2012 02 09 Trust

Log Title:

Empath, Misty Knight, Alchemy

IC Date:

Silver Crest

Brief log summary::
Manuel and Misty bump into each other, and an innocent Alchemy and Misty have a rather deep conversation after Empath is forced to take off.


There is no TS in this log::

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It is early Thursday evening, right about the time when people are leaving work and heading to bars or restaurants for happy. Such is the case with Manuel de la Rocha. Having heard of the luxurious and wealthy playhouse at the Silver Crest, Empath has opted to head there to see what fun he can have with those who are more amusing to enthrall. Entering the lounge dressed, casually in an expensive pair of jeans with a bluish sweater and long black coat to beat the light flurry outside. Making his way to a table, he eyes the patrons when a cute little cocktail waitress simply comes by and offers his a drink without him even asking much to the chagrin of those present. He smiles and takes the drink…nice white wine. He nods and snaps his fingers dismissing the waitress, which she happily goes along and away.

Misty is off the clock for once — a state of affairs which she generally does not engage in willingly. But she glowered her way out of the hospital early. And the arm has been repaired. But the plain human parts of her still need some time. A client surprised her with a gift certificate to the Silver Crest. Dinner and whatever passes for entertainment uptown as a distraction? Misty's giving it a shot, at least.

Sipping his wine, Manuel takes the glass with him as he gets up and saunters about. Doing peripheral emotional scans of all present, he tries to find who is ripe for the picking. That quickly ends when he spots the detective, a smile forms on his face and he makes his way towards her, "Mercedes, is that you?" He asks knowing full well it is her.

Misty turns and glances over her shoulder as her name is called. "Why, Manuel. Fancy meeting you here." She is dressed a lot more casually herself this time. Black leather pants, matching boots, and a black cashmere cardigan under a black trenchcoat. "I forget sometimes how small this island really is." Her hair, sleek and smooth at the party, is back in the characteristic 'I-dare-you-to-say-a-word-about-it-' afro.

Taken a bit aback by her more casual outfit and 70s hairstyle, Manuel grins, "Yeah, I wanted to get out of the cold and snow and had heard this place was good." The same waitress as earlier strolls by once with a tray of beverages and stops short and looks to Misty, "Drink, ma'am?" With the grin still present, he sips his wine. "Mind if I join you?"

Misty raises a hand politely, shaking her head to the waitress, "I'm good, thank you." She gestures to the seat across. "A friend gifted me with a trip here. End of a spa day. A change of pace is sometimes just what the doctor ordered."

The waitress looks at Manuel before leaving. He offers a smile and gestures at a table, "Well, the food here is supposed to be very good. So let's eat, why don't we?" He finds a table right next to them and as a gentleman pulls out her chair for her. "How've you been since the party? How's Jon?"

"That's what I'm told," Misty agrees. She smiles at the gentlemanly gesture. "I've been well, thank you. I hope the day finds you doing well." She doesn't doubt it. He looks as well — and as good — as he did at the party. "Oh, Jon's fled back to Symkaria, as was expected. I had the feeling one good scare would do him a world of good."

"Good riddance then. I have to tell you I never liked him much. Very snooty. I come from money too, but I never felt the need to flaunt it…" He takes his own seat after she sits, "…well not always anyway." He laughs, "I am doing well myself. Things are going well in school and I will be heading out to England in a little bit. A friend's family has been having some problems I am going to see if I can help out." The same waitress seems to come back and asks to take their order. While there are others who have been waiting earlier, she comes right to Manuel and Misty.

"He just has some growing up to do," Misty replies with a shrug. "Sheltered, privileged life, and not a lot else to do but spend the money. He just needs his horizons broadened some. I expect he'll get bored again before much longer and venture out again. And as before, his father will make sure someone like me is around to make sure he doesn't get in over his fool head."

She glances up, surprised, as the waitress shows up so quickly. But she orders a Prime Rib with new potatoes in rosemary. Returning her attention to her tablemate, she says, "Well, it's nice to get to travel, but I'm sorry to hear about the circumstances. I hope everything works out for your friend."
"Well, if I am unable to help. The school will. It is a classmate of mine and thankfully the school has some amazing resources." Manuel offers a grin and has a filet mignon. The waitress leans in to whisper something in her ear and he nods as she goes to place their orders, "Apparently our meal is free." He seems almost confused but shrugs, "I guess you can taste the food and save the gift certificate for another time."

