Piper sat in a booth along the side wall of the bar, absently turning her glass around and around on the table as she half-watched a baseball game on one of the TV screens. Every time the door opened, her eyes flicked in that direction before drifting back to the TV again. She checked the display on her phone, no messages, so placed it face down on the table. She'd been waiting for forty minutes now.

She gestured to the waitress as she passed the table and ordered another glass of wine. It was delivered a couple of minutes later by a different waitress, with a shot of something amber and a smirk.

"I didn't…" Piper started.

"It's on me. You look like you need it, kid."

With a wink, the waitress moved away again and headed back towards the bar.

Piper looked at the shot, then at the woman who had resumed her position behind the counter. She smiled a little when the woman caught her eye, poured another shot and raised it in Piper's direction before knocking it back. She grimaced, then smiled at Piper and raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

Piper shook her head slightly, then grinned and lifted the shot glass from the table. She held the other woman's eye as she moved the glass to her lips, then tilted her head back and drank the amber liquid.

As soon as it hit her throat, Piper realised this wasn't such a great idea. The warmth of the liquid spread through her instantly, but the majority of the heat seemed to be centred on one particular spot at the back of her throat. She slammed the glass down and as soon as it hit the table she started coughing. She covered her mouth with her fist and thought she might be about to cough a lung up onto the table, she felt tears spill from her eyes and wiped at them with the heel of her hand as the coughing finally subsided.

Two napkins and a glass of water were placed on the table in front of her by a waitress and Piper just about managed to croak out a thank you.

"Boss says to tell you you're a lightweight," the waitress smiled.

Piper dabbed at her eyes with one of the napkins and glanced back over towards the bar, where the woman – the boss, apparently – was grinning madly whilst preparing a cocktail for another customer.

"What was that stuff?" Piper asked, taking a sip of water.

"Firewater, hon. Tequila, one hundred per cent blue agave, not one we usually serve."

"Please tell your boss thank you, but I think I'll stick with wine from now on," Piper smiled.

"Gotcha," the waitress replied, flashing her a quick smile as she moved away again, taking the empty shot glass with her.

Piper picked up her phone from the table and glanced at the display again. Still blank. Still no messages. She'd now been sitting here for almost fifty minutes. She'd give it a round hour, then she'd leave, she decided. Her eyes drifted back to the ball game on TV, but within seconds she found she was watching the woman moving confidently behind the bar instead.

She was tall, just a little taller than Piper, and had long slightly curled black hair that fell past her shoulders and ended with cerulean tips. Her features were angular, her make up perfect but understated, and she wore a pair of black framed glasses that wouldn't have looked out of place on a librarian. She moved around behind the bar with an air of confidence, mixing drinks and serving customers with a practised ease.

She glanced over at Piper, who looked away quickly, a little embarrassed that she'd been caught watching. She busied herself rummaging for absolutely nothing at all in her handbag, then drained her wine, steadfastly keeping her eyes away from the woman behind the bar. She caught the eye of a passing waitress and, deciding she'd waited long enough, asked for the bill.

It arrived in a long leather wallet a couple of minutes later. Piper reached for her purse, then flipped open the wallet. Inside, instead of a bill, she found a business card in the name of Alex Vause. It described her as Proprietor of Suave, the bar she was currently in, and the contact details of the bar itself. She picked up the card and turned it between her fingers, finding a message neatly printed on the reverse.

This is on the house, Lightweight.
Whoever stood you up needs to be
institutionalised. Clearly insane.
Call me.
A. x

Then a number, a mobile number, not the one pre-printed on the front face of the card.

Piper looked over to the bar, but found a different woman now mixing drinks. This one was loud, laughing with customers, wild haired and shorter than the other woman – Alex – who was now nowhere to be seen.

She re-read the message on the reverse of the card, then slipped it into her purse. She collected her phone and handbag and left the bar, allowing herself a small smile as she walked toward the door.

In her private office behind the bar, Alex sat back in her chair, fingers steepled and touching her chin as she studied the CCTV. She watched as Lightweight received her "bill", read the card and looked around, then slid it into her purse. She continued to watch as the blonde made her way to the exit and then smiled when she saw that the other woman couldn't quite hide a smile herself.

