alice liddell (inquisitive) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-02-16 21:46:00 |
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Driving on the Strip was something Angie tried to avoid but some evils were necessary, like driving back into town. A quick trip back to LA had her out for a few days, gathering up the last bits of necessities (though she was sure she forgot something, again) but she couldn’t hold it off any longer and headed back to Vegas. At the very least it was a short trip, most of the usual citygoers saving their trip for the weekend, and it was before any late night foot traffic. By the time she had pulled up to her hotel valet, like a handful of times before, she was mentally congratulating herself into a relaxed stupor. When the valet opened up her door she tossed him a bright smile as she handed him her keys, pulling down them modest hem of her beige dress, and happily took a few steps toward the hotel. And then promptly realizing she was at the wrong one. The hotels at City Center were tightly clustered together, their car route a small roundabout with exits spinning off to each individual hotel. She must have gotten off too soon and she quickly search her purse for the ticket the valet handed her. Crushing it to her palm quickly, she spun around to catch the driver. “Wait!” And promptly bumped into someone. Today was not her day. Quickly taking a step back with a long litany of apologies, hands hovering to help him in case he needed to, Angie gave the man a quick once over to see if he was okay. “Sorry, I was just looking for my...” Her eyes shifted past him to over his shoulder, her own slumping visibly as she watched her car disappear into the parking structure. “For my car.” Ethan wasn’t sure he liked Vegas. He’d been a handful of times, never for more than a few days. Usually he flew in on a Friday and out on a Sunday, and he’d passed his time there in a drugged haze while he lost money by the tens of thousands. Standing on the strip sober was a different experience, one that was almost entirely irritating. Crushes of people pushed by him, knocking into him as they hurried about. Others stopped and gawked, staring upward at the hotels and flashing lights like fools. He’d had orange soda spilled on his shoes twice already - somehow - and a child had almost thrown up on him. Why you’d bring a child to Vegas was beyond him. Still, Vegas was a far cry from the cool shade of New England pines, and he liked the dry heat of the desert if nothing else. You’re being boring today, Kaylee’s voice said in his head, a grumble in her tone. He wasn’t sure precisely how, but he could swear he felt her shifting around with a grumpy frown. Ignoring the voice in his head - which, apparently, wasn’t due to a nervous breakdown - he made his way up the drive to the Cosmopolitan, wanting back into his bungalow to brood in peace. Vegas, he’d been told, would be fun. But it wasn’t. He didn’t really want to think on why it wasn’t fun, he just wanted to blame everyone else for his lack of enjoyment. And then a blonde bumped into him. A delicious, delectable blonde. Ain’t she just lovely, Kaylee sighed. One of Ethan’s brows lifted. “Did you misplace it?” he asked the woman standing in front of him. Kaylee huffed in his head, not overfond of being ignored. “Your car, that is.” “What? Oh! No.” Angie ducked her chin as she gave an embarrassed huff of a laugh, feeling some of her tension slip around the crushed valet ticket. “I know where it is. It’s being driven to that magical place where cars magical go when you trust a complete stranger with them.” Her words tumbled into a huff before she realized she had rambled and she quickly shook her head. “Parking structure, I mean. It’s not important. I’ll get in line.” She turned her attention briefly away from his face to the line waiting to get their cars. She could help the slightest pout before giving it up. Well, her luck was bound to have run out eventually. Fifteen... million or so minutes until the valet arrived wouldn’t hurt too much. “Are you okay though? I mean, I’m so, so, so, sorry for that. I was just— Oh you know already. But are you okay?” Leave it to her to find the nearest handsome guy and practically run him over. The end of the this embarrassing day couldn’t come soon enough. “Of course I’m okay,” he said. “You didn’t take a machete to the backs of my knees, you just knocked into me.” His voice had an aggravated edge to it that he didn’t seem to notice, one completely at odds with the pleasantly confused look on his face. He eyed the line and frowned at her. “You just sent the car off. Why are you getting back in line?” You should get ‘er a drink, Kaylee said. His head felt tight for a moment, and he could swear she leaned forward in his brain, pressing against his skull to get a better look at the woman. We like when you do that. Something like a giggle bubbled out of his mind, and Ethan wished he could medicate himself into oblivion just to quiet her. Not. Helpful, he returned. “You really did lose your car, then.” He gave her a wicked, boyishly mischievous grin. The sharp tone in his voice made her recoil slightly, a quick and verbal swat that had her attention. Just as quickly the tension deflated, giving way to something akin to sheepish annoyance that tugged at her brow. Well, served her right for being nice. “Because this isn’t my hotel,” she replied simply, a slight exasperation there at the edges since she had to explain herself. “I guess I got confused for a second. I was heading back to Vdara.” Vdara with its tranquil atmosphere and lack of casino and