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Patience made a quick stop in the restroom to make sure she hadn’t spilled anything on her black T-shirt. She released her long brown hair from its ponytail, thought briefly that she should have gotten highlights, and worn makeup and hey, maybe been something more exciting than ordinary, then shrugged. She was who she was, and nothing short of serious plastic surgery and/or a makeover was going to change her now.

She applied lip gloss and brushed the front of her “Chez Julia” T-shirt one last time. Two minutes later she had her purse and was walking out onto the sidewalk.

Justice was still there. All six-two of him. He wore a dark suit, blinding white shirt and a smoky-gray tie.

“You weren’t this stylish a dresser fifteen years ago,” she said.

“Occupational hazard.”

“Which begs the question, what occupation? But that can wait.” She looked at him, trying to reconcile the man with the teenager she’d known and loved. Well, maybe not loved, but liked a lot. He’d been her first crush. She’d wanted to tell him, to have him for her boyfriend and then he’d been gone. “What happened?”