“Are you angry with me?” Michelle asked, an alcohol induced slur clearly evident in her voice. “No!” I retorted. My hand was firmly on her elbow as I guided her back to our suite. “Yeth, you are.” Her drunken laughter echoed off the walls of the short hall that lead to the inner door. “Your jealous and pissed off that I fucked Marcus! And what was with all that ‘Old Boy’ nonsense?” “I just thought it added a kind of James...