Drunk Roxie was worlds more sociable than bitter, biting, sarcastic Roxie who lorded over the reception desk at the gym where Matt worked. He almost didn’t recognize the woman hanging off his arm, giggling at every other word he said and calling out to everyone who passed by where they stood, whether she knew them or not. When Vic didn’t return immediately, she took Matt’s wrist in an uncompromising grip and pulled him away from the wall, out into the crowd. “Let’s meet some people,” she yelled so he could hear her over the din of music and laughter surrounding them.
“Roxie, I don’t think…” he protested, but that was as far as he got before he found himself dragged into a crush of bodies gyrating in time with the music. Where was Vic? And, almost as important, where was his second beer?
