The bar was quiet for a Friday night in New York City. Maybe if it hadn't been down in some out of the way, hole in the wall, it would have attracted customers. Since it was, the only people who went there were people who liked peace and anonymity and were willing to pay for it.
Valentina Ash liked it because there was less likelihood of being stabbed, shot at or otherwise murdered. It was too inconvenient to be bothered with stuff like that. She sipped her drink and looked toward the doorway, waiting for her meeting to happen.
As soon as IC Rowley entered the bar, she dominated the room. While her impeccable appearance in a tailored business suit should look out of place, it seemed more like she owned the place. She let the door close behind her and scanned the room looking for her contact.
After receiving numerous death threats, IC had decided she needed protection. And since she didn't know which part of her life this threat was coming from, she thought it prudent to not involve the police quite yet.
No wonder the woman was at risk, she stood out like a nudist in Amish country. Valentina skimmed the crowd, watching faces for their reactions. Envy, dislike, curiosity, hostility. No one looked murderous. Yet.
She slipped off her stool and nodded at the woman to get her attention.
IC's green gaze slid across the woman who'd just stood from her stool at the bar, and disissed her immediately as the contact she was looking for. She looked too...delicate...pretty. Where was this guy then? Valentine Ash... With a touch of irritation marring IC's smooth, yet cold features, she strode up to the bar. "Scotch," she more demanded than ordered. Her voice was crisp, cool, like a glacier breeze.
Luckily Valentina wasn't that easily offended. "Ms Rowley?" Her accent could been from just about anywhere. It was faded European topped with a veneer of New York. She could loose the American any time she wanted. It was prudent to blend in here, for now.
"And you are?" IC's obvious British accent sounded elegant and refined, though with its arctic cold it was easily interpreted as snobbish or arrogant. The way her cool green eyes managed to look down even on taller people along a fine aristocratic nose just emphasised that impression.
"Valentina Ash." The dark haired woman held out her card. "Those are my prices. They aren't negotiable, unless you want to pay more." They were high already, but she was the best at what she did.
One fine eyebrow arched up as IC took the card and turned it in her long fingers. "I did not expect a woman," she admitted. She looked down at the card, and the other eyebrow arched as well as she inclined her head briefly. "At those prices I would certainly expect first class service." And it was clear from her tone and non-expression that she did not expect as such from this woman.
"Women are less conspicuous than a huge man in a black suit," Valentina replied. "And much less cliche. So- we have a deal?"
She was certainly good at talking. But so was IC - when she was paid for it. And it looked like IC was going to pay a handsome sum for this woman's services. She gave her a curt nod. "And you will do well to hold up your end of it, Ms Ash. Dead people cannot pay - and you are not included in my will."
Valentina snorted. "That's why I insist on payment in advance, but if you die, it'll only be because I'm already dead."
"Don't delude yourself," IC sarcastically imitated the woman's derisive snort. "One week's worth in advance. At most. To cover expenses for preparation etc. You will receive payment for every day of completed detail at midnight into an account of your choice. Sorry, I do not write cheques and I do not handle cash. But no worries, it is also in _my_ best interest for this to be untraceable."
"Fine. Just so you know, I've started already." She'd started before the other woman had walked into the bar.
Once again, a finely arched eyebrow rose. "Is that so," IC stated coolly. "I assume this means you demand your advance - right now?" It wasn't a question, really.
"Of course." Valentina's head jerk to the side slightly. "How long are you planning to stick around here?"
"Just long enough to initiate a funds transfer and to finish my scotch," IC replied, "not a moment longer." There was a touch of disgust in her tone. "Your account information?"
"Check your phone." Valentina nodded toward to woman's purse. "Then I'll tell you how to make sure people don't get your private number."
IC nodded, noting the new message on her mobile. She was pleasantly surprised the woman had managed to get around her security - she would have expected as much from the caliber of professional she had been looking for, though certainly not from this woman. Maybe she really wasn't so bad after all. Quickly IC set up the transfer, secure and untraceable, then placed her phone back into her purse. "You are richer than you think," IC stated casually and sipped her scotch. It wasn't exactly up to her standard, but at least it wasn't the cheapest on the shelves either. "Now what?"
"Now I follow you everywhere you go and watch for possible risks to you," Valentina replied. "Most of the time, you won't notice me. If I tell you to leave, hurry, duck, or whatever, you obey immediately, because it'll save your life. Hesitate or be too proud and you'll be dead." And Valentina would be on to the next job.
IC just nodded. She'd had a security detail before, though that had been at a time when the best bodyguards in the world were not able to protect the president even though they followed him everywhere - and probably long before this girl was even born...
"Alright," IC said after finishing her scotch. She grabbed her purse and stepped back from the bar. "I have to meet a client at my office before I can go home. Emergency meeting. New client. _Nervous_ new client." With that she turned and purposefully strode out of the bar.
Valentina watched who watched her leave, taking in two men across the other side of the room. She committed their current faces to memory and followed the woman out the door.
