I order the gin martini I’ve been anticipating
for the last twenty-four hours.
"Sorry. We only have wine.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
He shrugs, reaching for a laminated pamphlet
that lists the bottles at his disposal.
It’s wine country, after all.
I start to read through the vineyards,
but the compound names quickly blur—
I don’t know a thing about wine.
I shut the menu.
“Something very cold and strong.”
— Steinhauer, Olen. All the Old Knives (p. 22).
St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.