MistyMay
Knight
- Local time
- Today 4:21 AM
- Messages
- 47
- Age
- 30
Hello All,
So I kinda spent months on this plot. Wrote a character sheet, starter and the whole shebang. My original partner had some stuff going on (you know how life happens). And they were totally great with the planning stage - they are just a law student, you know, so you so... here I am!
Yah... I'm sorry, I'm going to need to be a little picky with this sucker because I kinda went crae with this and put in a lot of work. So much I went AWOL for a while.
My Starter...
https://writerssanctum.com/threads/quid-pro-quo.12889/
So I kinda spent months on this plot. Wrote a character sheet, starter and the whole shebang. My original partner had some stuff going on (you know how life happens). And they were totally great with the planning stage - they are just a law student, you know, so you so... here I am!
Yah... I'm sorry, I'm going to need to be a little picky with this sucker because I kinda went crae with this and put in a lot of work. So much I went AWOL for a while.
Looking for...
- Literacy - To be clear I am NOT a grammar nazi! Mine isn't perfect and I don't expect yours to be either...but it's SUPER discouraging when I see basic things wrong (e.g. massive text blocks, proper names/places not being capitalized and no punctuation...
- Participation - I'm all about the long game in a story. I want to plan, brainstorm and work with my partner. I also like to know what my partner is expecting and what they don't wanna see. It helps me so much and keeps me hyped
- Post turnaround - ...Honestly, it takes me time to write. I love what I do, so when I write I'm crazy neurotic. The scene, the voice, the mood - I have a vision for it. I don't know how to just churn stuff out for the sake of it. If you give me your patience, you'll have my all. (Long/Short 1-2 weeks)
- Post Length - I write 500-750 words on average with multiple paragraphs, always more for starters (as you can see). I understand that sometimes a scene doesn't need a page and a half to get through, but I do prefer having more to work with
- Questions - Hit me up for anything, I'm chill
______________________________________
Plot...
- After intentionally throwing his last case, Julian falls into bed with his client's now ex-husband, one larger-than-life, and crazy rich man may or may not drive him crazy. Now Julian has to deal with his insane, ex-client trying to blackmail him, tabloids chasing him, and the fact that he actually has feelings - let alone feelings for a mogul.
Age: 29
Height: 5'9"
Hair: Dark Brown
Skin: Medium-Fair
Eyes: Pale green, wears glasses
Build: Lean build, in shape
Strengths: Witty, Charismatic, Dealing with Children
Weakness: Addicts, Relationships, Dogs
Weird facts:
Biography: The infamous Julian Perilla's earliest memories in a squalid one-bedroom flat with his heroin-addicted mother, Marisol. She claimed Julian's father left them when he was born, but he always figured she didn't know who his father was. Julian was always a mature child if a bit introverted. He always preferred the company of books over other children. He spent years trying to care for his mother, despite her neglect but it seemed the older he got the worse her habits became. Most of his days were spent When he turned ten, Marisol accidentally set the apartment on fire while he was at school and child services had no choice but to intervene.
Perilla spent years in the system, sent from foster home to foster home – his misanthropy growing with every move. After when graduated high school and earning a full-ride scholarship, he was officially timed out and was on his own. It was around this time that Julian learned he wasn't interested in women, but he never keeps a steady boyfriend. He breezed right through college and eventually proceeded to law school. It was there where he met Justine Baldridge, his criminal law professor and eventually his mentor.
Once Julian passed the bar exam, he was invited to work at Baldridge and Baldridge LLP, ran by Justine and her husband Ron. He takes a position as their new junior attorney, making a name for himself in and out of the courtroom… But that changes the night of the firm's Christmas party. A drunken Ron lures Julian into his office and tries to get the younger man to sleep with him. Julian reminds him that he works for his wife and turns in down flat. Instead of backing off though, pushes Julian into the desk and kisses him as Justine's secretary walks in. Naturally, word spreads fast and Ron has to the audacity to insist that Julian had seduced him.
