of wine and books, tag: open

24 May 2012
6:30pm

Stepping into The Three Lions the first thing Emma did was scan the crowd inside. It was still early, so there weren’t a lot of people in the pub, and unfortunately, no one Emma recognised which was a shame she could have done with some company this evening. One shoulder rose slightly before dropping quickly as if shrugging off her thoughts as her heels clicked on the floor with ever step she took towards to bar, shifting the attention of a number of men in the room off the beers in their hands and onto her. Click. Click. Click. Reaching the bar, Emma sat on one of the stools crossing one long leg over the other and ordered a large glass of red wine.

She’d been looking forward to this all day, although originally she’d planned to have the wine at home, in a nice hot bubble bath, have Adele or Regina Spektor or Damien Rice on in the background as she read the book currently resting in her bag, but after the day she’d had, Emma just wanted to be around people, even if she wasn’t necessarily interacting with them, but they were there and that was the important thing. Feeling someone staring at her, the brunette turned to see a much older man, nursing a pint.

Hmm... Maybe she should have just gone with the bath after all.

Sipping the wine, Emma reached into the bag resting on the bar beside her and took out ‘The Interpretation of Murder’ her little heart sinking at the lack of bookmark. Yep, there it was, resting happily in the bottom of her bag, perfect... What chapter was she on again? This was just the type of thing to happen on a day like today. It hadn’t been particularly gruelling, as was possible in her line of work as a Medical Examiner, she hadn’t had to perform any difficult autopsies. No, today was paperwork day. And it was so boring!

She had been stuck, trapped in her little office all day, signing various papers, filling out various forms, typing up various transcripts of her autopsies. And what made it worse, there was more she had to do, more paperwork in her bag she’d actually bought home to finish off, before her brother came tomorrow for her wedding the day after. Yep, she’d got the letter a few days before telling her she was getting married to ‘Nicholas Harrington’ on 26 May, so her brother was flying over from the UK to be with her- the only member of her family to do so. “ah ha,” she muttered to herself finding the page, before quickly becoming engrossed in the story.

Freud and murder, what’s not to love?

Charlotte was new enough to town to know that she ought to go and mingle, to blend in. She had been for about a couple of weeks, and through that time, she had kept to herself, but there was only so long before that ended up becoming suspicious, and suspicious was the last thing that she wanted. She didn't want to draw too much attention to herself, nor did she want to be invisible - any extreme would be a negative factor, and she put careful thought into each and every move that she made. If she was a loner, that would stand out, if she was a "woo" girl, that would stand out - she had to be nice, polite, but somewhat forgettable...at least most of the time.

She dressed to go out, to a bar, just for a drink. She wanted to make sure that she looked halfway decent, but not slutty, and she felt she had done just that with the outfit chosen. The high heels were the exception to the rule, but she always wore shoes like that - high. Sky high. They gave her confidence, and in her "profession" that was something that she really needed to work on. She left the house, a smile on her face. This was a new day, a new town and a new con. Sure, she was going to have to wait awhile to find out who the target was, but she had to have something going for her before then, a friend or two, perhaps, to make her seem, well, anything but heartless, and then she would become who he needed her to be until she could get what she wanted.

The Three Crowns seemed like the perfect place for her to start out, so in she went, taking a seat at the bar next to a very, very well dressed woman. "House chardonnay, please," she stated, looking at the bartender. A decent drink, but still fairly forgettable, average, nothing that would get anyone in the town talking. She waited for her wine to arrive, looking around to check out the scene. In all honesty, the woman next to her looked like the best prospect, at this time of day, so she turned to her. "Interesting read?" she asked casually, taking a sip from her wine as she did so. Making friends was imperative to fitting in, and even though 90% of what she told this woman would be lies, they could create a fabricated friendship from that easily - after all, that was one of Charlotte's strong suits.