"Good to have resources like that available, certainly," Misty confirms. "Where is it you go to school?" They never did get that far into the conversation before Montes De Oca and his philandering rich man shook the party up.

Misty widens her eyes in surprise as Manuel apparently is advised by the waitress that the meal is free. She looks dubious for a moment, but then shrugs. She's not supposed to be stressing, and nobody has walked up to her and mentioned who she is, so it's not the recognition factor. "So it would appear." She leaves well enough alone.

"Oh it is a small academy in Massachusetts. You'd never have heard of it. Kinda exclusive. But getting my BA in psychology." Leaning back as he is almost done with his wine, Manuel asks, "So what happened after I left the party last time. I heard a ruckus was caused by your friend. Something about a subpoena?"

Misty inclines her head and takes a sip from her water glass. "You commute between Boston and New York," she presumes at that explanation, though she simply allows him a smile at the mention of his hipster school she'd never have heard of. "It wasn't so much my friend causing the ruckus as it was the reaction of the one getting served that caused it." She shrugs, lifting her shoulders lightly. "It's part of the job, though, and it's the sort of thing you come to expect in that line of work."

"Well thankfully I am mostly done with my studies. I am doing independent studies, so I am not always up at the campus. I spend most of time in research." Gesturing to the waitress for another drink, "Though I am one to be easily distracted and procrastinate." When she explains the scene with Jumpstart, Manuel explains, "Oh I guess I can see why the recipient was upset. How do you know the server?"

"Ah. Nice to have that flexibility to study at your own pace," Misty surmises. "It happens to the best of us. Study, while enriching to the mind, is not always pleasant, so the mind seeks outlets and valves." She has another sip of water, longer this time, and says, "We travel in some of the same circles. I'm an investigator. It pays to make a lot of acquaintances in all walks of life, and it pays to treat people like people rather than like their jobs."

"You are an investigator?" Manuel's expression show surprise, "I guess that beats what I originally and foolishly implied what you were with Jon…but what were you investigating at the party?" He ponders if it is something good when the waitress brings their orders. Momentarily distracted by the aroma of the food, he smiles and returns his gaze to Misty, "Have you ever investigated anything famous or had some memorable case?"

Misty raises a brow. She's a little mollified that Manuel is admitting his implying her purpose at the party was prostitution. A little. Since he 'guesses' that beats being a prostitute. And an admission is not an apology. "I wasn't there as an investigator that night," she replies. "I was Jon's bodyguard."
"Generally, my cases are not so high profile, although there's a Latverian movie actress and her daughter coming into town in the spring. So that may bring us a little attention and publicity."

"Oh a bodyguard. Well, I know a lot of people don't like Jon, but really. I can't imagine people are out to get him." Manuelas cellphone rings as he says aloud, "Oh an actress and her kid…I wonder if I am familiar with her work." Noting the number, his mood is visibly changed. He holds out his hand, "Excuse me." He speaks into the phone and after a few minutes of listening, he audibly sighs, "I am at the Silver Crest… oh you already know. And he is on his way…alright drop him off here and I will see he is taken care of." Manuel offers an apologetic smile, "Sorry, it seems one of the younger students at my school got into some sort of…something…and I am responsible for him, so he is being brought here. I hope you donat mind."

"Not necessarily Jon himself," Misty allows, after finishing a bite of prime rib with an expression that indicates it's well worth the trip. "But his father is a dignitary, and you know politics. Always, somebody trying to get a leg up on someone else with any lever they have handy — including someone's spoiled young son." Misty's expression hardens briefly — she apparently disapproves of such practices.

"No, no, it's fine," Misty assures Manuel. "The more the merrier." The bigger the distraction for her.

"Actually, I understand totally. My father is a Spanish dignitary…" Manuel looks to the side for a moment, "Or was…he was recently killed. I believe the Spanish authorities are still looking into it." He takes a bite of the filet mignon and clearly enjoys it. "And yes, I apologize in advance for my friend. He is young and a bit…much…but he is the nicest kid and I would feel sorry for anyone who would try to hurt him."

