I passed the cell phone to Jennie. “My mom’s name is Leah, and she’s very nice. Everyone loves her.”

Jennie shrugged and grabbed the phone. “Hello, Leah? This is Jennie. How are you?…Oh, I’m fine, thanks for asking…. Yes, he’s okay…. Uh-huh, yes, okay, hold on a second.” Jennie puther hand over the mouthpiece and said, “She said she wants to speak to you again.”

Unbelievable! I thought. That was very rude of my mother to blow off my future wife like that! I grabbed the phone and hung up on her. Then I smiled from ear to ear, lay back down on the couch, and pointed to my loins.

Jennie nodded eagerly, leaned over me, and started sucking…and grabbing…and yanking…and pulling…and then sucking some more…. Still, for the life of me I couldn’t seem to get the blood flowing. But my young Jennie was a trooper, a determined little teenager she was, not about to quit without giving it a full college try. Fifteen minutes later she finally found that special little spot, and next thing I knew I was hard as a rock—fucking her mercilessly on a cheap white cloth couch and telling her that I loved her. She told me that she loved me too, at which point we both giggled. It was a happy moment for us as we marveled at how two lost souls could fall so deeply in love so quickly—even under these circumstances.

It was amazing. Yes, in that very instant—just before I came—Jennie was everything to me. Then an instant later I wished she would vaporize into thin air. A terrible sinking feeling washed over me like a hundred-foot tidal wave. My heart sank into the pit of my stomach. I visibly sagged. I was thinking of the Duchess: I missed her.

I needed to speak to her desperately. I needed for her to tell me that she still loved me and that she was still mine. I smiled sadly at Jennie and told her that I needed to speak to Dave for a second and that I’d be right back. I went out into the club, found Dave, and told him that if I didn’t leave this place right this second I might kill myself, which would put him in deep shit, since it was his responsibility to keep me alive until things settled down a bit. So we left, without saying good-bye to Jennie.

Dave and I were sitting in the back of the limo, on our way to his house in Broken Sound, a gated community in Boca Raton. The Uniblinker had fallen in love with a stripper and stayed behind—and I was now considering slitting my wrists. I felt myself crashing; the cocaine was wearing off and I was falling from an emotional cliff. I needed to speak to the Duchess. Only she could help me.

It was two in the morning. I grabbed Dave’s cell phone and dialed my home number. A woman’s voice answered, but it wasn’t the Duchess’s.

“Who’s this?” I snapped.

“It’s Donna.”

Oh, shit!Donna Schlesinger was just the sort of catty bitch who’d eat this shit up. She was a childhood friend of Nadine’s, and she’d been jealous of her since she was old enough to understand the concept. I took a deep breath and said, “Let me speak to my wife, Donna.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”

That enraged me. “Just put her on the fucking phone, Donna.”

“I told you,” snapped Donna, “she doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Donna,” I said calmly, “I’m not fucking around here. I’m warning you right now that if you don’t put her on the phone I’m gonna fly back to New York and stick a fucking knife through your heart. And then, when I’m done with you, I’m going after your husband, just on general principles.” Then I screamed, “Put her on the phone right fucking now!”

“Hold on,” said a very nervous Donna.

I rolled my neck, trying to calm myself down. Then I looked at Dave and said, “You know I didn’t really mean that. I was just trying to make a point.”

He nodded and said, “I hate Donna as much as you do, but I think you ought to let Nadine be for a couple of days. Just back off a bit. I spoke to Laurie, and she said Nadine is pretty shaken up.”

“What else did Laurie say?”

“She said that Nadine won’t take you back unless you go to drug rehab.”

Just then over the cell phone: “Hi, Jordan, it’s Ophelia. Are you okay?”

I took a deep breath. Ophelia was a good girl, but she couldn’t be trusted. She was the Duchess’s oldest friend, and she would want the best for us…but, still…the Duchess had crawled inside her mind…manipulated her…turned her against me. Ophelia could be an enemy. Still, unlike Donna, she wasn’t evil, so I found her voice somewhat calming. “I’m okay, Ophelia. Will you please put Nadine on the phone?”

I heard her sigh. “She won’t come to the phone, Jordan. She won’t speak to you unless you go to rehab.”

“I don’t need rehab,” I said sincerely. “I just need to slow down a bit. Tell her I will.”

“I’ll tell her,” said Ophelia, “but I don’t think it’ll help. Listen, I’m sorry, but I gotta go.” And just like that she hung up the phone on me.

My spirits plunged even lower. I took a deep breath and dropped my head in defeat. “Unbelievable,” I muttered under my breath.

Dave put his arm on my shoulder. “Are you all right, buddy?”

“Yeah,” I lied, “I’m fine. I don’t wanna talk right now. I just need to think.”

Dave nodded, and we spent the remainder of the ride in silence.

Fifteen minutes later I was sitting in Dave’s living room, feeling hopeless and desperate. The insanity seemed even worse now; my spirits had plunged to impossible depths. Dave was sitting next to me on the couch, saying nothing. He was just watching and waiting. In front of me was a pile of cocaine. My pills were on the kitchen counter. I had tried calling the house a dozen times, but Rocco had started to answer the phone. Apparently he’d turned against me too. I would fire him as soon as this was resolved.

I said to Dave, “Call Laurie on her cell phone. It’s the only way I can get through.”

Dave nodded wearily and started punching in Laurie’s number on the cordless phone. Thirty seconds later I had her on the phone, and she was crying. “Listen,” she said, snuffling back tears, “you know how much Dave and I love you, Jordan, but, please, I’m begging you, you gotta go to rehab. You gotta get help. You’re about to die. Don’t you see it? You’re a brilliant man and you’re destroying yourself. If you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for Channy and Carter. Please!”

I took a deep breath and rose from the couch and started walking toward the kitchen. Dave followed a few steps behind. “Does Nadine still love me?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Laurie, “she still loves you, but she won’t be with you anymore unless you go to rehab.”

I took another deep breath. “If she loves me she’ll come to the phone.”

“No,” said Laurie, “if she loves you she won’tcome to the phone. You two are in this thing together; you’re both sick with this disease. She might be even sicker than you for allowing it to go on so long. You need to go to rehab, Jordan, and she needs to get help too.”

I couldn’t believe it. Even Laurie had turned on me! I never would’ve thought it—not in a million years. Well, fuck her!And fuck the Duchess! And fuck every last soul on earth! Who gave a fucking shit anymore! I had already peaked, hadn’t I? I was thirty-four and had already lived ten lifetimes. What was the point now? Was there anywhere to go but down? What was better, to die a slow, painful death or to go down in a blaze of glory?

Just then I caught a glimpse of the vial of morphine. There were at least a hundred pills inside, fifteen milligrams each. They were small pills, half the size of a pea, and they were a terrific shade of purple. I’d taken ten today, which was enough to put most men in an irreversible coma; for me, it was nothing.

With great sadness in my voice, I said to Laurie, “Tell Nadine I’m sorry, and to kiss the kids good-bye.” The last thing I heard before I hung up the phone was Laurie screaming: “Jordan, no! Don’t hang—”