Closed to @fclisin
He’d had enough; as far as he was concerned he’d stayed the appropriate amount of time, as not to come off impolite to their hosts. He’d shaken hands, laughed at widely unfunny jokes and listened to at least five different stories about grandkids and there recent galavanting across Europe ( lucky them ). It was time to dip out and go have some real fun. He’d said his goodbyes, agreed to a few business dinners, checked to make sure his siblings were sufficiently taken care of, and in some cases watched over and beelined it straight out of there. As Ezra exited the club, the stiff spring air cut his cheeks, harsh like blades. It was the time of the year where it was still cold, but there wasn’t that much of a bit to it. You still had to wear a coat, but your fingers didn’t feel like they were going to fall off if you forgot to bring a pair of gloves with you. Nothing was as unkind as Chicago in the wintertime - the city was an unforgiving temptress and his pipes were proof of it. Thanking the doorman, he walked over to the valet, handing well a kid really wearing a red waistcoat his number. He could have used one of their drivers, but Ezra knew he’d be in fit form to drive, at the very least to Saphire, he could always take a taxi if he really needed. However, he always preferred to drive when he could.
Ezra waited at the front of the hotel for the valet to pull up with his car, thinking about the recent weird turn of events; specifically, a certain blond that had intrigued him, to say the least. Look Ezra wasn’t mystified enough to forget the fact that she was a Sinclair and he was a Costello - he wasn’t going to let his guard down or act like an hour of quick-witted banter changed anything for him: His family would always come first nothing would ever change that. But he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t something about her that interested him. They seemed to have been painted by the same brush, ferociously loyal, and untrusting of anyone on the other side of the camp. If nothing else he respected her for it. Loyalty wasn’t something you came across every day; real true loyalty that is. Not the mutated kind; for selfish gain; but the kind you only have for family. It made him at the very least want to have a drink with her. Ezra was pulled from his thoughts when he sleek black pulled into the entrance.
He walked over as the valet got out, handing him the keys. He flashed the kid a smile, stuffing a fifty-dollar bill into the younger man’s breast pocket. Sure he had over tipped, but he was sure the kid would find something to spend it on. He climbed inside, and rolled down the windows, letting in the night air. That’s when he saw her - Sinclair - but not just any - the one his mind had drifted off to. Curiously he leaned over, peeking his head out the window of the passenger seat, contorting his body in a rather uncomfortable manner. “Hey Sinclair, need a ride?” he offered, waiting for her reaction. What the hell was he doing? Eh, it wouldn’t be the first time Ezra just let the night take him where it wanted to. With everything his family had been through he was a firm believer in making your own luck. He unlocked the car door: a symbol. Not that he hadn’t been hilariously upfront: she hadn’t seemed to be fond of bullshit and quite frankly he didn’t really think he’d get anywhere if he tried. So Ezra had decided to just play it bare-faced. “What’s the worst that could happen?” Well someone could end up dead ( or kidnapped ) but honestly what was the odds of that happening twice? Knowing the city, and its cruel sense of humour perhaps he shouldn’t be joking about that; but still. It’s a few drinks at the Saphire; hardly anything to write home about.