Misty's expression is instantly sympathetic. "I'm sorry for your loss," she says with a genuine sympathy that would ring true should Manuel be using his ability to determine if it's all a facade. "Hopefully they'll find and bring the perpetrators to justice." Yes, she said 'perpetrators'. "Really, don't worry about it. Everybody goes through growing pains. It sounds like your friend is experiencing his." She shakes her head mildly as if it were nothing to be concerned over.
Alchemy enters the lounge, looking like he had just walked out of a tornado. He got a pair of new glasses, at least, but his left arm is in a sling and two fingers on his right hand are taped together. Limping slightly, he looks around, slightly bleary-eyed. The folks with him leave him at the door. "Pardon me, miss," he asks a waitress, "I'm looking for a well-dressed hispanic fellow, have you seen him perhaps?"

The waitress who the entire time has been enthralled by Empath looks towards Table #6, "Excuse me. One moment." She walks to the table and as Manuel is ready to address Misty. The waitress once again whispers to him and points to Alchemy. Visibly frowning he looks over and then blinks when he sees the state Alchemy is in, "Excuse me, Misty." He rises from the table and walks over to his friend leading him back to the table and whispering into Tom's ear, <Make no mention of your or my mutant abilities.> Once at the table, he introduces them, "Mercedes, Tom. Tom, Mercedes."

Misty offers Tom a warm smile, "Hi, Tom. Nice to meet you. I hope you gave the other guy as good as you got." She says this with complete calm, casualness. As if she commonly sees young men walking in after a major dust up.

Alchemy looks up at Manuel and lifts a brow. "Why would I do that?" he asks, then sits down and smiles to Misty. "Oh…yes, I'm afraid I'm not very good at fighting and fell down the stairs, instead. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Grinning and content with Alchemy's answers instead of his usual blatherings, he is curious as to what had happened and only heard the briefest of incidents involving the Avengers. Misty being an investigator may get inquisitive, but Manuel seems prepared for that too. Snapping his fingers, the waitress appears and takes Tomas' order. "You should eat and then I'll take you back."

Misty doesn't generally tend to poke her nose into other people's business unless being paid to. Such is not the case tonight, so she takes advantage of the brief lull to enjoy another potato. She does raise a brow at the snapping of the fingers, but does not comment. "If you're going to eat to heal, your friend
couldn't have brought you to a better place. I see now why it's so highly recommended."

Alchemy smiles, though it feels like his face is going to break apart. "Sounds lovely. perhaps you can recommend something, then. I certainly am famished. How do you two know each other?"

"I met Mercedes when I attended a party. She was my friend's escort." The waitress waits patiently for Tom to place his order as Manuel offers her an apologetic smile. "I think he would love the filet mignon." He gives her a wink and she goes without waiting for Tom.

Misty was about to recommend something, but Manuel orders for the newcomer, so she gestures to her tablemate. "It's as Manuel describes it. He was the most engaging thing about the event, to be honest. I admit, I find most such soirees tend to do the 'upscale' right, but more often than not, forget the 'fun' part of it being a party." Manuel is flashed a brilliant smile. "I haven't had an occasion to dance like that in a while."

"Well hopefully we will get to do it again. What do you say, Mercedes? I'm laying all my cards out on the table…I would love just one night of fun. It doesn't have to be tonight…it can be whenever…a year from now, if the Mayans are wrong. But do I even have a shot at the possibility of seeing you again on an actual date?" Manuel gives puppy dog eyes and in a surprise twist no use of his powers.

Alchemy blinks. "Filet Mignon…that's so expensive! I'm glad you two had a good time." he chuckles and hides behind his menu to give them 'privacy'.
"I have to be honest," Misty says, with a widening of her eyes that implies she's surprised even a little charmed by puppy dog eyes from Manuel. But what she says, with true regret, is, "My job keeps me running all over town. I'm afraid it also keeps me too busy to do any dating, even if I would love to go dancing again. If my schedule opens up to allow me greater flexibility, I'll be glad to take you up on it — how's that?"

Bowing his head, "That is great. And even though I hope you have many cases to keep you busy…I do so hope that you schedule opens up to find some time to go dancing with me." The waitress returns with Tom's order as Manuel finishes his. Ready to comment, he receives another text message and as he eyes it. His mood visibly changes, "Tom, the car will be waiting and it will take to where I have to go. I have to take care of something." He rises and bows to Misty, "I will definitely see you around." As he leaves he ruffles Tom's hair in a brotherly way, "Try not to fall down any stairs and I will hear more about what happened when I see you later ok."

