Angie stared at the remnants of her rum and coke, slowly circling the straw around the glass. Trying not to appear too eager, she “casually” glanced towards the door of the smoky dive to see if he had arrived. Even though they had never met, she somehow knew she’d recognize him instantly. Downing the contents of her glass, she eyed the bartender.

“Rum and coke?” he asked.

Angie nodded and smiled. She found herself mindlessly staring as he poured her drink, heavy on the rum. He was older, with graying hair, cut close to his head, and had the build of a runner.

“Angie?” A voice from behind startled her and she jumped, quickly turning to see who it was.

“Mark.” She smiled, and gestured toward the empty stool next to her.