Saw there was no money in it. We talked about it, but….” “She wanted you to earn more?” “I got into Sales. There’s good money in Sales.”...“So I hear. But then, that ain’t everything.” Don motioned to the bartender, who obliged with another double. “So what brings you here?” the young man probed again after a short silence. “What else? Same as everyone else in Vegas.” “You didn’t make enough money in Sales?” “Yeah, yeah I made plenty, but what’s it to you?” Don slumped back in his seat, his fists. "Good. It shouldn't take me too long, but it's got to be done." He filled an ice bucket, got down a glass and a bottle of excellent scotch, then started for the door. "I'll be in my room if you want me. Just keep the noise down for a while."He trudged to his bedroom, closed the door, then crossed to his desk to pour a drink. He hated reports with a passion, and the scotch was necessary to make the job easier. Sitting down, he uncovered his typewriter, inserted paper, then sipped on his drink as. More

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