Alchemy squints as his hair is ruffled, then fumbles with his silverware. "Uhh miss," he says to the waitress, "Could you have them cut this up for me, please?" he then nods at Manuel. "I'll tell you about it later. It's rather embarassing."

Misty gives Manuel a quirked half smile at the elgantly chivalrous display. "We'll see how that works out," she assures him. "You take care, and stay out of trouble." With his father dead, that may make him a target, as much as Manuel plays at not being concerned over such a thing.

The waitress blinks, then takes a quick look at the kid's injuries and nods to run it back to the kitchen without another word.

Alchemy smiles. "Do you really have to work so much or were you just trying to be polite?" he asks. "It might be fun! Also, it's not good to be working /all/ the time. Surely you have time for an evening of fun!"

"Let me put it to you this way, sugar," Misty says, mildly, ordering a dessert and a coffee. "My business partner had to twist my arm to get me to agree to /this/ much downtime. If I weren't getting over an injury of my own, I'd be working right this very minute."

The waitress is looking a little glassy-eyed and confused, now that Manuel is gone, but she is no less polite.

Alchemy lifts a brow. "Why, though? You'd be much more efficient if you were to manage your time more wisely. If you work too much, then you're prone to get sick or something. Mum always told me not to work so much and to go out with my mates now and again or my head would get so full it would pop! I imagine the same thing goes for adults. Working so hard can only lead to bad things."

Misty nods. "I imagine you have a point," she says, thoughtfully. "But the thing of it is, that there is just too much going on for me to let the grass grow under my feet, Tom. People have things that need solving. The police can't or won't help. Someone has to." Though she frowns. "Maybe, though. You could be right. I might've been off my game," she muses. "Nah."

Alchemy shrugs and tries to figure out how to use a fork without flinging it halfway across the room. "Perhaps, but you're only Human. I'm not saying you should let the grass grow under your feet, as you said, but there's no shame in taking a lunch break or a fun break now and again to refresh your batteries. Sooner or later, such a schedule will undoubtedly catch up to you."

"I'll consider your advice, doctor," Misty says, playfully. "You need a hand there?" she asks, gesturing at his fork. Her dessert hasn't come yet, and he's looking a little out to sea to her. "Besides, he's a little young for me," she adds, almost as an afterthought. To say nothing of having implied she was a whore, which still isn't sitting well despite his 'admission', which does not quite work out to 'apology'.

Alchemy chuckles. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound like I was trying to tell you what to do, I just don't like to see people overworking themselves and not having any fun at all." he finally figures out how to get the fork to function and takes a bite of his meal. "Mum ran a boarding house in London, and was always in everybody's business, trying to help out. I suppose a bit of that rubbed off on me."

"No offense taken," Misty assures him, settling back in her chair as the waitress brings the dessert. It's a really pretty sculpture made out of chocolate, that looks like a replica of Liberty Island. The statue's flame is made out of edible gold, and the 'water' around the island is creme anglaise. The 'island' itself appears to be some sort of rich, golden cake. The statue, very cold chocolate mousse. "It sounds like your mother was a caring lady, and that trait's rubbed off on you. It'll serve you well. People with good hearts in this world are few and far between."

Alchemy looks in awe at the impressive dessert sculpture, then sighs. "I suppose, but there really isn't much room for that sort of thing these days. It's getting dangerous out there. You never know who's taking advantage of you or just plain evil before it's too late."

Misty pauses after soaking a bit of cake in creme anglaise. She gives Alchemy a long, measuring look. "This is true," she agrees, meeting his eyes. "And one of the reasons I don't stop working very often. Because there are always people out to take advantage of people like you. Somebody has to look out for you guys. And since the big names are usually saving the world, the little people? Well, they got me."

Alchemy nods slowly, picking at his vegetables. "I wish there was something I could do to help people, but I'm a simple molecular biochemistry student. It's not even safe in the high schools these days. People have just gone mad."

"You're studying molecular biochemistry," Misty points out. "If the world can be patient a few more years, I expect you'll be doing a lot to help people when your studies are done." She leans back, savors a bite, and follows it with a sip of coffee. "The world's always been crazy, hon. We're just better able to see it because of all the tech out there that lets us watch each other be nuts."

