Emma Rawlings stood in the back of the elevator, a bead of sweat slowly running down the nape of her neck. She felt hot and flushed even though she stood right under a vent with cool air blowing down on her. Emma saw her reflection in the mirrored wall of the elevator. Her auburn brown hair was pulled back, neat, and the blue-green eyes that looked back at her were much calmer and belied the swirling emotions she felt in the pit of her stomach. In her right hand, she clutched the business card of the man she had met the night before.
Emma had originally gone to the bar to catch up with some old friends, and as was typical, her friends stayed for a few drinks and then one by one left talking of other commitments until she was sitting at the bar alone. As her last friend departed, it seemed to be a signal to the men around the bar – all nursing drinks in various states of drunkenness. Before the door closed behind her last friend, the first approached her, then the second, and third. Emma wasn’t sure why she hadn’t left yet. As a fourth man stumbled her way, she felt a firm hand on her shoulder as a man sat down beside her with a calm confidence that immediately made her fourth suitor stop in his tracks.