My head is pounding. I crack one eye open and regret it immediately as the room begins to spin. Blinding white light streams through the blinds in my bedroom. Is this my bedroom? I take stock of my surroundings. It feels like my bed. Smells like my sheets. How the fuck did I get home last night?

This is why I don't drink liquor. I can't be losing entire chunks of my day. I close my eyes again and try to retrace the afternoon. We reached a plea deal and an arrangement with the ...