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This was a terrible plan.
Liv applied cherry red lipstick in her rearview mirror with the precision of experience, her brand of war paint to give her confidence today. By some miracle, a hangover hadn’t chased her into Tuesday, after the amount of whisky they swilled last night. She had needed all the liquid courage possible following her miserable date with Kyle-the-douche and the way the thought of today sent her into freak-out mode.
Still, she smoothed the surface of her navy blue cigarette pants and took a deep inhale. Her Converse might not be as stylish as a pair of pumps, but if she needed to move fast, she’d be able to bolt at a moment’s notice. She might feel safe sitting behind the wheel of her Subaru, but the idea of walking down Bardstown towards this café made her heart step in double time.
She tugged her black leather jacket from the back seat, more a security blanket than any sort of needed warmth since the temperature would climb with the hours. Liv refused to go anywhere without it even though the jacket had accumulated more patches and holes than was worth keeping. Ten years later, and she had never been able to let him go—not completely. He and this jacket remained in her memories as a reminder of a better time, before college had happened and she turned into this jaded mess.
Liv got out of the car.