Chapter 24
HEATH
Friday afternoon
Manhattan sure knows how to kick the s**t out of a man.
The music is pumping, the speakers buzzing. A bass too intense for the sound system blares through the air, and as I stroll my way into the club—soaked on every inch of skin—I shake a slew of ice flakes from my shoulders.
So much for having an LA winter.
It would have been my first real Los Angeles winter season, my first foray into an eighty-degree Christmas. Instead, I’m here—a strip club, no less.
I came back to New York for two reasons…and both involved Marilyn. Now, standing here in a cheesy exotic bar rife with bottom shelf liquor and purple walls, I don’t know how to tell a friend—a man I haven’t seen in seven years that the person he once knew…is a f*****g fraud.
Jesse sits down as I a