Seething at the accusation, Julian remembers he installed a nanny cam in Ron's office during one of his cases and steals it while he's packing his things to leave the firm. After showing her proof that Ron's attacked him and was even fucking around with other men, he offers his mentor a deal: Retain Julian as her divorce attorney for 20,000 and in exchange, he'd make her husband pay, once and for all. Julian destroyed Ron so thoroughly in arbitration, the man had to give up his beamer at the courthouse. In no time at all, Julian was able to start his own practice J.P. Associates.
Julian Perilla, or JP to his "friends", quickly became the most sought-after divorce and family court lawyer in the city for the scorned elite.
Height: 5'9"
Hair: Dark Brown
Skin: Medium-Fair
Eyes: Pale green, wears glasses
Build: Lean build, in shape
Strengths: Witty, Charismatic, Dealing with Children
Weakness: Addicts, Relationships, Dogs
Weird facts:
- Loves Lele Pons
- Has a cat named Tio Tulio
- Sets ironic ringtones for clients he likes (Linda's is Act Up by City Girls...)
Biography: The infamous Julian Perilla's earliest memories in a squalid one-bedroom flat with his heroin-addicted mother, Marisol. She claimed Julian's father left them when he was born, but he always figured she didn't know who his father was. Julian was always a mature child if a bit introverted. He always preferred the company of books over other children. He spent years trying to care for his mother, despite her neglect but it seemed the older he got the worse her habits became. Most of his days were spent When he turned ten, Marisol accidentally set the apartment on fire while he was at school and child services had no choice but to intervene.
Perilla spent years in the system, sent from foster home to foster home – his misanthropy growing with every move. After when graduated high school and earning a full-ride scholarship, he was officially timed out and was on his own. It was around this time that Julian learned he wasn't interested in women, but he never keeps a steady boyfriend. He breezed right through college and eventually proceeded to law school. It was there where he met Justine Baldridge, his criminal law professor and eventually his mentor.
Once Julian passed the bar exam, he was invited to work at Baldridge and Baldridge LLP, ran by Justine and her husband Ron. He takes a position as their new junior attorney, making a name for himself in and out of the courtroom… But that changes the night of the firm's Christmas party. A drunken Ron lures Julian into his office and tries to get the younger man to sleep with him. Julian reminds him that he works for his wife and turns in down flat. Instead of backing off though, pushes Julian into the desk and kisses him as Justine's secretary walks in. Naturally, word spreads fast and Ron has to the audacity to insist that Julian had seduced him.
Seething at the accusation, Julian remembers he installed a nanny cam in Ron's office during one of his cases and steals it while he's packing his things to leave the firm. After showing her proof that Ron's attacked him and was even fucking around with other men, he offers his mentor a deal: Retain Julian as her divorce attorney for 20,000 and in exchange, he'd make her husband pay, once and for all. Julian destroyed Ron so thoroughly in arbitration, the man had to give up his beamer at the courthouse. In no time at all, Julian was able to start his own practice J.P. Associates.
Julian Perilla, or JP to his "friends", quickly became the most sought-after divorce and family court lawyer in the city for the scorned elite.
My Starter...
Perfect… Just fucking perfect. Julian winced as the screen's backlight flashed one last time before flickering out completely.
"Hijo de puta!" The sopping brunet hissed aloud, shoving his water-damaged iPhone into the pocket of his equally drenched peacoat. Of course, he would drop his cell in a street gutter just before he could summon a uber. 'Water-resistant my ass…' The bespectacled man's eyes narrowed, the frustration starting to get to him. He supposed he should be grateful the blasted thing didn't end up in a storm drain with the way it was pouring, but now he was stuck in the middle of downtown with no way of contacting anyone. Julian gave a loud, irritated sigh as he wiped the water from his glasses and counted backward from twenty. Shit day or no, it wouldn't do him any good to lose his head now. All he could do was accept that he wasn't getting home anytime soon and figure out what he was going to do in the meantime.
After taking a few breaths to collect himself, the divorce attorney decided there was little point in standing on the curb anymore. Especially since Julian was neither desperate nor drunk enough to pay $700 for a cab and get ripped off. Half of the cars out tonight weren't even proper cabs, but assholes with cars out to take advantage of the tourists and scantily clad partygoers caught in the storm. Public transportation was already a mess thanks to the construction on the subway tunnels, but this freak storm made getting home almost impossible. Buses and trains alike were delayed by two and three-hours a piece. Grasping his lapels with one hand and adjusting his hold on his briefcase, the attorney weaved briskly through the foot traffic and crowds. 'This is such bullshit,' the man mumbled to himself, searching for a decent place to wait out the rain.