Quickly finding herself engrossed in the novel, Emma barely registered when the woman sat next to her, merely shooting a quick glance up at the new arrival, and giving the stranger a polite smile before going back the book in her hands, and turning the page, she wasn’t too far from the end and, her work load permitting, she should be finished in the next couple of days-and it didn’t appear to be going anywhere near what she had been thinking. After scanning the words a little longer, she could hear the woman speaking, although it took a few seconds before she realised she was talking to her.

Crap, really should have been listening better. What did she ask? Something about a good read? Oh! The book, of course it was the book- natural talking point; “yeah, yeah it’s not bad,” Emma answered, turning to face the woman a little better, her gaze scanning her quickly, subtly, she was dressed much more casually than herself, but to be honest, if she hadn’t just been at work, Emma would have been dressed in a similar fashion,

But oh god, those shoes- although not the girliest of girls, Emma Banwell did have a bit of a weakness for nice shoes. “Oh, I love your shoes,” the brunette gushed placing the bar on the bar, tucking her hair behind her ear and out of the way, to get a better look at the footwear. They were gorgeous, a little too high for her though unfortunately, naturally tall, Emma had to sometimes be careful the size of her heel. Although it could be empowering- and a little amusing being taller than some of the men at work (especially one or two of the cops she’d had to work with- she always wore the biggest heels she could find if to do little more than emasculate them a little) there were times she just felt a little more... feminine, around taller men.

“I’m Emma,” she introduced, yeah the stranger hadn’t asked, but hey, she opened the doors for conversation, and Emma had been on her own all day. Actually looking at the woman’s face instead of her feet, Em noted that she wasn’t familiar at all, she didn’t think she’d even noticed the woman around the town in the past few years Emma had lived in Evergreen, granted she wasn’t the most popular or women, but she liked the think she was okay with faces.

Charlotte smiled as the woman replied, though she seemed to be flustered by Charlotte’s words, which had not been the intention at all. She had been aiming to make a friend, or at least an amiable acquaintance, not scare some poor woman into spilling her wine…though she was glad that that had not happened. “I haven’t read a book in far too long.” She took another sip of her wine, the chatting coming far too easily to her. Maybe she didn’t care what this woman was reading, or even who she was, but she was going to pretend to, and she was damn well going to do a good job of it. In Charlotte’s real like of work, not her work at the bakery, of course, there was no half assing anything, not if you wanted people to believe what you were telling them, really, what you were selling them, since the endgame was always a payout. “Been looking for something to pick up. Now that I’m all settled in, I have some time.” In that statement, she told this woman two things – one that she was new here, and two, that she was interested in a book recommendation, and while the first might be true, the second was placed intentionally to make headway in a friendship.

Another smile graced her lips as the woman mentioned her shoes. Charlotte loved to wear high shoes, they gave her the confidence she needed in her line of work, and a lot of people commented on them, but it was always nice to hear. “Thank you.” She looked down as if to double check the shoes that she was wearing, but she knew exactly what she had on. Everything that she wore, everything that she did was planned out for a specific result, and the looking down was planned out to make it seem casual, as though she hadn’t really been paying attention when she had chosen what to wear today, even though great amounts of thought had gone into it. Everything had a purpose and a use in her world, right down to the shoes on her feet and the way she did her hair. Nothing was left up to chance. “I got them on sale, actually, just before I moved here – it was a great deal. I have such a weakness for high heels, especially booties, but what can I say? Sometimes it’s nice to be taller than menfolk.” That comment was aimed to bond them as women, give them something in common, put them on the same team.

“Your necklace, by the way, is gorgeous.” Take compliments, but also give them, though never on the same thing. Emma had complimented her shoes, and if Charlotte were to them compliment Emma’s, it would seem like nothing more than reciprocation, and that would look sleazy and lame. Besides, she had a lot of feathery jewelry, including the earrings that she was wearing now, so it was a believable compliment anyways. “I have something of a love affair with feather jewelry,” she explained, shrugging her shoulders. All of this, chatting, talking to strangers, it was so easy for her to just slip into a role and play it until she didn’t have to anymore. Charlotte Kelly was a friendly, kind person, it was Maria Adler, her real name, that people had to watch out for. Charlotte was just an alias, a well crafted and well backed one, with a fully developed personality and documentation, yes, but still, an alias.

