[Quiet Man Cometh]

"Cassindra" sat at the bar and drummed her fingers on the bartop in a deliberately slow manner. She observed the interplay going on at the piano, heard the squabbling behind the doors oh what she supposed might be a kitchen of sorts, and watched demurely as the bartenders attended to patrons. She drummed her fingers and wrinkled her nose. Wealthy or not, her associate for the evening had terrible taste in cologne.