Henrik Fenger didn't exactly know what he had expected, but not this. He watched her from afar, in the mirror behind the bartender, as she walked out from the restaurant and towards him in the bar. Her searching eyes scanning the area to find him gave her away. Behind her followed a younger guy, very tall and who looked more like a punker than a photographer. "Mr. Fenger?" Henrik grinned and turned on his bar stool. "Rebekka Franck I assume?" He reached out his hand and she took it. Nice firm handshake. He liked that in a woman. Probably a feisty little one. "This is my photographer Sune Johansen," she said introducing the punk-guy behind her. "Hi," he said and reached out his hand. "Hello," Henrik said and shook his hand slightly, reluctantly wondering what kind of germs and following diseases this guy was going to give him. Henrik stared at the photographer's ring in the eyebrow. He wrinkled his nose. He never understood why people wanted rings all over the place that could get infected.
What do You think about Nine, Ten ... Never Sleep Again?
