He’d stopped by his place first so he could change into a shirt and blazer before heading uptown. The Mark Bar wasn’t the type of place you trudged into in a parka and gloves, not even when the weather called for it. Not for the kind of role he’d be playing, anyway. He had no problem spotting Tali as soon as he entered the bar. She was exactly where she’d texted she’d be; alone, nursing the same cocktail she always ordered, but rarely finished: Hendricks martini straight up with a twist of lemon. She was wearing a classic black cocktail dress that could be found in almost any dress shop or department store in the world, but she somehow managed to make it look couture. She had dark hair, light olive skin and high cheekbones and green eyes one might not expect an Israeli girl to have. She was more striking than beautiful, but exotic enough to draw quick glances—both desirous and envious—from most of the men and women in the place. Yet, despite the empty stool next to her, no one sat near her.
What do You think about Sympathy For The Devil (2015)?
