Diane

​She poured herself another glass of wine and set the bottle back into the bucket it had been soaking in.  She smoothed nonexistent wrinkle out of her white cloth napkin, running her hand over her knee has it bounced, knocking her spiked heel against the hardwood floor like a woodpecker.
​“ Would you like to order any food this evening?”
​“What?” She yelped, then thought of the long drive home. “I guess so.  I’ll have the alfredo. Thanks.” As he left, the server collected the untouched dinnerware from her table.