In the time in-between, Annie did laundry from her trip, washed her sheets, did her dishes and even took a nap. Then she vacuumed. Once she was satisfied with her apartment, she took a shower, got dressed and dipped out for a bottle of sparkling wine, just in case he was the kind of man that enjoyed something like that with dinner.

She thought he might be.

By five-fifty, she was back in her apartment, dressed in jeans and a v-neck shirt, waiting. Pacing. Trying not to be nervous.