »