She's on her way.

A minute or so later, Anna is walking briskly out of the hotel, smiling at the doorman as she passes. By now the sun has set, a crisp chill in the air as the night begins. Somewhere up above the stars are twinkling away, hidden behind the lights of the city and a few pink scraps of cloud. She spots her ride idling just down the street, makes a beeline for it down the bustling sidewalk, the clicking of her heels just audible over the sounds of the crowd. The door swings open and she hops in jauntily – no sooner has it shut than they’re pulling away.

The traffic isn’t awful, but it isn’t great either – there’s a lot of stop-go-stop. Anna checks the time on her phone, cutting things a little close but so long as there isn’t actual gridlock up ahead she ought to be fine. And anyway, being fashionably late never hurt anyone.

A light turns red, and as they slow to halt the driver shakes his head and smiles ruefully. ‘Been like this all day – roadworks in a bunch of places, an accident earlier, the usual story.’ It turns green and they’re off again, around a corner and stuck behind a van that looks older than Anna. ‘Hell, you might get there faster on foot.’

‘In these shoes? I doubt it.’

‘Aren’t you supposed to wear sneakers on the way and change when you get there? That’s what the girls I know do, anyway.’

‘Yeah, but I kept accidentally leaving them behind at the end of the night.’ Anna is often pretty distracted towards the end of a party, or rather very focused on something else.

The slow, if steady, progress gives him ample opportunity to glance over at her when he thinks she isn’t looking – she pretends to look for something in her purse so he can take a good look, tries to keep a straight face. Just when he’s checking out her cleavage she pipes up ‘Maybe you should keep your eyes on the road, huh?’

He swallows and snaps his attention back to the car in front, which is still going nowhere slowly, stammers an apology. Anna just laughs.

‘I’m kidding, I’m kidding.’ He relaxes somewhat. ‘No, you can look all you like. I am very cute, after all.’

‘Modest, too!’

‘I know, it’s a curse.’ At this point the traffic starts to free up again and he really does have to pay attention to the road – Anna however is perfectly free to return the favour and look him over. He’s pretty cute himself, a white guy about her age, close-cropped brown hair framing a handsome face with a five o’clock shadow.

She lowers her gaze, and what she sees twitches her smile to a smirk – though of course it could just be the way he’s sitting, or a shadow on his crotch, or the way his jeans happen to settle. But it could also be exactly what it looks like...