All Good Things__ - Michael Jan Friedman
CHAPTER I
He hated balalaika music, hated it with a passion. However, he would put up with it just this once. And not because he had to. He would put up with it specifically because he didn’t have to.
As he sat at his solitary table on a candlelit balcony overlooking the beach, sipping at his vodka and pushing a pitted olive around his plate, a woman emerged from the dining room within.
By local standards, she was quite beautiful, with alabaster skin and pale blond hair woven into a bun. S ...