calm, soothing environment. Clearly she wasn’t the Cosmopolitan type, with all of its bright lights, loud music, and trendy good looking guests. She gave him a quick glance, a sly attempt at a once over as she realized it might be more his type. When he reminded her that she had lost her car she tried to give him her best withering look, which Angie was woefully no good at. But she could gracefully admit defeat, especially with a grin like his, and she offered him her own as she nodded. “I guess I did. But I’ll be getting it soon enough. Or I will when the line lets up.” She gave the line another frown before leaning around and getting a look at her destination, just one hotel over from where they were. “Or maybe I’ll just walk. These heels haven’t killed me yet.” She leaned to look at her destination, he leaned to look at her legs and what her heels did to her legs. Rude. Ignoring Kaylee, Ethan gave the woman a small smile and offered his hand. “In exchange for your name, I can get your car for you in no more than 90 seconds. How’s that sound?” The little smile was certainly winsome, one he’d perfected over the years. He could hardly remember a time his father hadn’t been in politics, and constantly being in the limelight meant he had to constantly look like he was enjoying himself. Ethan wore no false smiles with obviously practiced edges. He wore only genuine ones. Show off, she huffed. One of these days, I’ll show you Serenity an’ then you’ll stop thinkin’ your shiny money is so great. Nuisance, he retorted, trying desperately to block out Kaylee’s voice. Angie had always been a sucker for smiles and Ethan's melted any lingering irritation, her own lips lifting in turn. Maybe it was flirting, just a little, but that never hurt anyone. This wasn’t going to go anywhere. "Angela," she said with a firm shake of his hand before tucking her blonde hair over her ear. "And that's okay. Really, I don't need anything special. A little exercise won't hurt right?" Two hotel stretches? Hardly anything. "But I'll take your name and call it even." “Ethan, and I’d be a terrible person if I let a woman walk a block in those shoes.” Unless she was walking a block in those shoes to his head. Then it would be different. Fong luh, Kaylee muttered. Are you speaking Chinese at me again? Shiny as your people are, I’d reckon you’d know some. Her reply was almost terse, but fell more in the camp of irritable disdain, as though it was beyond her to conceive of someone who didn’t speak Chinese. “Now, I’ve got a proposition for you,” he said smoothly, having managed to master the art of carrying on two conversations at the same time - one in reality and one with the woman in his head. “I can hand that valet a fifty to bring your car around inside of a minute, or I can use that same fifty to buy you a lunch.” He gave her a wide, hopeful smile. She gave him a sidelong look and a soft chuckle, her fingers covering mouth to hide it. Persistent, she'd give him that. And she would have been lying if she said she didn't enjoy the attention. But still, Vegas tended to attract a certain type, herself notwithstanding. Weekday Vegas goer? Not really her type. Well, not that she had much of one. But she was sure this wasn’t it. "How about," she drawled warmly, smile still gracing her features, "you keep your fifty.” She tapped her hand gently against his chest before she pointed at the valet guys over his shoulder. “They can keep my car. And we buy our own lunches?" Going their separate ways, the hop to her hotel wasn't anything and they wouldn't care if she left her car. Everything neatly solved. “So you’ll have lunch with me as long as I let you pay for it?” he asked, brows lifting, his smile turning playful. With a loose grip, he caught her wrist, sliding his fingers over the soft skin until they curled around hers. He brought her knuckles to his lips for a light kiss, his eyes never leaving hers. In his head, Kaylee groaned. You’re gross. Let her go. In a minute, he replied. If she said no to lunch, he’d let her go. There wasn’t any need to push himself on her. “Uhh….” Not her most eloquent response but Angie was a bit thrown. Hand kissing? In the daytime? Archaic flirty overtures were usually reserved for the evening, when everyone was a little drunk and hand kissing was something done for the novelty of being dramatic. Like opening cab doors with a bow or setting jackets down on rain puddles. Not midday amongst casinogoers and tourists. Still, there was that fun thrill of getting her hand kissed by cute men. That didn’t change no matter what the time of day. And the faint grumble of her stomach every time one of them mentioned the word lunch. Apparently that wasn’t going away either “Lunch, then. I’ll even let you pick,” she announced, as if she was throwing a small boon in his favor. Her hand turned to hold his wrist this time, tugging him gently to follow her through the automated doors. “Go crazy.” She wasn’t hankering for anything in particular and she certainly could afford anything the hotel had to offer. She was more curious as to what he’d choose. “There’s a sushi bar and grill,” he replied, ushering her toward the door with his hand on the small of her back. “I haven’t eaten there yet, but I can’t imagine anyone would have anything unpleasant to say about raw fish on rice and fatty meat slathered in barbecue sauce.” He held up two fingers to the concierge when they arrived at the restaurant, and they were seated quickly. “What brings you to Vegas, Angela?” he asked, idly unwrapping his silverware and laying the napkin across his lap. This place is so shiny... Kaylee