The night is still young. Youthful, well-groomed people are hopping from one bar to another in Georgetown, the most privileged and elite area of Washington, D.C. Josh Levinson watches the drunken crowd on the dance floor from under a tree across the street. A busty blonde in red is grinding a man she met just fifteen minutes ago. His hands wander on her body like they own the place until he’s distracted by the tone of his Blackberry. He excuses himself from the curvy figure glued to him to walk out from the bar to answer the call. His rehearsed lines confirm Josh’s every presumption.
“Hey, babe, how are you?” says the man in his tailored suit. “The wedding’s so boring and the music sucks . . . Of course I wish I were home with you and the kids . . . The food’s okay, though . . . Look, some dudes from high school wanna talk to me. Gotta go. Call you back in a bit. Love you.”
The cheating husband hangs up and turns around. Josh stands right behind him.
“Man, what’s the matter with you? You scared the shit out of me,” the man says.
“You should be scared,” Josh says coldly.
Those are the last words ever spoken to the man.
At the bar, the blonde waits impatiently for her potential hook-up to return from his business calls and wonders what she did to drive him away. He did tell her she had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.