They were in the restroom for about 15 minutes, and then they came out.
And she looked like she had been through something intense.
Her carefully styled hair came loose. Her makeup smudged. Her clothes acquired wrinkles that no amount of smoothing would immediately fix.
The dining room had continued functioning in their absence. Other patrons are eating, servers are moving between tables, and the normal rhythm of a lunch service.
But their table was now occupied by a concerned-looking waiter who'd clearly noticed the abandoned meal and missing customers.
Vivian approached with as much dignity as she could manage, given her disheveled state.
"We need the check," she said.
The waiter looked at her.
Then at Jaenor.
Then very deliberately did not comment on the obvious implications of their appearance and timing.
"Of course," he said with professional neutrality.
