He walked over to the terrace and slid open the heavy glass door. The wet heat pummeled his body and he was reminded that his jeans would have to come off right away if he were going to survive outside. He looked down onto the snow-white beach and the well-manicured recreation area.Blue umbrellas dotted the area around the outdoor restaurant; several amoeba-shaped swimming pools covered the rest of the grounds.
Weatherworn permanent cabanas that resembled straw huts lined the beach.
The view was finished off by hundreds of pink-skinned doctors lounging, drinking, swimming, and ensuring that they’d be in perfect shape for their upcoming scientific meeting.
Among the people a very graceful woman stood out, reminding Alex of a swan who looked like she didn’t quite belong among all these ducks. Jennifer Klum moved along the beach greeting doctors, quite oblivious to the attention she received.
Deep in thought, he went back inside and closed the door behind him.
What else could go so right—or so wrong? He knew his mind was messed up and he wasn’t feeling anything like his old self. Not by a long shot. That was a combination that could lead him into trouble.
From Killer Drug, by Peter Rost.
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