Julian had a place in mind, but it was a long walk from Seacrest Avenue – about ten blocks out if memory served, so a solid forty minutes on foot... Now that he thought about it, he hasn't been in that part of town since he was still in law school. Was the place even open anymore? He couldn't be sure until he got there now that his phone was dead. After a few minutes, he decides to say fuck it and heads East towards 7th Street. The way he saw it, the best thing he could do was keep moving. Downtown wasn't exactly the safest place to get stranded in the wee hours of the night, and with the luck, Julian's been having, he'd probably end up getting mugged. If the place was still there… if he was still there, he might be able to call in a favor. And if not, he could at least get wasted enough to justify hitching a cab ride after all.
As the attorney traipsed through the wind and rain, he thought about how he ended up in this situation in the first place. It doesn't take long for him to conclude that Slater and his damned "house calls" were at least half to blame... When most people heard the name Harvey Slater, they thought of the up-and-coming novelist whose bestselling series, Forces, just got picked up by HBO. An eccentric man who has only ever done remote interviews and rarely seen around the city. But after spending five years as the man's attorney, Julian had no problem describing "Harry" as an agoraphobic, neurotic recluse and a constant pain in the ass. Harry was also a hopeless romantic and a mark, much to his counsel's dismay. Sure, the man's poor judgment kept Julian's rent paid, but these meetings at Harry's apartment across town twice a month were going to be the death of him.
Stupidity aside, Julian knew the other half of his predicament was entirely on him. Slater's affairs may be time-consuming, but it was easy money, and he couldn't afford to be picky these days. Especially after the hit he took last month with the Monroe Case. He knew that throwing Margot Monroe's divorce case would have its consequences, but his referrals have all but dried up. And after the woman was left with a measly $100,000 to show for her marriage to the illustrious Heathcliff Shepard Monroe, he was sure the bitch was bad-mouthing Julian to anyone that would hear her. And to top it off, the gold-digging tramp refused to pay him any of his attorney's fees.
The brunet wanted to say he regretted burning her, if only for his suffering bottom line, but it served the bitch right for pulling what she had while he was representing her. Julian may have a reputation for being cutthroat in the courtroom, but he's never perjured himself nor has he ever fabricated evidence to win a case. Pride aside, he didn't think the bribes and chump change were worth the very real chance that he might be disbarred… And even if he didn't, he couldn't see himself stooping as low as she was ready to go for a payout. He knew he could have just ignored her wishes and still won the case, but something about the woman just rubbed him the wrong way. Oh well… with any luck, the dust will settle and the buzz around the Monroe's divorce will fade so he can get back to what he does best. But until then, Julian would just have to sit tight and avoid any "unnecessary" travel expenses.
Less than an hour later, the brunet let out a sigh of relief as he came upon Costner and 7th. A popular spot for city natives, Costner Heights has strong ties with the LGBT community. After many years of renovations and anti-drug initiatives in the eighties, it is home to many of the city's popular gay clubs and bars. Julian navigated the streets with practiced ease until he came upon a brownstone with an unassertive, red neon sign that read "OPEN" with an arrow pointing to the right. Julian wasted no time ducking into the alley and making his way to the covered side entrance. A black and gold sign hung above the lacquered door, reading: "Three Bars Blues". He walked to the top of the stairs to the door, letting go of his lapels so he could let himself in, the low hum of music sounding just beyond the door.
'Yep, still open – thank god.' He thought with a grateful sigh.
Behind the surprisingly heavy reinforced door, was what Julian could only describe as a modern-day speakeasy and loft. The room was decorated in rich blues and reds, gold and wood. The main bar on the ground level spanned over a third of the length of the wall from the left. Hand-carved motifs adorned the mahogany woodwork and mirrored shelveS. Following the length of the bar, Julian's eyes were carried to the stage in the far wall to the back of the club. There a live Jazz ensemble played for a handful of guests, mostly older couples with a few single enthusiasts peppered about the crowd, enjoying what Julian remembered to be John Coltrane's Equinox.
