Brandi pulled in to the parking lot behind the club about twenty minutes after five and parked her little Mazda. Although the sporty little red Miata was not new, the prior owner had given the car good care and Brandi loved both the look and economy. It was her kind of car and she enjoyed zipping around in it.
Moments later, she saw Darren and Darryl striding down the sidewalk. They spotted her right away and waved eagerly. She took her model’s case and garment bag out of the car and went to meet them. They both wore dark slacks worn shiny with washing and ironing and white shirts, clothes that had probably once been their Sunday-go-to-meeting outfits. The pants were a bit short, as were the sleeves of the shirts, but the garments were clean and even looked freshly ironed. Both had their
