toward the Hamptons, I was riding in the back, solo. Even though the air-conditioning was blasting I had the sun-roof opened so I could watch as the clear sky, lightly painted with thin cirrus clouds, went speeding by. The TV, muted, was on CNN. Wolf Blitzer, at his usual studio post, was sharing a split screen with legendary GE Chairman Jack Welch. My suit jacket was off and there were papers spilling out of my briefcase all over the seat around me. While I was speaking on my cell phone, my eyes couldn’t help getting stuck on the site of the wet bar. Bottles of premium booze staring me in the face, I slowly tore my corneas away, forcing them instead to settle on the Diet Coke in the cup holder to my left. “— and I’ve been in New York enough times to know that the Hamptons are about one thing, partying. Business, please!” Andreu Zhamovsky’s voice was blasting from my cell phone. He was busting my balls.