Julian was so caught up with reminiscing, he almost forgot he was dripping wet. He'd leave a nice puddle for someone to slip on if he didn't move soon... A chill made its way up and down his spine at that moment, his body reminding him that he's spent over an hour in the rain and was none too pleased about it. Making his way towards the far corner of the bar, Julian took a seat well away from the other patrons. Setting his briefcase down on the floor, he removes his glasses and places them on the bar, revealing a pair of pale green eyes. Eyes that quickly got the attention of one of the younger bartenders manning the station – a stylish, twenty-something year old named Jay, if his name tag was to be believed.
"¿Cuál quieres, Lindo?" The barkeep asks with a cheeky grin, honey brown eyes twinkling as he started working the brunet, pointing out the small coat hook on the wall beside them.
"Disculpe, señor. Dos dedos de whisky, sin hielo, por favor." Julian orders politely, nodding his thanks as he shrugs off his drenched coat. He sighs through his nose as he realizes the rain-soaked through to his white button-down. Thank God he's wearing a suit vest, or he'd have the added embarrassment of his nipples poking through his practically see-through shirt… "Y una toalla, si su tiene..." Julian added quickly.
"Lo tienes, mi amor." The barkeep answered with a wink, only to be disappointed when he received no reaction from the older man. With quick reach under the bar, Jay pulled out a few small, clean towels for Julian to use before finally preparing the man's drink. "What, no smile for me, babe?"
"Sorry, papi, you're a bit young for my tastes," Julian says coolly, drying his face and glasses before putting them back on. Now that he could see properly, he reached into his damp pants pocket and pulled out his wallet and passing the bartender his credit card. "Is Hector here tonight?" He can't resist rolling his eyes as the young man started to sulk.
Julian didn't usually mind people flirting with him. On any other night, he might have even flirted back and teased him a little. But he's been on the clock for almost twelve hours and in the rain for the better part of two. His once perfectly gelled and styled chocolate brown locks were now falling around him in wet curls, some sticking to his forehead. And Julian's clothes were clinging to him like a second skin and probably ruined. So frankly, if Julian was to go through the trouble of entertaining anyone tonight, it wasn't going to be an overly eager, inexperienced kid. He just wasn't in the mode to coach anyone in bed tonight. Not with the mood he's in...
"Way to break my heart. I'm not that young, you know…" Jay protested weakly, poking his lip out like a puppy. But Julian only had to quirk one perfectly shaped eyebrow at the other man, as if asking him if he wanted to try that again, to get him to relent. The man couldn't fight the little blush creeping up his cheeks, his bravado faltering at the older man's blunt rejection. "I don't know anyone named Hector, but I am new around here. If you want, I can ask my manager for you, once she's off the phone." Jay explained, gesturing to the other end of the pub. There was a beautiful redhead with a bob-cut, sitting at the far corner of one of the tables near the stage. She wore a crisp button shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows with fresh-pressed trousers, complete with suspenders and high heels. And if the way Linda was growling into the receiver was anything to go by, she was putting the fear of God into the poor soul on the other side. "But she's kind of chewing out our no-show waiter now, so it might be a minute..."
"I'm in no rush. If he asks, just tell him Perilla's here." Julian agrees, taking a long sip of his whiskey, savoring the smooth burn as it went down while Jay ran his card through the machine.
"So, this Hector guy your old man or something?" The other man asks, hoping for Julian to answer in the negative. God, the poor kid looks like a dejected puppy...
"In a sense. Keep the tab open, please." The lawyer doesn't elaborate as he continues to work on his drink. It's better to kill any attraction Jay has for him now.
"Lucky guy…" He replies with a pinched face before letting out a sigh of resignation. "I take it you don't come to this part of town often?" Jay observed.
"Not for a long time, no. Work keeps me busy." He answered truthfully, though he was careful not to advertise his occupation. The brunet tended to avoid places like this after he opened his practice and his name became easier to recognize. He seldom had the time between cases to hit up clubs, anyway. And even if he had, it wasn't like he had anyone to go with. Sure, he could have easily gone by himself, but he didn't really see the need to unless he was looking to fuck around. "Besides, I've never been as 'loud and proud' as Hector. Just being proud suits me fine."
