The red Jaguar eased to a stop. He fished a rectangular ticket from the inner pocket of his black velvet blazer and slid it into the blinking machine.
Parking had already been validated, so he wasn’t expecting a big number. But money wasn’t the issue.
“Left my wallet back at the restaurant,” he said, looking over at his date.
A lie, but a strategic one.
“You mind?” he asked, with a sheepish grin.
A test, but an effective one.
They locked eyes. He waited patiently for her response and wondered if she knew their fledgling relationship hung in the balance.
The Weekday One Hundred 