Chapter 11
Barry slowly emerged into consciousness. What time was it? He’d previously woken at 2:12, 4:26, and 7:28. “God, jetlag’s a b***h,” he groaned softly, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Holy crap!”
“Huh?” Jake said from behind him. By silent agreement the night before, Jake had slept in the middle.
“It’s past noon.” Barry stared at the black letters on his LCD alarm clock—12:18. He’d remembered to set it correctly hadn’t he? A quick look at the clock on his cell phone proved he had.
“I hate jetlag,” Jimmy said groggily from the other side of the bed.
“Me, too,” Jake admitted.
“I’m hungry,” Jimmy said, rubbing his stomach.
“Oh, s**t! Barry said. Was he too late to book a table for that night? Andrew, the waiter at Chez Matthew, didn’t take bookings more than a day in advance. Th
