Morning Glory
“When I asked directions from the doorman in Adam’s apartment, he looked at me like I’d just gotten off the bus. Then again, it might have had something to do with the mussed state of my hair and lipstick.The bar at Elaine’s boasted an impressive population of Who’s Who and an even more impressive whiskey list, but no sign of Mike. I tracked down Elaine herself for my next clue.“Pomeroy?” she said with a wry and disturbingly knowing smile. “He left a few hours ago.”Crap. I was going to kill him ...for real. In one fell swoop, he’d threatened my (practically pathetic) career and my (finally looking up after a generally equally pathetic) love life.I tried the Algonquin bar up the street. Seems he’d hit that one, too. Ditto Bond 45.Kill him, kill him, kill him. I didn’t know if it was the lighting design in those bars or what, but I’d definitely started seeing red.At Smith’s Bar, a helpful patron related—after I plied him with an overpriced shot of Lagavulin—that Mike had headed toward ‘21’ Club.This time, I took a taxi.MoreLess
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