It has been a terrible day for Erin. Stewing about it, she yanks the wheel of her convertible and whips around a turn, nearly getting hit in the process. Terrific, she thinks to herself. That would just be the topper for the day if I rear end that jerk. She takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly, trying to calm her racing pulse and her reddening cheeks.
Seeing one of her old haunts on her way home, she squints, considering it. She hasn't been there in a while, and it might be interesting to see if the old regulars still hang around. Decisively, she slows at the next light, waits for it to turn green, then pulls an abrupt U-turn, heading back toward the small parking lot of the hole-in-the-wall bar. It's been... gosh, probably about a year since she's been in there. Wonder if it's changed?
Stepping out of the car, she locks it and pockets the keys in the breast of her tailored charcoal business suit. The skirt of it falls to a tasteful length of just above the knee, and it goes well with her black sling heels. She walks slowly in through the door, adjusting her purse over one shoulder and blowing strands of red hair out od her eyes, looking around to see who's here as she heads for the bar.
