As she stood waiting at the bar, Amy was begining to worry that he wasn't coming after all. She was fighting the urge to glance back at the door every time she heard it open.
It felt as though they were all looking at her, everyone in the bar, surely everyone here must know she had been stood up. A man she didn't know was watching her from the other end of the room, making her feel even more uneasy. Maybe it would be better to leave.
She concentrated on the remains of her drink, refusing to meet the stranger's eye, swirling the ice in the glass.
"Amy?"
The familiar voice behind her made her jump. Finally he'd arrived. She turned on the spot, with a smile, and looked him over in appreciation. Chris, a man she'd met just the night before, giving out her phone number but never really expecting a call. He'd surprised her by telephoning that morning, begging to be allowed to meet for a drink. Amy felt slightly ashamed at being s...
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