breathed in his mind, all but dragging his eyes around the restaurant. With a suppressed sigh, he ghosted his view from one side of the establishment to the other, never lingering, trying to look as if he were taking it all in. It would satisfy her for a bit, at least. “Work, mostly,” she replied with a shrug, setting her bag on the back of her chair, frowning slightly as the edge of her new tablet still peeked out the opening. She tried to adjust it slightly and she heard the jingle of her keys and winced, praying silently that they weren’t scratching the smooth surfaces. Though she knew, or rather was told, it would be replaced if it broke, she still wasn’t resting easily. But that was for another time. She was already being rude enough by giving it, and not her lunch companion, attention. Turning back to him she gave him a sheepish smile before it flickered away as she answered his question properly. “I was here actually last week but had some things to pick up in LA. My work, my new work, actually, is based downtown so I’m working here. For now.” Of course there was more to it: that niggling feeling to go to Vegas, the strange tablet and key, but no need to get perfect strangers mixed up in all of that. Besides, she had no real illusions that her position was all that permanent. This was just something to save face. Eventually Brandel’s board would want someone more experienced to truly helm. Las Vegas, and all the reasons to be there, was just temporary. That was the story and she was sticking to it. “How about you?” She unfolded her napkin across her lap with a flourish before running down the menu and gleefully seeing so many things that she must try. The excited grin that was crossing her face was hard to hide. “What brings you here?” Ethan, who wasn’t at all fond of sushi, didn’t bother looking at the menu. Leaning back in his seat, he shrugged just the slightest bit. “I had a nervous breakdown and my shrink sent me here for some rest. Something about the atmosphere being great. Got myself a bungalow here a few days ago.” He eyed her, judging her response to his psychosis. People were predictable in their reactions, and he used their judgment of him to judge them in turn. “What kind of work do you do?” He wasn’t really curious, but it was a good topic of conversation, and it would allow him to turn the conversation toward topics that would be more interesting. Maybe he’d pretend he wanted to sleep with her. That would be amusing for a bit. You’re horrible, Kaylee told him. She seems nice. Be nice to her. And I want to try that sushi stuff. Is it really raw fish? He suppressed a sigh and resolved to order a plate of something benign like California rolls. His revelation had Angela starting slightly, quiet blinking as the words sunk in. She certainly wouldn’t begrudge anyone seeing a shrink – four close familial deaths had Angela seeing a fair amount – and wouldn’t judge anyone for having a breakdown. If he was looking for sympathy, and she squinted slightly before deciding that no, he didn’t seem the type for it, he wasn’t going to get any from. “You’ll have to give me their name.” Her smile didn’t quite falter, growing a bit more conspiratorial than soft, but she did look up from her menu. “My last one just told me to collage and paint my feelings out. A bungalow sounds like much nicer prescription.” Questions about her work were predicted but still there was a slight moment where she almost talked about the museum, not her new position. Even now, it was sometimes hard to wrap her head around it. “Pharmaceuticals. Well, the company at least. I’m no scientist. I’m more…” How to say it… “Behind the scenes. Books and numbers and things.” Not that she was exactly ashamed of being the head of Brandel but certainly it wasn’t something she liked to tout a lot. Thankfully she was saved when the waiter came by and her moment of awkward lifted. When the man turned to her she happily rattled off an appetizer, two rolls, and after a bit hemming and hawing, a small rare steak. “Sorry,” she offered with a laugh to both of the men. “I guess I’m hungrier than I thought.” And she was paying for herself so guilt? Completely free. He hadn’t pegged her for the nerdy science type, and so felt some level of vindication when she quickly amended her position in the company. Considering she was willing to pay for her own meal at a restaurant in the Cosmopolitan - he surreptitiously checked the menu for the restaurant name again and vaguely remembered hearing about it on a television show - she was likely high up in the books and numbers scene of her company. How nice to be among his people. “Accounting?” he inquired, keeping his tone light. The waiter appeared, hovering unobtrusively at the edge of their table, and once Angela placed her order, Ethan said, “Steak, still bleeding if you will, peppercorn, and creamy mashed potatoes.” Sushi, Kaylee reminded him. With a wince, he added, “And a plate of California rolls.” The waiter inclined his head and left them, and Ethan gave Angela a grin. “It’s nice to see a woman who isn’t grimacing over a plate of salad.” There were too many of them in his social circles, anyway. How refreshing to see she wasn’t one of them. “Uhhh… Not exactly.” The eloquence continued as Angie quietly weighed the pros and cons (mostly cons) of telling him exactly what she did. “It’s boring. Terrible work, really.” Hey, that was some truth! “I’m going to miss my old job, I can feel it now. I think I’m better suited for museums and dig sites. Too clean in an office,” she said with a wry laugh, clearly more comfortable with the topic