Cesare was, as always, on time. He'd learned, at a young age, that being late never served him well. Being early could have its advantages but the best thing to be was on time. So there he was, at 19:59 exactly, walking into The Broadway Bar.
He'd changed out of his work clothes in the car from the airport and was now wearing a black suit jacket over a white t-shirt and dark blue denim jeans, fitted to his muscular legs. His work clothes were currently on their way to his hotel room, along with his father's car and chauffeur, leaving him free to do as he pleased for the night.
Cesare paused a little way from the entrance of the bar, scanning the people in the room for someone fitting Musetta's image. It was needless to say that he certainly didn't expect her to be ugly; however, he thought she probably was the brunette sitting at the end of the bar, her slender back towards him with just the hint of her profile alerting him to the fact that she was the woman he was looking for.
A small smirk gracing his lips, Cesare crossed to where she was sitting and slipped onto the bar stall beside her, leaning across slightly to place an order for a whiskey and coke and another of whatever Musetta was drinking before turning his head towards the woman at his side.
"Musetta, I presume," he said, the questioning tone in his voice asking for confirmation. He had been right, he noticed - she'd been lying when she'd said she was ugly. She was far from it and, had Charlotte been the clingy type of girlfriend, she would definitely have had something to worry about.