Funny running into him again, when life sucks. Miranda is tempted to throw now away and hurry backwards toward what could have been. Life would certainly have been different, but better?
He catches her eye during the evening, smiles, not sardonically as he used to, but gently as if the years had tempered him.
Could he have changed?
A plump blonde appears at his side, curling an arm around his waist, before sending a baleful eye toward Miranda.
Miranda grins then tosses back the remainder of her zinfandel.
She reminds herself again: leopards do not change spots.