Downing her third old fashioned of the night, the blonde looked up from her glass to the person sitting next to her at the bar. “You ever just wanna kill a client? Imagining your hands around their neck isn’t weird at all, right?” she asked jokingly with a laugh before raising her glass to the bartender, indicating she’d like another drink. “I promise, I don’t normally sit in bars talking murder with strangers. Just a bad day…”
“Well I mostly work with kids so I think it’s a little different, but.. It’s not unrelated.” Isabelle shrugged and had a sip of her wine that she so desperately needed. “We’ve all been there, don’t worry about it.”