She looks beautiful, her auburn locks in messy waves around her neck, the white dress clinging to every inch of her form-- it’s no matter that it was on the runway yesterday, she wanted it and designers had a tendency to oblige her. She gives the man across from her a practiced smile and takes a long sip of her drink. She is texting underneath the table-- sending familiar words, to a familiar face. She always does this, tries to date the straight laced types-- tries to date upper level ceos-- but they remind her too much of her father, and what they want is the idea of her, not who she is. She has always been a little too complicated, a little too cold at the wrong moments-- she is a maze, and she stopped expecting to get it. She didn’t even get it half the time.
Aria: S.O.S, The Waldorf Astoria, Bar.
It’s three words, but she knows he will get it, she knows he will come.
She spots him sitting at the bar, her favorite whiskey sitting in a tumblr--and a hint of adventure on his lips. She looks at the date in front of her, in his brooks brother’s suit and gives him a polite smile.
“I’m just going-- to go to the bathroom. Excuse me..”
She walks over to the man by the bar and takes her glass and his hand, downing the whiskey in one rather unladylike gulp.
“I know. Never rush McCallan. But It’s an emergency-- and I’m so over talking about the stock market. What took you so long?”