Mirren H - Valentina Ash
Myr S - IC Rowley
Valentina Ash liked it because there was less likelihood of being stabbed, shot at or otherwise murdered. It was too inconvenient to be bothered with stuff like that. She sipped her drink and looked toward the doorway, waiting for her meeting to happen.
As soon as IC Rowley entered the bar, she dominated the room. While her impeccable appearance in a tailored business suit should look out of place, it seemed more like she owned the place. She let the door close behind her and scanned the room looking for her contact.
After receiving numerous death threats, IC had decided she needed protection. And since she didn't know which part of her life this threat was coming from, she thought it prudent to not involve the police quite yet.
No wonder the woman was at risk, she stood out like a nudist in Amish country. Valentina skimmed the crowd, watching faces for their reactions. Envy, dislike, curiosity, hostility. No one looked murderous. Yet.
She slipped off her stool and nodded at the woman to get her attention.
IC's green gaze slid across the woman who'd just stood from her stool at the bar, and disissed her immediately as the contact she was looking for. She looked too...delicate...pretty. Where was this guy then? Valentine Ash... With a touch of irritation marring IC's smooth, yet cold features, she strode up to the bar. "Scotch," she more demanded than ordered. Her voice was crisp, cool, like a glacier breeze.
Luckily Valentina wasn't that easily offended. "Ms Rowley?" Her accent could been from just about anywhere. It was faded European topped with a veneer of New York. She could loose the American any time she wanted. It was prudent to blend in here, for now.
"And you are?" IC's obvious British accent sounded elegant and refined, though with its arctic cold it was easily interpreted as snobbish or arrogant. The way her cool green eyes managed to look down even on taller people along a fine aristocratic nose just emphasised that impression.
"Valentina Ash." The dark haired woman held out her card. "Those are my prices. They aren't negotiable, unless you want to pay more." They were high already, but she was the best at what she did.
One fine eyebrow arched up as IC took the card and turned it in her long fingers. "I did not expect a woman," she admitted. She looked down at the card, and the other eyebrow arched as well as she inclined her head briefly. "At those prices I would certainly expect first class service." And it was clear from her tone and non-expression that she did not expect as such from this woman.
"Women are less conspicuous than a huge man in a black suit," Valentina replied. "And much less cliche. So- we have a deal?"
She was certainly good at talking. But so was IC - when she was paid for it. And it looked like IC was going to pay a handsome sum for this woman's services. She gave her a curt nod. "And you will do well to hold up your end of it, Ms Ash. Dead people cannot pay - and you are not included in my will."
Valentina snorted. "That's why I insist on payment in advance, but if you die, it'll only be because I'm already dead."
"Don't delude yourself," IC sarcastically imitated the woman's derisive snort. "One week's worth in advance. At most. To cover expenses for preparation etc. You will receive payment for every day of completed detail at midnight into an account of your choice. Sorry, I do not write cheques and I do not handle cash. But no worries, it is also in _my_ best interest for this to be untraceable."
"Fine. Just so you know, I've started already." She'd started before the other woman had walked into the bar.
Once again, a finely arched eyebrow rose. "Is that so," IC stated coolly. "I assume this means you demand your advance - right now?" It wasn't a question, really.
"Of course." Valentina's head jerk to the side slightly. "How long are you planning to stick around here?"
"Just long enough to initiate a funds transfer and to finish my scotch," IC replied, "not a moment longer." There was a touch of disgust in her tone. "Your account information?"
"Check your phone." Valentina nodded toward to woman's purse. "Then I'll tell you how to make sure people don't get your private number."
IC nodded, noting the new message on her mobile. She was pleasantly surprised the woman had managed to get around her security - she would have expected as much from the caliber of professional she had been looking for, though certainly not from this woman. Maybe she really wasn't so bad after all. Quickly IC set up the transfer, secure and untraceable, then placed her phone back into her purse. "You are richer than you think," IC stated casually and sipped her scotch. It wasn't exactly up to her standard, but at least it wasn't the cheapest on the shelves either. "Now what?"
"Now I follow you everywhere you go and watch for possible risks to you," Valentina replied. "Most of the time, you won't notice me. If I tell you to leave, hurry, duck, or whatever, you obey immediately, because it'll save your life. Hesitate or be too proud and you'll be dead." And Valentina would be on to the next job.
IC just nodded. She'd had a security detail before, though that had been at a time when the best bodyguards in the world were not able to protect the president even though they followed him everywhere - and probably long before this girl was even born...
"Alright," IC said after finishing her scotch. She grabbed her purse and stepped back from the bar. "I have to meet a client at my office before I can go home. Emergency meeting. New client. _Nervous_ new client." With that she turned and purposefully strode out of the bar.
Valentina watched who watched her leave, taking in two men across the other side of the room. She committed their current faces to memory and followed the woman out the door.
Mirren H - Valentina Ash
Myr S - IC Rowley
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