The headache hadn"t been as bad as she had expected. The wine had been, though. Cheap wine, from Carol"s top cupboard. Probably used for cooking years ago and left there.
She"d made it through Monday, though. Her presentation was done, double and triple checked. Still a few missing parts, but she was hoping she could fudge those well enough to make it to the final round of branding candidates next week.
She shifted her weight, standing on Peter"s front porch. The sun was down, and fallen leaves rustled in the chilly shadows.
Her finger hovered over the doorbell. It was an old-fashioned one that rang an actual bell outside on the porch. She was worried it would trigger her headache again, but the hangover had finally subsided.
She"d wanted to call Peter to apologize. She was embarrassed
