I watch as Brandon takes my advice, roving across the patio and passing through beach bunnies without giving them a second look. He must be out of sorts today because the Brandon I know would be letting his perverse eyes run all over their half-naked bodies with complete abandon.
Putting aside the weirdness of Brandon, I take a moment to lounge back in the chair I'm currently seated in, taking in the view of the hula girls as they wrap up their act. If I didn't know any better, I would think this was just a normal party on a normal day at Windsor. Normal is a relative term in this situation as this party is clearly setting them back thousands. But no one seems overly drunk or skittish. No one seems afraid. They should be.
