| Meeting new faces. |
[26 Nov 2005|04:27pm] |
Despite the general hustle and bustle of Las Vegas, it was possible to find a quiet spot and be left alone in it. Oliver had found himself just such a spot, parking himself at a table near the back of a restaurant to make phone calls. He was feeling a little out of sorts because he hadn't had a drink all day, but he also hadn't wanted to lose the memory of Jill's wrist against his lips, her blood in his mouth. So it was a trade-off of sorts.
"No, I want you to sell the rest of the stock," he said, tucking the phone between his chin and shoulder in order to light a cigarette. "The market's going to hell in a handcart and I've lost too much money from bad investments this year. I'd be better off pissing it away at the craps table."
He scribbled some information into the notebook that was open on the table, then shook his head and said, "Martin, just listen to me, okay? Sell the stock. Sell it, put the money in real estate or something. Real estate, precious metals, I don't care. Do what I'm paying you to do, keep me from taking a financial bath. 'Kay?"
Meredith was bored.
How it was possible to be bored in a city such as this was unfathomable to most people who came here. But she was a different sort. Generally, she tired easily of amusements that would keep ordinary people entertained for long periods of time. It's just the way she was.
Hoping to find something new to occupy her time, she wandered in and out of various bars and restaurants for the duration of the day, deciding to stop at one in particular to grab something to drink. Upon entering the establishment, she was met with the quiet din of very few patrons. A small yawn escaped her lips as she sat herself down at a table.
She examined the people around her as she pulled a cigarette from the pack in her pocket and slid it between her lips. Patting herself in search of a lighter, she realized to her own disdain that she must have left it in the casino. "Damnit," she muttered, pulling it away from her mouth and standing. She swiftly and rather confidently approached a man sitting at the back of the restaurant. "You gotta light?" she asked him.
The phone still cradled in the crook of his shoulder, Oliver held up the index finger of his other hand in a 'wait a minute' gesture. "I'll be in touch in a couple of days. I gotta get off this phone and have some lunch, my stomach feels like my throat's been cut. Make sure that gets done, hmm?"
Shaking his head, he slipped the phone into his jacket pocket. "Moron." Then he eyed the sudden arrival, his expression slightly wary. Picking up his lighter, he passed it across the short distance between them.
"Help yourself. You can't imagine how grateful I was to find a place where I could smoke inside. What's this city coming to, anyway?"
Meredith took the lighter from the man and helped herself to the flame. Taking a long drag, she darted her eyes around the room. "A veritable shithole, that's what," came her deadpan reply. "I think my travel agent neglected to mention the charm and glamor of busted out windows and bulletholes."
She smirked slightly, and passed him back the ligher after flicking the top closed. "Oh well, makes me feel at home," she mused to herself.
"Riots will do that," Oliver responded blandly, accepting the lighter back. Puffing on his own cigarette, he asked, "Want to see a real shithole? Try Seattle sometime."
Maybe it was time for that drink after all. Yawning slightly, he raised his hand for the waiter. "Are you going to hover or are you going to sit down?" he asked the woman. "You're giving me a crick in my neck."
( Talkin' to strangers. ) "Well I hate to love you and leave ya, Ollie," she said with a smile, "But I have to be on my way."
He blinked at her, both puzzled and amused. No one had ever called him 'Ollie' in his life. "Please, let me," he said, removing his wallet from his jacket pocket. "I've taken up enough of your time, I can at least cover your bill."
He wondered if he shouldn't call Jill later that evening. She was probably wondering why she hadn't heard from him about that spell yet. Opening his billfold, Oliver said, "I should probably be off anyway.Things to do, chaos to spread. You know how it is."
"I definately do," she responded, standing. She held out her hand for a shake. "It really was nice to meet you. Maybe I'll run into you again sometime soon."
Picking up her purse from the floor, she slung it over her shoulder and smiled. "Thanks again for lunch," she said with a smile. "Good luck with the chaos."
He shook her hand warmly, sat back against the cushion and lit a cigarette. "Believe me, I need all the luck I can get," he said. "And the city's not that big. I'm sure we'll see each other again. Have a nice afternoon."
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