Something told me that Steven did not ultimately belong in my future. Nor did the job at First Commodity Corporation of Boston.
After finishing graduate school in 1978, I had to go to work. It was time to find something that really paid the bills.
I was a nervous wreck for Stanley's dinner party and I happily shared the joint Charlie offered. Then he opened a bottle of wine and I was off to the races.
The Doyles rarely went out during the day, but became very active at night, when they would leave the house separately on their bikes. Where did they go? No one knew.