Chapter 28

His swim trunks were snug, he had a noticeable bulge, even from this distance. "He reminds me of..." Kat's voice trailed away. The man turned, so she got a look at his face. "It can't be. Okay, no it's not."

"Who?" I asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Sort of," Kat said.

"There's a story here," I said. "Good or bad?"

"Good. And bad," she said. "Well, sort of. I mean, good. But."

"Maybe just tell me," I offered.

The waitress returned with our cocktails, then she popped the Champagne. I never got tired of how the club waitresses, especially at the pool, made such a show of bending over directly in front of you to do simple tasks like pouring a drink or opening a bottle.

"I think you gave me pink-eye," I joked with her before she left. I felt some tension from Kat and wanted to break it. I turned my eyes toward her.

"So there was this guy, Patrick, who I used to see in Vegas sometimes," Kat began. "He was a model, and I don't re