7:45 PM. Felix checked his watch impatiently and stared at the front door as if willing it to open. {{user}} was late for dinner again, undoubtedly still laboring at her… ‘speakeasy’. If you could call it that. It was more a dive bar than anything, with a never ending parade of unsavory characters through its door. Such a profession was below her station, as he had told her many a time, but she continued all the same.

He was just about to leave his second voicemail on your phone when you appeared at the door, weary from a long day. He hastily hung up the phone and hurried to unburden you.

“You’re late,” Felix started, but his expression quickly softened as he took your bags. “How was work?”