Beautiful long stemmed red roses filled the hotel suit, the perfect gift, really. Everything was perfect. There might be a luckier man somewhere on the planet, Nathaniel Harry thought as he wrapped his arms around Lizzy, his new bride. Somewhere in Yemen, maybe-some Allah praising farmer with a second goat. But certainly not all of San Francisco. The couple looked out of the living room of the Grand Hyatt’s Mandarin suit. They could see the lights of Berkeley off in the distance, Alcatraz, the graceful outline of the lit-up Golden Gate Bridge. It’s incredible.” Melanie beamed.” I wouldn’t change a single thing, about today.`` Me either,” he whispered.” Well, maybe I wouldn’t have invited my parents,” they both laughed. Only moments before they bid farewell to the last of the three hundred guests in the hotel’s ballroom. The wedding was finally over. The toasts, the dancing, the schmoozing, the photographed kisses over the cake. Now it’s time for the two of them. They were

How I got from Dr.Kelvin office,out in the Noe valley,all the way to the Hyatt in union square, I don’t remember. I kept hearing the doctor’s sounding over and over in my head. In sever cases, Negli can be fatal.All I know is that barely frothy minutes after Godwin’s call, my ten years old Bronco screeched to a halt in front of hotel’s atrium entrance The street was ablaze with police activities.Jesus what the hell happen? The entire block between sutter and union square had been condone off by a barricade of blue and white. In the hotel entrance,a cluster of uniformeds crowd of the onlookers away. I badged my way into the lobby. Two uniformed cops whom I recognized were standing in front: Andy a potbellied cop in the last year of his hitch and his younger part, Vasquez. I asked Murray to bring me up speed. “ what I been told is that there’s two VIP murdered on the thirtieth floor. All the brainpower ‘up there now,” who is presiding?” I asked, feeling my energies returning

As the elevator came to a stop, Alice held her breath. her heart was pumping like a turbine. she was on 30. she was in. she was really doing this, the door had opened to a remote corner of the floor, she thanked God there wasn't a cop waiting in front of them. She heard a buzz of activity coming from the other end of the hall. All she had to do was to follow the noise. As she hurried down the hallway, the voices grew louder. two men in yellow jacket bearing "CSU" walked past her. At the end of the hall, a group of cops and investigators stood in front of an open double doorway marked "Mandarin Suite she wasn't only inside; she was right in the fucking middle of it.Alice made her way toward the double doors. The cops weren't even looking in her direction; they were letting police staff who had come from the main elevators. she had made it all the way. The Mandrin Suite. she could see inside.it was huge, opulent, with lavish decor, roses were everywhere. then her heart almost stopped

Tonight my eyes were different, though. Scared. Everything seemed different. Surf the waves. I heard a voice inside me say. Stand tall. You always stand tall. As much as I tried to press it back, the question formed: why me? I threw on a pair of sweats, tied up my hair in a short ponytail, and went into the kitchen to boil water for pasta and heat up a sauce I had put in the fridge a couple of night before. While it sounds simmered, I put a CD, Sarah MacLachlan, and sat at the kitchen counter with a glass of day-old Bianco red. I petted Snoopy as the music played.Ever since my divorce had become final two years ago, I had lived alone, I hate living alone. I loved people, friends, I used to love my husband, Jousha more than life itself-until he left me saying “Moo, I can’t explain it. I love you, but I have to leave. I need to find someone else. There’s nothing else to say.” I guess he was being truthful, but it was the dumbest, saddest thing I’d ever heard. Broke my heart into a m

At the offices of the San Francisco chronicle, Alice Jackson's frantic brain was just barely staying ahead of her fingers. the afternoon deadline was barely an hour away. from the bellhop at the Hyatt, she had been able to obtain the names of the two guests who had attended the Harry's wedding and who were still at the hotel. After running down there again last night, she had been able to put together a heart-wrenching, tragic picture- complete with vows, toasts, and a romantic last dance- of the bride and groom's final moments. All the other reporter were still piecing together the sparse detail release d by the police. she was ahead so far. she was winning, and it felt great. she was also certain this was the best writing she'd done since arriving at the chronicle, and maybe since she'd been an undergraduate at Michigan. At the paper, Alice's coup at Hyatt had turned her into an instant celebrity. people she scarcely knew were suddenly stopping and congratulating her. Even the p