Ginny Levitt leaned back in the dark, plush corner booth of the bar and took a long drink from the highball glass in her left hand. The thick bourbon and coke slid down her throat in an effortless gulp. Grateful for the liquid courage and the numbing sensation already transpiring in her legs, she took another drink.

The tall, lean and attractive young woman placed the heavy glass back onto the wooden table before her and ran her fingers through her mane of golden brown hair. She sighed, fished around in her evening bag and pulled out a cigarette; lighting it and gracefully exhaling a train of white smoke.

Alone for the few minutes she had already been in the upscale watering hole, Ginny was waiting.

Gently bouncing her foot, re-crossing her long, smooth legs, fiddling with the maroon cocktail napkin that held her precious liquor, she was becoming nervous. Even though she knew she shouldn’t, Ginny was second-guessing herself; something the headstrong, intelligent woman rarely did.