fit, sans mask
Today had been very stressful. He'd accidentally double-booked appointments, so was quite literally trying to juggle a client over the phone and over Zoom, mixed in with so many apologies. It was a bad look, but he definitely preferred making sure both clients got in than having to reschedule someone last minute. They seemed to take it well enough. He bore the brunt of the stress anyway and no one missed out.
So the reward was an evening at the bar, a very nice bar, actually, that he hadn't visited yet. He'd been drawn in by their fancy drink menu, and so was settled at the bar now, on a comfortable stool, shooting the shit with the bartender while sipping at a sparkly ruby red drink in a martini glass. Until the bartender had to go take care of someone else and Oleander, not yet tipsy, but always sociable, looked over at the person who had left a seat between them.
"This drink, delicious."