Gray clapped a hand to his chest with a laugh. "What a fucking relief. Last time I tried to use the microwave, it blew up. Small fire and everything. My dad was pissed. off."

Having an alcoholic partier for a father made things easy. Spare glasses were in the mini-bar just to his right, and he tossed a pack of some fancy gourmet cigarette one of his dad's flings had left behind in the general direction of Frankie's lap.

"So," He sat next to her, pouring excessive servings of rum for the both of them. His tone was careful as he spoke, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"What happened?"