She was disappointed with herself. It was no one's fault. Not even hers. No, she wouldn't take this lying down. She sped past him and went straight to the Bar, as straight as she could manage. A martini would do. Shaken, not stirred. James Bond would be so proud.
"That man is harassing me! Can you please send some big guys to take care of the matter, please? I think he's a cop."
"Your boyfriend, you mean, ma'am?"
"Yes! My boyfriend! That rascal!", she said with clenched teeth, thumping the table.