Standing tall and mighty in a sky of midnight blue velvet, fiery torches gleam like sorcerer’s flames. The interior of Oliver’s Pub gives chase to a marble staircase with an elaborately turned balustrade and high end sculptures behind beveled glass enclosures. Rushing down the corridor to meet Rachel, Sharon fights the urge to kick off her high heels and walk barefoot down the plush, red carpeting.
The beckoning wail of sax drifts out of the piano bar, the bluesy sound of jazz bristling beneath her skin. After spending the better part of the afternoon at a writers conference, unwinding over a chilled chardonnay sounds like utter bliss. Seduced by the sound of sax, she saunters up the three steps leading to the mezzanine and orders up.
As Rachel struts into the pub, She by Elvis Costello softly plays on the piano. Wildly winking, Oliver stands behind the bar, pumping his biceps.
What can I get you, love?
Rachel: Well, hello again, Oliver! You get better looking every time I see you…I’ll have a glass of your best Chenin Blanc, if you don’t mind. Thank you.
Sharon: Hello, Rachel, how are you on this lovely amber day?
Rachel: Absolutely fine, thanks, Sharon. Although I’m sure “fine” is going to up to “great” once I have that glass of wine in my hand, lol!
The glasses clink. Cheers, my friend!
Sharon: While we wait for Oliver to bring out appetizers and cocktails, tell us about the setting of your book. I understand it’s about a pub.