"Gotcha," she murmured.

Piper removed, read and replaced the business card no less than four times on her short journey home in the taxi. Every time she read it, she smiled a little bit more.

When she got home to her apartment, she kicked off her shoes, hung her coat and checked the messages on her answering machine. There were three messages.

First: Piper? Piper it's me. Are you there? Pick up. Pick up pick up pick up! Godammit, Piper, please don't tell me you've left already…

That was Polly. Best friend since college, former roommate, total flake.

Second: Piper. God. Where the fuck are you? You seriously can't have left already. I'm not gonna make it tonight. I've had the most hideous day at work, now they need me to stay over and I can't get out of it. I know, I know… I'm sorry okay? I'll make it up to you. I promise.

Piper sighed. So this is why she'd waited an hour in the bar. Alone. Looking like she'd been stood up.

Third: Did I tell you my day was hideous? So fucking hideous. I can't even tell you. Then the intern – you know, the one with the teeth and godawful taste in sweaters – knocked my fucking phone off the desk and then STOOD ON IT. Like he was just making sure it was well and truly broken. Dipshit. So, yeah, hideous. Also why I'm calling you at home and not on your cell – this is the only number I can remember and everything else is in my cell. Or former cell. Totes broken. Totes gonna kill him. So sorry babe. I hope to fuck you're not sitting in the bar on your own waiting for me. Call me when you get this!

Piper couldn't help smiling at this one. The intern with the godawful taste in sweaters was straight out of college, seriously lacking in socials skills, and harbouring a crush on her best friend that everyone in the world could see. Killing Polly's phone was not the best way to ingratiate himself with her and Piper almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost.

She moved into the kitchen and heated up last night's leftover pasta, then retreated to the loungeroom again where she flicked on the TV and ate dinner whilst watching the end of the ballgame. The same game that had been on in the bar. Suave. The bar with the firewater tequila and the hot proprietor.

Wait, hot?

Piper shook her head as if to dislodge this thought and grabbed her phone. Distraction was needed and Polly was sure to provide it. She called her friend at work and it was answered before it had even rang out once.

"Harper, yes?"

"Oh hi," Piper started, using an angelic voice. "Is that Polly Harper, maker of dinner plans, total flake and beater of besotted interns?"

"Piper! Where the fuck have you been? I called you like two hours ago!"

"Where do you think I've been, Pol? I've been sitting in Suave, on my own, for a full hour waiting for you. Cradling two glasses of wine and looking for all the world like I've been stood up. Thanks for that!"

"Ohmygod. I'm so sorry. I tried to call you! I called three times."

"I noticed." A deliberate pause. "After I got home."

"I couldn't remember your cell number! I probably wouldn't have even remembered your home number if it wasn't so similar to mine. Although, honestly, I'll admit I called myself at home twice before I got yours right."

"You didn't think of maybe calling the bar?"

There was a silence on the line. Clearly this option hadn't occurred to Polly until this very moment. When Piper suggested it.

"Fuck it." Polly muttered. "I'm sorry."

Piper smiled. They'd been friends for too long for things like this to be an unusual occurrence and Piper had long ago realised there was no point being angry with Polly. Shit like this happened to her. It happened all the time. She was just one of those people to whom misfortune seemed attracted.

"How's the phone?"

"Dead."

"How's the intern?"

"Dying. Slowly."

Piper laughed. "Go easy on him. He just gets flustered whenever you're near because he's so in looooove with you."

"Go easy on him? He broke my cell! He coulda killed my puppy and I'd be less forgiving."

"You don't have a puppy!"

"I don't have a cell now, either."

"Point."

"I thought so."

"Are you working tomorrow?"

"At this rate, I'm gonna be working all through tonight, all of tomorrow and all of tomorrow night too. Deadlines. I hate 'em."

"Rain check?"

"Rain check. I really am sorry, Pipe. I'll make it up to you."

"You'd better. Leaving me alone in a bar like a sad lonely spinster."

"Spinster? Who the fuck even uses that word any more? Who are you, Jane Austen?"