Jay nods as if accepting his answer before preparing a cranberry and vodka and throwing a bar towel over his shoulder. "Let me see about that friend of yours. Can I top you off before I go?" He asks, his expression amicable rather than amorous.
"Por favor." Julian nods an affirmative. "Muchas gracias, Jay."
"Del mismo modo, patron. I'll try to be back soon." And with that, the barkeep happily poured him a second glass before hurrying off to the table Linda was sitting at. Smart kid, preparing a drink for Linda before going over to her. Hot-headed as she is, it's hard for the ginger to get mad when being presented with her favorite drink.
Meanwhile, the discomfort of being in wet clothes finally gets to the attorney. Julian tries to discreetly remove his tie, worrying his pinkening lips with effort. It wouldn't be so difficult a task if his hands weren't still sore from clutching his coat and briefcase in the rain. Dammit, wet clothes are so gross... He couldn't stand the way the fabric was clinging to his neck. After a few moments of failed fumbling, and outright fussing, he gives up loosening the tie with a huff. Julian decides to dry off his hair instead, trying to think of a way to remove the expensive tie without cutting the damn thing off.
All the while, Julian was oblivious to the other occupants on the other side of the bar. Julian was so engrossed with drying himself off, he didn't notice that the ensemble had paused to take a request and had started playing his favorite, Blue In Green by Miles Davis.
"Hijo de puta!" The sopping brunet hissed aloud, shoving his water-damaged iPhone into the pocket of his equally drenched peacoat. Of course, he would drop his cell in a street gutter just before he could summon a uber. 'Water-resistant my ass…' The bespectacled man's eyes narrowed, the frustration starting to get to him. He supposed he should be grateful the blasted thing didn't end up in a storm drain with the way it was pouring, but now he was stuck in the middle of downtown with no way of contacting anyone. Julian gave a loud, irritated sigh as he wiped the water from his glasses and counted backward from twenty. Shit day or no, it wouldn't do him any good to lose his head now. All he could do was accept that he wasn't getting home anytime soon and figure out what he was going to do in the meantime.
After taking a few breaths to collect himself, the divorce attorney decided there was little point in standing on the curb anymore. Especially since Julian was neither desperate nor drunk enough to pay $700 for a cab and get ripped off. Half of the cars out tonight weren't even proper cabs, but assholes with cars out to take advantage of the tourists and scantily clad partygoers caught in the storm. Public transportation was already a mess thanks to the construction on the subway tunnels, but this freak storm made getting home almost impossible. Buses and trains alike were delayed by two and three-hours a piece. Grasping his lapels with one hand and adjusting his hold on his briefcase, the attorney weaved briskly through the foot traffic and crowds. 'This is such bullshit,' the man mumbled to himself, searching for a decent place to wait out the rain.
Julian had a place in mind, but it was a long walk from Seacrest Avenue – about ten blocks out if memory served, so a solid forty minutes on foot... Now that he thought about it, he hasn't been in that part of town since he was still in law school. Was the place even open anymore? He couldn't be sure until he got there now that his phone was dead. After a few minutes, he decides to say fuck it and heads East towards 7th Street. The way he saw it, the best thing he could do was keep moving. Downtown wasn't exactly the safest place to get stranded in the wee hours of the night, and with the luck, Julian's been having, he'd probably end up getting mugged. If the place was still there… if he was still there, he might be able to call in a favor. And if not, he could at least get wasted enough to justify hitching a cab ride after all.
As the attorney traipsed through the wind and rain, he thought about how he ended up in this situation in the first place. It doesn't take long for him to conclude that Slater and his damned "house calls" were at least half to blame... When most people heard the name Harvey Slater, they thought of the up-and-coming novelist whose bestselling series, Forces, just got picked up by HBO. An eccentric man who has only ever done remote interviews and rarely seen around the city. But after spending five years as the man's attorney, Julian had no problem describing "Harry" as an agoraphobic, neurotic recluse and a constant pain in the ass. Harry was also a hopeless romantic and a mark, much to his counsel's dismay. Sure, the man's poor judgment kept Julian's rent paid, but these meetings at Harry's apartment across town twice a month were going to be the death of him.