Alchemy slouches a bit. "I suppose…I'm a bit concerned about my mum and sister, though. I wish they would have come over here with me, but mum wanted to keep running the boarding house. I'm taking college courses, but I'm only a second year high school student. Sophomore, I believe it's called here. It will be quite some time before I'm qualified to do any good at all, I'm afraid. What is it that you do? I'm sorry I didn't ask earlier."

Misty's sympathy is stirred by Tom's slouch, but she doesn't say anything. She has her suspicions, but he won't speak until he trusts her and not before. 'Falling down the stairs' is usually codespeak for 'someone who is supposed to love and care for me is abusing me'. "I'm a Jill of all trades," Misty replies. "Little private investigating. Little bodyguard work. Little bail bonding. Whatever is needed on any given day. It pays the bills."

Alchemy ahs. "Interesting. That must be quite rewarding work. Being a private investigator would be fun…do you get to go out and spy on people with those nifty cameras that can see in the dark?" in Tom's case, 'falling down the stairs' means 'got jacked by a giant tendril made of sand propelled by a man posessed by some enchantment.'. the former sounds a bit more believable than the latter.

"Sometimes," Misty admits, "It's a whole lot of fun. But not always. I get my butt handed to me now and again, and sometimes somebody who seemed trustworthy and upright was trying to play me. But it's honest work, and it's work that needs to be done. I've done my part to keep the streets clean of muggers and the like, so I can hold my head up even when I do make the occasional bad judgement call."

Alchemy hms. "Yes, it is always a shame when someone you thought you could trust turns on you. I keep expecting Manuel to turn on me, but that's just because I'm a bit paranoid, being a stranger in a strange land. But he hasn't done anything bad, yet."

"I thought that was an English accent I heard," Misty says, mildly. "But is it just Manuel you expect to turn on you, or everyone you meet?" She's genuinely curious; Misty has trust issues of her own, so hearing someone else with similar concerns is surprising to her as it is fascinating.

Alchemy puffs his cheeks. "Everyone, really. It's so hard to tell who to trust that sometimes it's easier to just not trust anybody. I've had so many scuffles since I got to America that I expect everyone I meet to suddenly turn into a monster and attack me."

Misty's expression goes taut for a moment. She hides it behind another sip of coffee. "You're a perceptive kid," she says after a moment to think it over. "You'll get better at knowing who to trust and who not to. But I find in my experience, even the bad folks got good in there. It's just a matter of whether it's worth the work to dig deep enough to locate it. Indiana Jones of the human condition, I am not."

Alchemy nods. "Indeed. " he looks down a moment, pondering the fact that a man that's both a friend and an enemy caused his injuries. "I could never understand why someone would want to be evil and hurt people. I guess some of the people with special powers seem to think they can just get away with that sort of behavior."

"Some of that," Misty agrees. "Some, though — not so much. I mean, look at the mutants," she says, swiping a bit more creme out of the bottom of her dish with a bite of cake. "You got your ones who just want to lead their normal lives. You got the ones who try to protect people from them, even though regular people with no mutations beyond eye color, hair color and maybe the ability to wiggle their ears are scared to death of them. And then you got the ones who think they need to rush evolution along as fast as possible and wipe out regular humans. Then you got your people who got their powers through accidents or weird science experiments. Those people may have got their powers with good intentions and the accident drove 'em off the deep end. Or they may have just become unbalanced as a result of whatever gave 'em the powers. No way to tell from lookin', so you just gotta keep your eyes open."

Alchemy sighs. "Yes, I suppose. I've just seen so many attacking innocent people that were doing nothing more than minding their own business, that it's just scary to even cross the street. There has to be some way to help the ones that have lost their minds, right? It would be the right thing to do, to help them."

"It would be," Misty agrees solemnly, smiling her thanks to the waitress as she tops off Misty's cup. Free meal or not, the girl isn't looking right, and hasn't since Manuel left. She's getting a /good/ tip. "Some of them don't believe there's anything wrong with them. Some of them have been down the wrong road so long, they have a hard time believing that the redemption road will take them." She shrugs. "So all you can do is deal with it best you can, and help the ones who will accept the help, right?"

