Leanna (not her real name) watched the girl sitting at the bar, an uncertain look on her face. She said she’d be back, right?
“Sorry honey,” Leanna murmured, unheard, as she left the bar and headed for the office, itching to type up the story. While most people knew of Crispin Grace, few were aware of the proclivities the girl had revealed in all their tacky detail.
“You’re the best Leanna,” her editor said as she read the piece.
Leanna made no pretence at false modesty. “Yeah.”
The best – and also kinda lonely.