Three hours later, Paul found himself in Pasadena, just off Colorado Blvd. He had taken a cab, so nobody in the neighborhood would recognize his car. He received a few stares when he entered the house, but most of the men there were more interested in each other than gawking at him. Besides that, Paul was not the most prominent, or recognizable, person in the house. Keeping his head down, he worked his way to the back of the house, searching for the kitchen and something cold to drink. Even though he moved quickly, he surveyed the room thoroughly.
By the time he reached the kitchen, he knew exactly what he wanted.
Paul had never been in this particular house before, but the parties were all the same, regardless of where they were held. When he was younger, he had been stupid. He thought
