Currently between assignments, Persephone Comnena has no earthly reason not to follow up on the invitation presented to her so mysteriously, and so she comes down to the Big Easy a few days early with some extra business cards and a few copies of her resume and makes a bit of business tourism out of the affair.<br/><br/>This also means she's running a few minutes late, since she got a call at the last minute from a prospective employer, but as things turn out she's not what they need (and she doesn't really care to go looking for oil deposits out in the Gulf of Mexico right now, regardless of the pay).<br/><br/>After that, though...<br/><br/>She enters, hair pulled back into a tight French braid, a severe charcoal-grey skirt-suit and pearl colored blouse, briefcase in hand, and scans the room carefully, seeking any hint of her mysterious new friend and the business that might have called her from her beloved rocks.  Seeing nothing immediately (and not expecting otherwise) she approaches the bar and orders a White Russian.<br/><br/>(She suppresses a momentary pang of regret that she did not have time for a good game of chess earlier, nor for a conversation with her closest male friend about tonight's affair.  Fate's Heavy Hand shall find her soon enough, she knows.  It always does.)