Penelope dialed the number, fingers shaking at the thought of who might be on the other end of the phone. It rang once and she thought, oh no! I can’t. She hung up the phone. If I call from this phone who ever answers could have caller id, and will know who I am. I need to be slicker than that. She grabbed a jacket and went in search of a phone a bit more anonymous. She rounded the corner and spied Kelley’s Bar. She knew the bartender, Matt. Matt was just too hot to be behind the bar. She’d like to be his oversized cozy sweater…Hot as he was, he was quiet most of the time and made a great margarita and he would surely let her use the phone. She entered the bar, slow night, mostly regulars. She said her hello’s and planted herself on a barstool near the end of the bar, near the phone. After some small talk and some Jack Daniels on ice, she made her request to Matt and he handed her the phone. She dialed the number. It rang once. Then a second time. On the third ring a man answered.