True to his word, Angelo promised them a table for three at eight o’clock on just a few hours notice. At six they hit the Virginia Inn for a couple of drinks in the cozy bar. By seven, they’d decided to go raid Perrin’s store for dinner attire.
Perrin was into a sixties mode. Her hair streaked, part flapper platinum blond, but with darker lines of oak that made her the very authentic sun-bleached gal. Two months seemed to be the longest she could retain a hair color.
She flaunted a generous tie-dye skirt, that showed every bit of difference from the classic, dyed-in-Kool-Aid versus professionally done with Procion dye on the fine-weave of quality cotton. Her peasant blouse was loose, airy, and kept slipping off one shoulder. The outfit invited you to imagine the slender, vibrant woman wi
