From F8:
Walking into the food court, he stalked and strutted and drummed the air with his hands.
From the corner of his eye, he spied some free samples at the Bourbon chicken place, and detoured to pop a sweet glazed bit of chicken into his mouth. Kelis pounded rhythm into his steps, and he bopped his head. He designed himself a special Cobb salad at Chop't, making sure the Asian girl behind the glass sneeze guard grated extra parmesan on top. Sweet soda in his mouth, he dropped into a quiet corner with the latest US Weekly magazine.
Head in the magazine, Beyonce screaming "Crazy In Love" in his ears, and fork-deep in creamy salad, Danny didn't notice her standing over him until she rapped two bony knuckles on the table.
"God!" His heart pounded. His body wanted to shake. He didn't want to recognize her, but the track suit and pointed squint made it impossible not to. "Oh. Hi."
"Danny, right?" She placed both hands on the table and deftly slipped into the seat across from him. "Miriam," she offered, placing on mottled hand to her chest. Danny stared, straw in mouth: the diamond on her finger was insane. "Nice to see you again."
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