Adam Morrow lay awake in his hotel room listening to the muffled sounds of the Manhattan midnight thirty stories below him.
He was being silly, paranoid.
Everything would be fine.
He had had several stern talks with his friend Rick Corday about taking crazy risks.
The worst Rick would do was go get drunk somewhere and come on to some guy. And most likely the guy would say no, for there was something disturbing about Rick; something that had initially excited Adam but that now gave him pause, greater and greater pause, actuallyand then Rick would insult him and storm out.
Then he'd go home and get even drunker by himself.
Good old Rick.
Getting time to dump him, actually.
Sleep came to Adam, then, as he assured himself for a final time that he had cured Rick of his impulsive and insane risk-taking…
Sleep…