ASTRID
My client is running late. It irks me as I have a penchant for punctuality. Unable to sit still, I pace the floor, tuning out the chatters from the other patrons. It's the third gig I'm taking from my part-time job at the editing firm in Brookland.
She had been gracious enough to make reservations in the VIP lounge, keeping us separated from the loud music and laughter. It's Thursday, the twentieth day of the month, and a few days before the election. It's a slow day, too, and I can't wait for it to end.
I run smooth hands across my neck while peering at the entrance door.
"Nervous about something?"
I come to a standstill and shift my attention towards the source of the voice.
"No, I'm just trying to make the time go faster." I return, flashing the attractive man a smile. "I