Piper grinned. "Like you ever read any Jane Austen."

"Shut up. I know who she is. Anyway, I'll bet you weren't alone for long. Tell me, just how many times did you get hit on while you waited for me?"

"None." Piper replied immediately, but even as she did she felt colour rising up her cheeks.

"I call bullshit."

"You can call whatever you want, just not my cell phone when I need you to, apparently."

Polly laughed. "I gotta go, babe. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Yeah. So you say."

"Shut up!"

"See ya, Pol. Don't work the intern too hard."

"I'll work him to death and he'll enjoy it, believe me. See ya."

Piper smiled as she ended the call. Her relationship with Polly was easy, uncomplicated and never, ever dull. They'd met in their first year at Smith, randomly assigned a dormitory room together, and had been inseparable ever since.

They'd supported each other through college, through relationship crises, through family funerals, through catastrophic one-night-stands, through drunken parties and failed exams and family Christmases and terrible boyfriends (and even a terrible girlfriend on one occasion for Piper), through job interviews and doctors appointments and, well, life. Piper was a firm believer in everything happening for a reason and her assignment to a dorm room with Polly Harper on that first day at Smith had certainly proven to be beneficial time and time again.

She washed her plate from dinner, ran herself a bath, poured herself a glass of wine and took both the wine and her book into the bathroom where she remained, soaking and reading and unwinding from the stresses of the day until the water started to go cold and the skin on her toes turned soft and white and wrinkled.

Piper brushed her teeth then changed into her pyjamas. She plugged in her phone to charge overnight and left it on the drawers next to her bed, got herself a glass of water, went through her usual routine of turning things off and locking up, then slid into bed. She lay on her right side, covers pulled up to her chin, just her right hand peeking out and holding her book. She lay reading by the light of her bedside lamp, a trashy romance novel she'd picked up in a second-hand bookstore a week ago on a whim. She wasn't enjoying the story, but was too stubborn to quit it now she'd started, so was trying to read it as fast as she could just so it could be over with.

"...she watched him approach in the darkness, silhouetted by the silverly moon that hung low in the sky. She'd recognise him anywhere, his masculine physique, his air of confidence, the slight swagger in his gait. He was achingly handsome, suave, debonair, slightly greying at the temples and..."

Wait a second. Suave?

She re-read the same few sentences again, then got it. Like a penny dropping. A slow grin spread across her face and she kicked off the covers, hurrying through into the loungeroom again where she grabbed her handbag, found her purse and pulled out the business card.

She read it in the half-light, then carried it through into the bedroom where, perched on the edge of her bed, she read it again and smiled.

Suave.

She read the message on the back of the card, slipped back under the covers and reached for her phone. Biting her lip, she composed a text message.

Suave. An anagram of your own name.
Isn't that a little pretentious?

She hesitated, considering whether or not to sign the message, then decided against it and hit 'send'.

She placed the phone back on the bedside table, turned off the lamp, lay down again and the phone vibrated. She reached for it in the dark and read the message on her screen.

Choking on a $300 shot of tequila.
Isn't that a little ungrateful?

Piper damn near choked again when she saw the price of the tequila. She quickly replied.

I didn't know it was $300!

The response came immediately.

I didn't know you were a lightweight, Lightweight.

Piper smiled and was considering her reply when her phone lit up again.

Do you have a name, Lightweight, or must I continue to call you Lightweight when I take you to dinner tomorrow?

Piper raised an eyebrow when she read the message, but couldn't suppress a smile.

Presumptuous.

The screen lit up again almost immediately.

Unusual. I like it.
Hello Presumptuous, I'm Alex.
Dinner?

Piper laughed out loud when she read the message and replied a few seconds later.

My name is Piper. (No really, it is.)
Hello, Alex. Thank you for the drinks tonight.

A couple of minutes passed until the next reply came. Piper spent those two minutes reading and re-reading their exchanges so far.

You're welcome. I gotta run, Piper – work.
Come by the bar tomorrow. 8pm.
I guarantee you won't be stood up. x

Piper didn't reply to this message until the following morning, but she fell asleep that night holding her phone and with a smile on her face.