Alchemy takes a drink and says, "I suppose…" that seems to be the phrase of the day. "It would be nice if everyone could just get along. humans, mutants…mutants are humans, right? Meta humans…I suppose unless someone is from another planet, we're all the same species, so why is there such a fuss? I'd love to be able to walk down the street without someone trying to steal my books."

"It would be," Misty agrees. "But it's been this way since time began. When Cro-Magnon man showed up and decided he was a different and better kinda human than Neanderthal. When Homo Sapiens showed up and decided he was better than Cro-Magnon. Seems like that one little tiny bit of common sense? We ain't evolved that yet." It would appear Misty is becoming more relaxed. Her manner of speech is becoming more 'local' now that she's had a lovely dessert and a good meal. "I think sometimes we're pack animals, all tryin' to be alpha." She shakes her head. "But I'd be out of a job if we all got along, as cool as that would be."

Alchemy hmms. "Maybe…but we live in a world where there are real monsters…you would think people would have the sense to work together for the survival of the people, not just try to get all the money. I could have anything I wanted, or everything I wanted, but that wouldn't do anyone any good, even me."

Misty shakes her head. "Yes, but you know how you are paranoid, and afraid there are people out there who are gonna get you?" She smiles, finishes her coffee again. "Hon, there are people like there afraid that if they get something, somebody's going to come take it from them. A lot of it is the nonsense you hear on TV. Watch the commercials. They're /designed/ to make you afraid. Afraid you won't be cool enough. Thin enough. Sexy enough. That your friends won't like you if you don't have whatever they're trying to sell you." She finally finishes the last dollop of whipped cream on that dessert. "That you think for yourself is a /great/ thing. Keep doin' it."

Alchemy nods. "Oh yes, that's why I don't watch much television, though I hear there's a BBC on cable now. Out of curiosity, do you trust Manuel? I went to a curious meeting once and there was a lot of shouting and insinuations that he isn't a stand-up fellow, but I think they were just confused by rumors."
"I have known the man for all of three hours now, Tom," Misty points out. "Bumped into him at a party, had a nice dance with him. And then he joined me this evenin'. I don't know him well, and that right there is why I wouldn't say I trust him. Not yet. For me — trust is somethin' you earn."

Alchemy ahs. "Oh…well then. You can trust me, I'd never turn on anyone, at least not under my own power. If anything ever happens that I'm not myself and I do, I apologise in advance for that."

Misty smiles brightly. The kid is so earnest. "I don't think you have it in you," she agrees, giving him a nod. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind. And if I ever see you actin' not yourself, I'll do what I can to make sure you get the help you need to goin' back to the sweeet English kid Manuel introduced me to. Sound good?"

Alchemy smiles and blushes. "Agreed. Mum would always throw her muffins at me if I was in a mood. Trust me, those muffins could dent drywall." he chuckles. "I think they were full of rum, so the fellows staying at the boarding house never complained."

Misty can't help but chuckle at that. "It's been nice meetin' you, but I better get to runnin. I know my business partner's about to check on me to make sure I actually came here and had a good dinner." As if on cue, her cellphone rings. "See?" She glances down at it, gives a shake of her head, and answers. "Hey, Col. Yeah, I'm just finishin' up now. Yes. I'm going straight home. No, no, no. Okay. No. No. I won't. Girl, don't make me smack the fool out of you over this phone." Said playfully, with a wry smile. "No. No chicken soup, no. No, you do not need to mother hen me. I'm fine. Yes. Seriously. Okay. Okay. No. Okay, bye." She thumbs the touchscreen and ends the call. "Sorry. You gonna be okay? Manuel said something about a ride waitin' for you?"

Alchemy blinks. "Oh, right!" he stands up suddenly and groans. "Ok, no sudden movements for a while. Yes, I forgot all about them! it was a pleasure to meet you. I hope we run into each other again! Have a good night and don't forget to take some time off now and again!"

Misty throws down enough to make a generous tip for the waitress. "Likewise, kid. And I'll try to take your advice long enough to light up a dance floor with your buddy Manuel again sometime soon." She hands him a business card that just reads: M. Knight and her phone number. "Give him that and he can call or text to check if I've got enough of a hole in my schedule to salsa all night long."

Alchemy nods. "I will, thank you. I'm sure he will be quite pleased!" he smiles. "Goodnight!" he shuffles out behind her to where the drivers are waiting impatiently.

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