Sylvie knocked back another shot, her fifth in ten minutes, and decided that this time she was going to go for it.
She grimaced. Just like she’d decided after the first four shots. Each one had given her a burst of confidence. Each time she’d stood and started walking towards the man she wanted to speak to… and seeing his world-renowned face she’d become horribly aware of her own youth and inexperience, faltered, and returned to her bar stool.
Not this time! This time she was going to do it! If for no other reason than another shot would probably make her slur her speech to the point of unintelligibility.
She got off the stool and started to walk across the bar. It was quiet. Not empty, but far from busy. And it was far from the type of place she would have expected to see Sir La
