[ open starter for bloodngloryhq ]

There was almost nothing in Los Angeles that could strike Whitney; she was hardly ever surprised, or frightened, or at a loss. The events- as they unfolded at the Hope Charity Gala- put those feelings of hers into a bit of turmoil. For a moment, a flash of uncertainty washed over her mind. The woman couldn't seem to jam the pieces together in anyway that would make them fit-- how did this directly relate to the business she was in, and how would she be affected?

Her single greatest concern at the end of any day, always.

It was easy enough to get lost in the edges of the crowd. She was gone because anyone official showed up and started to ask questions. Getting caught up in the who was and wasn't there of any situation was not her cup of tea. Once she'd arrived back at her high-rise apartment, her fingers were practically cramped from the speed at which she'd been dialing.

"Where are you?" The urgency in Whit's voice was unmistakable. The woman pulled an aching pin from the top of her hair and flung it into the kitchen counter. "Have you been home all night?" Alone, so no one can question the validity of your statement?? She worried absently at her bottom lip, "Can you come over?