“I took a breath. Pictured the bed waiting for me upstairs. Then retreated to the lobbybar alone and ordered an ice-cold gin martini, a small signal to myself that my work was done. I held the glass, its inverted construction an insult to gravity and the order of things. Just like our Movement, from the outside the balance of power seems all wrong. But hold a martini glass in your hand and you know instinctively that it is just right.”

“Adrian ordered a martini, earning disapproving looks from his father and me.'It's barely noon,' said Nathan.'I know,' said Adrian. 'I'm surprised I held out that long too.”

“I just smiled and wished hard for the waitress to come back from Cancun or Mazatlan or wherever she was so I could order my martini.”

“How?" I demanded. "How could you have screwed this one up?""When I got in, they said the manager was on the phone and would be a few minutes. So, I sat down and ordered a drink."This time, I did lean my forehead against the steering wheel. "What did you order?""A martini.""A martini." I lifted my head. "You ordered a martini before a job interview.""It's a bar, Sage. I figured they'd be cool with it.”

“I should like to elbow aside the established pieties and raise my martini glass in salute to the mortal arts of pleasure.”

“She ordered a martini and encouraged me to, but said she couldn't drink it with her medication. She just liked seeing it in front of her, like the old days, all set to do its little magic.”