An empty martini glass sat atop a cocktail napkin upon which someone had drawn two rectangles and a squiggly line in ballpoint pen. "This will probably be worth a small fortune someday," he chuckled to himself. He pocketed the napkin and continued clearing the remnants of last night's party from the aluminum
-framed coffee table
on the patio. It was no worse for wear, but that was more than he could say for the swimming pool?and his cabana boy. He thought he might drop by the hospital later and give him the napkin as a get-well-soon present.