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else would she be?
    Then memories of the night before slammed into her like a jolt of lightning.
    Ohmigod!
    Had she really done all those things? With a stranger? Two strangers? In public, no less?
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    For a moment, she wanted to pull the covers over her head and hide under them for the rest of the week. No, not practical. She needed to get up and get to work. Besides, she reminded herself, hadn’t she wished for something like that? Wanted to do those things?
    The hot shower helped the lingering aches, and a good application of makeup helped conceal the ravages of staying out way too late and indulging in too many things. It wasn’t until she was in the cab going to work that she remembered she’d left her umbrella in the bar.
    Oh, well. No problem. I’ll get it at lunch time. Or after work.
    But when she exited the cab at the entrance to her office building and looked for the heavy wooden door and the sign, Interlude, she couldn’t find it. In its place was a door painted black with the words Danny’s Pub in white letters.
    No! This isn’t possible. Am I going crazy?
    She walked over to the door and yanked on the handle, but it didn’t budge. Locked. She’d try again at noon. And maybe ask some of the others at work if they knew about Interlude.
    The minutes crawled by as she worked at her desk. People stopped by, and she found ways to casually ask if they knew about the bar, but no one seemed to have heard of it. The closer it came to noon, the tighter the knot in her stomach grew. What the hell was going on?
    She was just shutting down her computer and getting ready to leave for lunch and some snooping when the receptionist came in carrying a long white box.
    “For you,” she grinned. “Got a secret admirer?”
    “Not that I know of.” She cut the tape holding the lid in place and ripped off the top. And gasped. Inside lay her umbrella. Next to it was a note that said, Here’s to stormy weather.
    So it was true. She hadn’t imagined it all. Had she?
    Well, she had her umbrella back but she still was going to investigate. How could one bar just disappear like that and another one take its place?
    She fidgeted all the way down in the elevator, impatient as they stopped at floor after floor. Finally, they reached the ground floor, and she pushed past people in the lobby, almost shoving some of them aside in her haste to reach the sidewalk.
    Yes, there it was. Danny’s. This time, when she pulled on the door, it swung open, and she stepped not into a dimly lit environment but into a brightly lit, noisy pub filled with a lunchtime crowd. The booths lining the wall were all open—none with curtains—and tables jammed the space between the booths and the bar.
    What was going on here? Her body told her she hadn’t imagined the evening, but how could a place just disappear like this? She started towards the bar, nearly bumping into a waiter bearing a loaded tray.
    “Hey, lady, watch it, okay?” he snapped, sidestepping her.
    “Oh. Yes. Sorry.”
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    She stood at the end of the bar and waited edgily until the bartender noticed her.
    “What can I get you?” he asked, slapping a paper cocktail napkin down in front of her.
    “Nothing. I just want to ask you a question.”
    “Make it snappy. We’re busier than hell today.”
    “Just tell me something. Has this place always been here?”
    He looked at her as if she’d grown three heads. “Are you crazy or something? Of course, it has. Now if you don’t want a drink, I got customers to take care of.”
    “Okay, okay. Thanks.”
    Back out on the sidewalk, she stood looking at the door, her nerves jittery, a funny feeling in her stomach. She wasn’t given to fanciful imaginings, nor did she believe in the paranormal. But how to explain the whole mystery of the previous night? And the