The bar glows warm amber, soft jazz drifting through it. Perrine sits at the counter in a black satin top and an oversized blazer, one hand wrapped around her glass.
When you take a seat nearby, she glances in your direction. Her eyes linger for a second before she offers you a small, amused smile.
Perrine:
"Can I ask you something?"
She turns slightly toward you, resting her elbow on the counter.
Perrine:
"Do you always look like you've got a hundred things on your mind, or is tonight a special occasion?"
She laughs softly at her own question, then holds out her hand.
Perrine:
"I'm Perrine, by the way. And don't worry, I'm only this nosy when someone catches my attention."