#@grill

Stealing Damon's cell phone long enough to grab Rebekah's phone number had been easy enough -- the big baby had given him plenty of opportunity while he was busy getting drunk and bitching about... well, various things. Now, thinking of what to send to Rebekah to make sure she'd actually show up...? Eh, well. Ric figured seeing an unknown number sending anything at all would be enough to garner a thousand-year-old's curiosity, but if worst came to worst, she shouldn't be hard to find for himself.

Meet me @ the Grill, there's something you should know.

Next step was letting Damon know he had to bolt, and voila. 

While he was all for up front bluntness these days, he was thinking a truce wasn't exactly what anyone else on the A Team was all for... seeing as he hated the thought of it, himself, too. If all went well, he'd skip the part where everyone bitched and criticized and blah de blah, and let 'em know this was what they were doing in order to protect the recently revived and that was that. (And hopefully... Illyria would back him up on this if need be.) 

But this right here:  this was the hard part. Getting Rebekah to show up and actually listen without bolting and running to tell Klaus before he got a word in. Damn it he hated his alter ego -- needed to be said again.

It wasn't long before he was there, in his stool though, figuring if he was just... sitting there, inoffensive posture and drink in hand with one waiting  for her... maybe she'd get the hint? He couldn't picture his alter ego, from all he'd heard and the bits he could remember, sitting down to have a drink (which was strange and creepy.)