Once parked, she flipped up the hood of her jacket, and hurrying through the rain, she caught sight of her friends through the window. Tamara’s red curls burned under Java Man’s lights. Evangeline’s blond paleness was even more ashen; she looked washed out to the point of illness. And Renee’s face was pinched, her dark hair untidy, as if she’d been running her hands through her brunette strands over and over again.“Sorry I’m late,” Becca greeted them all, shaking excess water onto a mat by the door. “I was all set, wasting time actually, then suddenly I’m behind.”“We ordered you a decaf latte. That all right?” Renee asked, indicating a steaming, foaming cup.“Works for me.”“Coffee first, then wine,” Tamara said.Becca slid into the empty seat next to Renee, which left her across from Evangeline and catty-corner from Tamara. Everyone was more sober now, more careful than they had been at Blue Note, as if a current of tension was making them cautious. And Renee looked as if she’d dropped five pounds in less than a week.“So, what’s up?”
