CLOSED / @teagansmaron
A fully stocked bar available to her whenever she wants is maybe one of Reina’s favorite perks of her recently purchased restaurant. She’s always greeted with a generously full glass of wine and a smile before she even makes it to a bar stool, her ass kissing employees having learned very quickly what to have ready for her when she walks through the doors. She hasn’t yet needed to go behind the bar to pour her own glass of wine but it’s busy tonight, much busier than Reina had predicted it’d be, and even she knows when to give her staff a break. As she’s pouring she looks around the room, careful not to make eye contact with anyone she knows from her past in an attempt to save herself from bullshit small talk, though one woman sitting at the bar catches her eye. “Teagan Maron,” she greets as she leans forward on the bar across from the woman, fixing her with a smile that she doesn’t mean to be predatory. “What on Earth are you doing here? Last I heard you moved out to California.” Not that Reina’s all that up to date on this girl’s life — she just knows through social media and Facebook and honestly, she’d been happy that Rowan’s childhood friend had managed to drag herself out of Olympus.
