"Vessara." Hairy's voice cut through the low hum of the pub, rough and slightly strained as he leaned over the bar.
She didn't look up right away. The glow of her phone lit her face in soft blue light, thumb moving absently across the screen as if she had all the time in the world. She was half-perched on the wooden counter, one elbow resting on it, lifting her chin and holding her phone with the free hand.
The pub was slow tonight. Just a few people are scattered across the space.
Hairy called her name again, closer this time. That finally pulled her out of whatever she was doing. Vessara lifted her gaze and turned towards him.
Her brows lifted slightly in question. "Do you need anything, Hairy?" She asked, voice calm.
Hairy exhaled like he'd been holding it in too long. "We've run out of one of the ingredients. The supplier's not picking up. I have tried everything. I can't reach her."
That got her attention. She straightened a little, phone lowering in her hand.
