Perhaps Tuesday night was not an obvious night to visit a bar, but for Eva, it made sense. Her schedule was clear for the next day, and quieter nights were more relaxing for her than the nights where the bar would be full of noise and people.
Dressed in almost severe unrelieved black, with her hair pulled back and up, make-up strong and dramatic and four inch heels on her shoes, she settled on a bar stool, crossed her legs, and considered the list of drinks. "Do you have virgin cocktails?" she enquired of the bar tender, voice low and musical, pitched just loud enough to be heard over the background music.
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