where: the vices club when: the night after the gala, round midnight who: @ofxfrenchie
“Looks like we’re twins tonight, French.” Raleigh commented as soon as the woman entered hearing range, his gaze dropping to her bruised knuckles and then his own. Despite the meticulous cleaning of his own split knuckles, the cuts stood out even in the dim flashing lights. But, he’d rather split knuckles than a broken nose which might have been what happened if he hadn’t ducked out of the way of a particularly nasty right hook. Thanks again for that lesson, Bomber. He’d been sent to teach a rival dealer a lesson and Raleigh liked to think that he got his point across. That point? H was one that you did not fuck with. But business was done for the night, leaving open a wide availability. He’d chosen to spend that availability, drinking and following a tale of drama all the way to the club. He was truly sorry he had chosen tow work that night instead of attend the gala.
And now, he’d found the subject of said tale. As usual, Frenchie commanded the scene on the floor - which might have been a bad business decision considering all the attention she drew from the dancers. Not that she’d entertain it, however. She took her job seriously, one of the things Raleigh enjoyed about her. Loyalty was an admirable trait. Not to mention, if this rumor was true, there’d be even more to admire about her.
“Good night?”
