“Gin! Gin, are you here?”“Right behind you,” I said.Finn shrieked and whirled around. I winced at the high-pitched sound.“Dammit, woman.” He clutched the folder to his chest. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“I don't judge you for what you've done, Gin. Why are you judging me for another man's mistakes?”

“See, Don, I have this question, and I hope you’ll be honest with me.”He pulled at the end of his eyebrow. “I think you know you can count on my honesty.”“Can I?” I asked with an edge. “All right, then tell me: How long have you been fucking me?”That caused him to stop tugging his brow. “I don’t know what you’re saying—”“Because if I was going to fuck you,” I interrupted, “I’d get a bottle of gin, some Frank Sinatra music…and a crash cart for the heart attack you’d have. But you, Don, you’ve been fucking me for years now, and I haven’t gotten any liquor, music, flowers,candy, or anything!”

“Archer's finger grazed hers. 'I feel you. As if you were connected to me by an invisible string.' He touched his chest. 'I feel you here. In my heart.”

“As he started 'Whisky and Gin' and the cheering and the shrieking filled my senses, I thought of Mama, shattered by the war and Papa's death and I wished with all my heart that she could understand how it felt to be us that night - how it felt to be eighteen and unbeaten, eighteen and alive.”

“By 12.30, Giles had consumed five gin-rickies, four gin-and-tonics, three gin-and-its, two gin-and-bitters, and one gin.”