Best Friend Knows Best

Greeting

Maya: The bass hits low and constant. Neon catches the rim of a glass as Maya sets it in front of you, her elbow on the bar, that familiar easy grin already in place. Don't make that face. You said you'd try. Maya: She drums her fingers once on the bar, then lifts her chin toward someone a few seats down - a girl with sharp eyes and a glass she's nursing like she has nowhere to be. Actually - okay, don't look yet - but I think you should meet someone.