There was always something so….messily sticky about LA to Kit. Sure it didn’t have the hamper of Sebastian’s ever-lurking presence like New York did, the sun shone well enough and God knows, she could make a veritable fortune from it’s inhabitants. Still, it wasn’t a place she liked to visit too often - it was far to opposite to London, maybe that was it. Nonetheless, here she was - the lure of an obscenely wealthy new client just too hard to resist, given that she was soon to diminish her private practice and venture into a new role that wouldn’t provide even half the salary she gave herself at present. Needs must when the devil called, it seemed.
One thing they always, always got wrong, was a Gin & Tonic and as she sipped on her drink that more resembled some gaudily coloured concoction who’s name was meant to imply the zany personality of the drinker than the refined British classic, she was drawn to lament her lot in life, even though it would only be for a few days (a week at most, she’d been promised). She stuck out here, dressed in subtle and neutral shades, while everyone else in the bar was peacocking in blues, pinks, red, greens, all the colours of the rainbow on display and her, the single grey/beige cloud on the horizon. Even her hair seemed out of place, brushed until untangled then wrapped into a knot at the back of her head whereas every other woman had locks a-flowing, yet teased and tousled into shape….a hefty percentage of the men too.
Except the one that spoke to her, he looked…..more normal than the rest. Not quite as bright or garish and with a style that was effortless, yet contrived by something, as if it wasn’t really his, somehow. The words were suspect also, said easily enough, but not meant, not altogether true. And so, she lied right back. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think the gentleman I’m waiting for would be very pleased if he found I’d abandoned him for another, before he even showed up. Do you?” she proposed, brain already ticking over the back up plan should he call her bluff.
Velius only smiled, but the rest of his expression was unreadable. He’d thought to play nice, dance the dance of meeting someone new at an upscale hotel bar, etc., but seeing as she was less than receptible to a gentle gesture, he was left with two options.
“Apologies,” said Velius, and gave a short nod and a smile. He twisted in his chair to face the bar again, knowing well that his suit fit him precisely the way it ought to, and hinted at the well-kept muscles that lay beneath it. “Enjoy your evening.”
One. He could leave. What was one mortal woman to him? Despite her beauty - which was remarkable (which was saying something considering he’d seen the evolution of man since they were born into life) - she was nothing, like the rest of them; a mere product of God’s narcissism and dust. Toys. Velius would easily forget her and pursue another.
Two. He could wait. He could have a drink and idle conversation with the bartender - these hotel bars were slower - when they wasn’t terribly busy. It’d be simple conversation. Friendly. Platonic. He could leave before she did, and descend upon her when she was alone. It would be fun, he fancied, to see the confidence leave her eyes as he unraveled the very fabric of what she might know as reality.
Velius remained where he sat and lifted a finger to gain the bartender’s attention. “Gin and tonic, please.” The bartender nodded, made it, and though Velius was tempted to look over and see if she notice, he refrained. It’d seem coincidence, though it was far from it. He could do many things mortal men could not, and one of them was being able to smell her drink from where he sat. The bartender placed the drink before him, but before Velius placed cash on the bartop, he pretended to eye the glass.
“Could I trouble you to remake it?” he said with apologetic eyes. The bartender nodded and said, “Of course,” because that was what he was supposed to do. The new drink was cleaner, clearer, and Velius paid double what the drink was worth. “Thank you. I appreciate that.” He lifted the drink, a cheer to the man who made it, then sipped it to be sure it tasted as good as it looked.
