He walked toward it, mumbling her name beneath his breath. He hated to be cold. Grant found her standing near the railing of the small balcony, her wh...te nightgown whipping in the wind. Animated by the ocean breeze, Carrie’s hair seemed to dance and fly from her bare shoulders. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks below the hotel prevented him from listening to her. He could read Carrie like a book. He knew when she sang she was either extremely happy or extremely sad. When she. "Bloody hell, Sal. In front of me?" What?" he said, with a sneer. "What the hell are you talking about?" Oh, Sal," she said, in a snide tone. "The legendary investigativereporter," she said, rubbing his arm. "You two couldn't even wait untilI wasn't there." What the fuck is your problem?" What the fuck is my problem? What the fuck is my problem? She'sthrowing herself at you and you don't even give a fuck about her." Who the fuck are you to say about whom I do or do not give a fuck?"Esme. More

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