now that they’ve moved beyond her current occupation. “Not enough dirt or relics for my liking.” Or interesting work, in general. She gave another laugh and tucked her hair over her ear, just a tiny bit self-conscious. “I can either pretend to be dainty and cute and be still hungry and cranky for the rest of lunch or I can possibly gross you out but have a full stomach by the end of it. I’ll go the happy route any day.” Flashing him a grin, she turned the tables back to him. “So when you’re not here, doctor’s orders and all, what do you do?” Dig sites? That sounded intriguing - to both him and Kaylee. Ask her why she’s digging in dirt, Kaylee demanded, somehow prodding a bit of his brain hard enough to produce a sharp ache behind his eyes. Stop that or I won’t. With that retort, she huffed and flopped backward in his head, a strangely weighty presence that made the left side of his head feel heavier than the right. Bizarre, bizarre sensations to which he was only slowly becoming accustomed. “Not much, to be honest. Invest, I suppose,” he replied, trying to sound as dismissive as possible. He hadn’t had a job in four years, and he didn’t intend to have one any time in the near future. That was a benefit of living off daddy’s money. “You were an archeologist, then? What made you leave that for accounting?” Ah, investments. Angie was nodding slowly, clearly following but not quite believing. Investments tended to be crutch of an answer, and with that I suppose tacked on the end she sincerely doubted it. But if he wanted to say it, then that was fine with her. She had no interest in following it up with questions about investing. The lie could stay intact. With the new line of questioning she was visibly torn, eager to talk of one thing, hesitant to talk of the other. And now the hedging was finally coming to an end she took a deep sip of her water before finally admitting it all. “Actually, it’s not accounting. I… Well. My sister passed a few months ago. So I’m handling a few things for her at the company.” Though even now she still was dancing around the truth, it was clear that she was right. It wasn’t accounting, and very few positions would ever need a family member to take over for them, other than the ones at the very top. “But archaeology!” Turning back to subjects she loved, and flashing a smile at the waiter once he brought over their appetizer of a small plate of salted edamame, gesturing for Ethan to partake if he wanted. “That’s more of my expertise. Not that Vegas isn’t nice but can’t really find anything interesting in the sand here. Though I’m being a little too dramatic.” She picked at the food with the tips of her fingers, waving the greens as she talked like a pointer before popping them into her mouth. “I haven’t been on an actual dig in years. Mostly did those at university. Work has been curating museums until recently but a girl can dream and long for dirt, can’t she?” The smirk that curled across his lips was certainly cruel, and he would have jumped on it if Kaylee hadn’t dug her heels into his brain with a firm no, exerting a fantastic amount of control over him he hadn’t known she possessed. Perhaps this place had something to do with it, strengthening her ability to exert her will on his body. It was creepy - creepifying, she corrected - but not wholly unpleasant. She acted like the conscience he’d never bothered to grow, and it was almost reassuring to have her presence in his mind. While he doubted he could ever force himself to change, she could, and her repeated actions would create a habit in him. How fortunate for him. She kicked him and reminded him that she - that they - weren’t a science experiment. His smirk melted into a more genuine expression of interest. “No running around the middle east and discovering the ark of the covenant and crystal alien skulls in South America?” he inquired, giving her a boyish grin. “Curating sounds... like a lot of inventory work. Is it?” Angie gave him a wide green, pearly whites catching the edges of her edamame pod in a moment of impropriety before she quickly ducked her chin and polished off her food. “I wish. I think I might have watched too much Indy as a kid. I was sorely disappointed when I arrived in Jordan and there weren’t any rolling rocks I had to get away from.” Another sip of her water gave her a moment of respite though she was still sighing dreamily with all the talk. “It’s not so bad. Every job has it’s dull moments and honestly I wouldn’t consider it that dull. Going over what’s coming in and what we have? Relishing all the little details, where it came from, what it was used for, the people who used it? I mean, it’s anything you can slap together with some rock music and make an exciting montage of,” or was it, “but I like it. Plus I then got to handle the exhibits we’d show them off in. And that I guess is a little more… oomph?” The word in question was punctuated by her hand snatching another soybean pod, twirling it slightly in the air. “Setting it up, getting voice overs. Making sure I have enough plastic covers to protect from small child spit. The fun stuff!” It didn’t even sound like she was kidding. “But that’s boring stuff. Nothing interesting.” She waved her hand just as the waiter returned, stopping her mile a minute conversation to spare him a grin and her too many plates a look of hunger and delight. “How about you tell me what being in Vegas is like.” Flashing him a bright grin she picked up her chopsticks and drove into her meal, her obvious enjoyment of the delicious food never hindering her hanging on his answers for the rest of the lunch. |