Stupidity aside, Julian knew the other half of his predicament was entirely on him. Slater's affairs may be time-consuming, but it was easy money, and he couldn't afford to be picky these days. Especially after the hit he took last month with the Monroe Case. He knew that throwing Margot Monroe's divorce case would have its consequences, but his referrals have all but dried up. And after the woman was left with a measly $100,000 to show for her marriage to the illustrious Heathcliff Shepard Monroe, he was sure the bitch was bad-mouthing Julian to anyone that would hear her. And to top it off, the gold-digging tramp refused to pay him any of his attorney's fees.
The brunet wanted to say he regretted burning her, if only for his suffering bottom line, but it served the bitch right for pulling what she had while he was representing her. Julian may have a reputation for being cutthroat in the courtroom, but he's never perjured himself nor has he ever fabricated evidence to win a case. Pride aside, he didn't think the bribes and chump change were worth the very real chance that he might be disbarred… And even if he didn't, he couldn't see himself stooping as low as she was ready to go for a payout. He knew he could have just ignored her wishes and still won the case, but something about the woman just rubbed him the wrong way. Oh well… with any luck, the dust will settle and the buzz around the Monroe's divorce will fade so he can get back to what he does best. But until then, Julian would just have to sit tight and avoid any "unnecessary" travel expenses.
Less than an hour later, the brunet let out a sigh of relief as he came upon Costner and 7th. A popular spot for city natives, Costner Heights has strong ties with the LGBT community. After many years of renovations and anti-drug initiatives in the eighties, it is home to many of the city's popular gay clubs and bars. Julian navigated the streets with practiced ease until he came upon a brownstone with an unassertive, red neon sign that read "OPEN" with an arrow pointing to the right. Julian wasted no time ducking into the alley and making his way to the covered side entrance. A black and gold sign hung above the lacquered door, reading: "Three Bars Blues". He walked to the top of the stairs to the door, letting go of his lapels so he could let himself in, the low hum of music sounding just beyond the door.
'Yep, still open – thank god.' He thought with a grateful sigh.
Behind the surprisingly heavy reinforced door, was what Julian could only describe as a modern-day speakeasy and loft. The room was decorated in rich blues and reds, gold and wood. The main bar on the ground level spanned over a third of the length of the wall from the left. Hand-carved motifs adorned the mahogany woodwork and mirrored shelveS. Following the length of the bar, Julian's eyes were carried to the stage in the far wall to the back of the club. There a live Jazz ensemble played for a handful of guests, mostly older couples with a few single enthusiasts peppered about the crowd, enjoying what Julian remembered to be John Coltrane's Equinox.
Julian was so caught up with reminiscing, he almost forgot he was dripping wet. He'd leave a nice puddle for someone to slip on if he didn't move soon... A chill made its way up and down his spine at that moment, his body reminding him that he's spent over an hour in the rain and was none too pleased about it. Making his way towards the far corner of the bar, Julian took a seat well away from the other patrons. Setting his briefcase down on the floor, he removes his glasses and places them on the bar, revealing a pair of pale green eyes. Eyes that quickly got the attention of one of the younger bartenders manning the station – a stylish, twenty-something year old named Jay, if his name tag was to be believed.
"¿Cuál quieres, Lindo?" The barkeep asks with a cheeky grin, honey brown eyes twinkling as he started working the brunet, pointing out the small coat hook on the wall beside them.
"Disculpe, señor. Dos dedos de whisky, sin hielo, por favor." Julian orders politely, nodding his thanks as he shrugs off his drenched coat. He sighs through his nose as he realizes the rain-soaked through to his white button-down. Thank God he's wearing a suit vest, or he'd have the added embarrassment of his nipples poking through his practically see-through shirt… "Y una toalla, si su tiene..." Julian added quickly.
"Lo tienes, mi amor." The barkeep answered with a wink, only to be disappointed when he received no reaction from the older man. With quick reach under the bar, Jay pulled out a few small, clean towels for Julian to use before finally preparing the man's drink. "What, no smile for me, babe?"
