Her wounds healed as the time passed and after taking a shower and dressing in her own clothes Aimée felt almost good again. The little voice inside her head didn't let her forget her duty, though, so she sat down in one of her leather chairs and thought about where to go, while looking at one of her favourite pcitures on the wall. She put if up again right after she got home, something not even this nagging could prevent her of - there were going to be better times from now on, she knew it and this picture reinforced her believe: a beautiful woman sitting calmly on a bench under a tree in the middle of a field of flowers, some bright spots showing the sunlight falling through the branches...
But she had to focus. At first she thought about Club Avalon, since it certainly seemed to be the most sophisticated club of Sacramento, but the fear of meeting Argent again made her look for alternatives. But there weren't really any save bets for 'respected beautiful women'; if Argent's there she could act accordingly, but she certainly won't cover at home just because that bastard somehow managed to overcome her charm. No, the Avalon it was.
She drove her white Mini to Club Avalon and entered. Now, where are you, Prettyboy? As far as she could tell he wasn't there, so she could instead look out for a woman that met Samael's criteria.