e' d taught me a few things. The color was too light for a Cabernet of that supposed age and quality. The smell was generic, fruit

mixture of pity and morbid curiosity. They were

ng, "Gabby, just apologize

generic California Merlot. It costs about five dollars a glass. The bottle, maybe twent

led out a hundred-dollar bil

as replaced by pure rage. He wasn' t expecting me to call

ice low and dangerous. "You always did. Walking around with y

personal space. The smell of whis

pping to a venomous whisper. "This is about prom night. This is about you g

-silent restaurant. "Nobody disrespects me in my tow

s, who had been standing by the bar, moved to block

bly, but no one said a word. No one mov

nd dollars you owe me. Or," he paused, letting his eyes roam over me in a way that made my ski

was extortion. It was a threat. My hand, hidden in my coat pocket, found