Chapter 17

“He’ll repair,” Oswald says to Richard. “Men who are in love with cats always do. We will give him the time he needs.”

“In due time.”

“It takes a village.”

Richard hisses, “I hate fucking Hillary. She needs to go away. Put her behind bars where she belongs. I still want to see all those illegal emails. I want to make America great…”

Collin Esposito arrives at the restaurant ten minutes later. He sits in Billy’s seat. Orders a Harvey Wallbanger. Grins from ear to ear, showing off his pearly whites. He’s the youngest of the three men, sixty, and the handsomest. Collin resembles Cary Grant. Old Hollywood. Great smile. Classy.

“Where’s Billy?” Collin asks Richard and Oswald.

“Crying over his dead pussy,” Richard says, smirking. “Someone get the guy a kitten. Surprise him with it. Then he can get back to his writing. All pussies can be replaced, but his writing can’t.”