I put the comment aside for now, focused on the last part of what he'd said. "Sure you are, Mr. Vodka-Tonic for breakfast," I said. He shrugged. "Fuck...it. It's vacation." I threw a total of forty points. This wasn't getting any prettier. He laughed. "Are you even going to make me work for this win?" I offered a faint snicker. Then, without dignifying the question with any further response, I asked, "What about Jack and Mark? Where are they?" "Hanging out in the living room of our suite. I think. Of course, that was no surprisesince this was the same expression that Hammer normally wore around him.Hammer had never given Esquire the respect that he knew he deserved, andreacted to his clever plans with contempt.Hammer was a large boy, not so much in height, but in musculature. Heradiated a certain sense of physical power, along with a willingness touse it. However, when Esquire looked at Hammer, there was one word thatimmediately came to mind. Thug. Hammer was a thug, who solved all. More

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