Romi Vane (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} vanegirl) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} finnigans_rpg,@ 2015-02-14 20:26:00 |
 |
|||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Who: Romilda and Franklin (NPC)
What: Romi's Valentine's Day alone takes an unexpected turn
Where: Finnigan's bar
When: 14th February, late
Rating: Eh... adult themes and Romi kisses a 50-year-old man.
Romilda had taken herself out for a drink after closing Quickpulse with Emma. She'd worn a sheer black dress for the day at work and hadn't bothered to change except to slip on some strappy high heels before heading to Finnigan's.
Settling into a seat at the bar she ordered a glass of white wine with a smile and was surprised when the gentleman next to her - also alone - turned around. She didn't often speak to clients outside of setting the meetings for her girls, but she knew a few of them from various communities in Wizarding Britain. This one was one of those. It had been a while since he'd arranged a meeting, though, and without hesitating, Romilda smiled. "Franklin, I don't usually see you in a pub, how are you doing?" Her tone was immediately that of the well-bred businesswoman. Franklin was in real estate and educated as a lawyer, and had always treated her girls well. He usually only wanted them for society functions or boring dinners with his own clients. They'd never had anything but nice things to say about him, and her dealings with him had always been pleasant and profitable.
He smiled, "Romilda Vane, I'm doing well, thank you. What are you doing out alone on such a night as this?" The formality of his words was belied by a sparkle of mischievousness in his eyes. Returning his smile she answered, "You know me, all work and no play. We just closed up the shop for the night and I thought I deserved a glass of wine." Just then the bartender brought her order over and she thanked him and asked him to keep her tab open. Turning back to Franklin she cocked her head, "And what are you doing here alone? I heard you've been seeing a fellow lawyer, Serena Schmidt was it?" He nodded, "I had been," he confirmed. "We dated for a few months and apparently when I didn't invest in a very large diamond for her Christmas gift, she worried we were going anywhere at all." He shrugged.
Romilda made the appropriately empathetic face and then brightened up again, "Well, at least it means you don't have to buy chocolates and flowers on a day like today." She shrugged as well when he nodded and lifted his martini for a toast. "To ignoring Valentine's Day in lovely company," he announced, earning a small giggle from her.
Many drinks later, there was much less space between them and he had long since placed his hand on her knee. When he ordered a bottle of champagne, Romilda gave him a knowing look and leaned in to whisper in his ear, "I'm having a good time here, Frank, but make no mistake. I'm not one of my girls." Before she had a chance to pull back, though, he brought a hand up to her neck, caressing her skin lightly and saying into her ear, "I know, and I didn't intend to treat you like one. But I'm certainly having a good time, too." He applied just a bit of pressure to where he held her head and slanted his lips over hers before she could react. Her hands moved to his shirt and she gripped tightly, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
Romilda had always had strict rules about business and pleasure. She was only 22 when she started in both of her industries, after all, and you didn't get to be both a respectable businesswoman and a well-paid madam by 24 without very certain types of control over your life (her worse personal addictions aside, of course). Kissing this man, though, a former client and a gorgeous, wealthy, older wizard - something inside her wanted to buck the rules and see where the night went. Right now.
Romilda told him as such (without the details, of course, because they were in public, after all) when she broke the kiss and he canceled the order for the bottle. "Both of our tabs, please," he told the bartender, without breaking eye contact with her. Putting down the money they both owed, he stood, wrapping an arm around her tiny waist. "Let's go, then," he said, that same sparkle in his eyes before apparating them both out of the bar and to the bedroom of his flat.