At the hotel bar was sitting the same black driver who had brought us here early morning. He was sipping a glass of whisky and nodded to me when he sa... me entering the place. I approached his table and accepted a seat close to him.I got a drink and soon that black man, whose name was Patrick, asked me if I was interested in going somewhere else; a place less noisy than the bar…I told him I was a married woman, but then I felt his strong hand touching my thigh behind the table. His fingers soon. His cuff links appeared to be small gold coins. "Right there, detriment." All I could see was the MLB letterhead and a scrawled signature. I wondered if he signed all his letters "Bud." Up to you," I said, resisting the urge to swallow the lump in my throat or cough it up and spit. The ghost of Christmas past was about to visit, I feared. I could hear the chains clanking.He rocked back in his chair while I thought of Marley's ghost."He says you beat up your wife and threatened your kid. You do. More

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