"Sorry, papi, you're a bit young for my tastes," Julian says coolly, drying his face and glasses before putting them back on. Now that he could see properly, he reached into his damp pants pocket and pulled out his wallet and passing the bartender his credit card. "Is Hector here tonight?" He can't resist rolling his eyes as the young man started to sulk.
Julian didn't usually mind people flirting with him. On any other night, he might have even flirted back and teased him a little. But he's been on the clock for almost twelve hours and in the rain for the better part of two. His once perfectly gelled and styled chocolate brown locks were now falling around him in wet curls, some sticking to his forehead. And Julian's clothes were clinging to him like a second skin and probably ruined. So frankly, if Julian was to go through the trouble of entertaining anyone tonight, it wasn't going to be an overly eager, inexperienced kid. He just wasn't in the mode to coach anyone in bed tonight. Not with the mood he's in...
"Way to break my heart. I'm not that young, you know…" Jay protested weakly, poking his lip out like a puppy. But Julian only had to quirk one perfectly shaped eyebrow at the other man, as if asking him if he wanted to try that again, to get him to relent. The man couldn't fight the little blush creeping up his cheeks, his bravado faltering at the older man's blunt rejection. "I don't know anyone named Hector, but I am new around here. If you want, I can ask my manager for you, once she's off the phone." Jay explained, gesturing to the other end of the pub. There was a beautiful redhead with a bob-cut, sitting at the far corner of one of the tables near the stage. She wore a crisp button shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows with fresh-pressed trousers, complete with suspenders and high heels. And if the way Linda was growling into the receiver was anything to go by, she was putting the fear of God into the poor soul on the other side. "But she's kind of chewing out our no-show waiter now, so it might be a minute..."
"I'm in no rush. If he asks, just tell him Perilla's here." Julian agrees, taking a long sip of his whiskey, savoring the smooth burn as it went down while Jay ran his card through the machine.
"So, this Hector guy your old man or something?" The other man asks, hoping for Julian to answer in the negative. God, the poor kid looks like a dejected puppy...
"In a sense. Keep the tab open, please." The lawyer doesn't elaborate as he continues to work on his drink. It's better to kill any attraction Jay has for him now.
"Lucky guy…" He replies with a pinched face before letting out a sigh of resignation. "I take it you don't come to this part of town often?" Jay observed.
"Not for a long time, no. Work keeps me busy." He answered truthfully, though he was careful not to advertise his occupation. The brunet tended to avoid places like this after he opened his practice and his name became easier to recognize. He seldom had the time between cases to hit up clubs, anyway. And even if he had, it wasn't like he had anyone to go with. Sure, he could have easily gone by himself, but he didn't really see the need to unless he was looking to fuck around. "Besides, I've never been as 'loud and proud' as Hector. Just being proud suits me fine."
Jay nods as if accepting his answer before preparing a cranberry and vodka and throwing a bar towel over his shoulder. "Let me see about that friend of yours. Can I top you off before I go?" He asks, his expression amicable rather than amorous.
"Por favor." Julian nods an affirmative. "Muchas gracias, Jay."
"Del mismo modo, patron. I'll try to be back soon." And with that, the barkeep happily poured him a second glass before hurrying off to the table Linda was sitting at. Smart kid, preparing a drink for Linda before going over to her. Hot-headed as she is, it's hard for the ginger to get mad when being presented with her favorite drink.
Meanwhile, the discomfort of being in wet clothes finally gets to the attorney. Julian tries to discreetly remove his tie, worrying his pinkening lips with effort. It wouldn't be so difficult a task if his hands weren't still sore from clutching his coat and briefcase in the rain. Dammit, wet clothes are so gross... He couldn't stand the way the fabric was clinging to his neck. After a few moments of failed fumbling, and outright fussing, he gives up loosening the tie with a huff. Julian decides to dry off his hair instead, trying to think of a way to remove the expensive tie without cutting the damn thing off.
All the while, Julian was oblivious to the other occupants on the other side of the bar. Julian was so engrossed with drying himself off, he didn't notice that the ensemble had paused to take a request and had started playing his favorite, Blue In Green by Miles Davis.
Original Thread...
https://writerssanctum.com/threads/quid-pro-quo.12889/
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