She pushed her way through as quickly as she could, mouth set firmly in a tight frown and eyes fixed down the street on her destination. Come on, come...on... she thought, weaving past a woman walking a dog very slowly and squeezing through a group posing for a picture. As Amanda came to a reluctant halt at a crosswalk, she once again self-consciously tugged her jacket over her chest. The clock at the bank on the corner read 12:06.Shops and food carts rolled past in a familiar blur, but not fast. No she’s not on this trip with me. No I haven’t talked to her yet today. No I don’t love her. Yes I love someone else. Yes, that someone else is married, too.That last one seemed to amuse her.“If I was going to cheat with someone else, I’d at least make sure they was available,” she says with a laugh, then asks me if I smoke. I don’t. She fidgets and looks at the liquor bottles, trying to figure out what I’m looking at.“So, what’s in it for you?” Her eyes drift across the bottles. She tries to. More

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