Pushing open the door to the club, Penny was hit by a wall : of heat, noise and too many bodies in an enclosed space.
Taking a deep breath, she clutched her present tighter and stepped forward to let the door swing close behind her ; and onto a tall man with shoulder length dark hair and a dragonhide coat. "Sorry, 'luv," he said in a voice that smacked of being south of the river "Mind where you're going, don't wanna end up with a face like a flatiron."
Somewhere in this heaving heap of bodies was her best friend, and with that mane of hair she should be easily enough to spot but she wasnt. Typical Meghan.
As she made her way through towards the centre of the room, her attention was caught by the presence of the bar and she headed towards it like a beacon.
Five minutes later and clutching a glass of very nice red wine in her hand, Penny turned towards the crowd once more and strode into the foray ; determined to find someone she knew.
Even if it meant walking up to the first person she saw and pretending she knew them. It was a party ; she could mingle. She was a Master of Mingling.
All she needed to do was find a mass of crazy red hair.