[ A born and bred New Yorker, she knows the quickest way to get just about anywhere at any given time of day. On this occasion, it's a short train ride bookended by a cool walk. The bag on her shoulder serves as an overlarge cupholder, since her jacket won't hold her flask. Jess is at Sal's in roughly twenty minutes and grabs the corner booth between the window and back wall, the ideal spot for people watching.
A couple of guys with Daimon's either bleak flair or glowering posture walk past. He's the only one to pull off the combo, recognizable as soon as he's approaching the door. Jess waves him over. She has a mug of coffee in front of her already, generously spiked with the whiskey she brought from home. ]
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A couple of guys with Daimon's either bleak flair or glowering posture walk past. He's the only one to pull off the combo, recognizable as soon as he's approaching the door. Jess waves him over. She has a mug of coffee in front of her already, generously spiked with the whiskey she brought from home. ]