Who- Becca Hobbs & Ben Hobbs. Where- One of the lovely drinking and dining establishments on the island. Status- In Progress
Rebecca Hobbs was a married woman.
She was also pushing her husband for a divorce, thus the showing up upon the island.. because clearly sending papers wasn't going to do it.
Clearly, asking nicely, wasn't going to do it.
She loved her husband, she loved him dearly.. But he'd cheated, he'd lied, and he'd drank himself until the marriage felt more like an imprisonment than a home, and she was tired, worn, and just recently, pushed, shoved.. and with a brand new sprained ankle that still stung when pressure was applied, though it didn't stop her from wearing a favored pair of low, black, heels that wrapped carefully over her ankle and lower calf as she made her way out.
The small club was known for soft jazz,.. At least the man in the lobby of the Hotel she was staying at had informed her, and she liked the idea of enjoying the music, while enjoying a drink.. The night was young, the air was still warm with a crisp lick from the waves surrounding the island, and she was trying to take her mind off of things.. What more could she do? It was a waiting game.
With a seat near the bar she placed a single order for a whiskey and coke on ice, sitting with a thick glass tumbler as her shadowed eyes watched the stage, waiting the next performance and hoping for a singer.