“It’s nice to meet you Emma, I’m Charlotte.” She reached out to shake the other woman’s hand, grazing her own wine glass intentionally, letting a small amount spill before she steadied it with her free hand. “God, I’m so clumsy.” She rolled her eyes, adding another smile – that action right there made her awkward and human, so even if she looked a million bucks the next time Emma saw her, the woman would know that she was definitely down to earth, awkward and clumsy like everyone else, even if she could hold her own in 3, 4 and 5 inch heels. “I’m new to town, how long have you been here?” Turning the conversation to the other woman would give the impression that she cared, that she had a vested interest in getting to know her counterpart, and that would look good as well. She was good at making friends, she had been in the past, at least, because she knew how to seem fun and friendly, carefree, even spontaneous at times, even though absolutely nothing that she did went unplanned. She took another sip of her wine as she waited for the woman’s reply.

Emma nodded politely along with the words Charlotte was saying, although she herself couldn’t remember the last time she wasn’t reading something. A bookworm from an early age, Emma always had her nose stuck in some form of literature- it had been a favourite topic from the bullies at school, back in the UK, and her brother’s favourite thing to tease her about all throughout their childhood. But it always remained a favourite pastime, her preferred form of escapism up until today, at thirty years old, and will remain so for many years to come, she was sure. Following what the girl was saying, she nodded and gave the novel a double tap, silently making a mental note that she was right; the girl was new around here, “well this one is good, pretty easy to read, if you’re wanting to get back into reading,” she recommended, unable to stop the small polite smile she wore when speaking to those she didn’t know from growing a little as always when she spoke about a book she was reading... Yeah she was a bit of a geek. But a proud one.

Sipping the wine, and listening to Charlotte telling her about the sale, “Oo, you’ve gotta love a good sale,” she agreed nodding knowingly, not the biggest shopper in the world- like everyone, she enjoyed saving a bit of money on a pair of shoes, or jeans or anything, and couldn’t help laughing as Charlotte said pretty much what she had been thinking about the heels great minds think alike she thought before agreeing with the fellow brunette laughing slightly as she spoke, “it really is, especially if they’re a bit cocky, and think they’re sooo much more important.” Rolling her eyes, Emma took another sip of the Merlot.

Fingertips danced across the necklace a small shy smile gracing her features as she thanked the woman, “thank you, I think this was actually a birthday gift last year.” She explained thinking back, was it? Or was Christmas? She couldn’t remember exactly, but oh well- it was a gift; that was the point. Offering a small nod in agreement to Charlotte’s love of feathers, Emma didn’t mind them, she didn’t dislike them, but never went out of her way for find anything feathered. She preferred more subtle jewellery, never really choosing anything too out there or exciting. They just didn’t really suit her.

Quickly jumping to reach over and help steady the glass before it could topple over, Emma laughed to help ease any embarrassment Charlotte may have felt, “it’s fine,” she promised mopping up the small spill with some nearby napkins, glancing up when she said she was new, “oh, well then welcome to Evergreen.” She beamed with a grin, “me, yeah I’ve been here a for awhile now,” the brunette confessed playing with her wine glass, “I came here with work, there was an opening at the local Coroner’s Office, so I applied got the job and transferred,” Emma explained with a slight giggle, “nothing majorly exciting, pretty straight forward.” The other woman seemed really nice, obviously Emma didn’t know her very well- or at all, but the first impression Em got was very positive. She was just a young woman in a new town, looking to meet some of her neighbours.

Charlotte already felt like things were going well with this woman. They had established not only common areas, but also differences, and differences could be just as important as things that they had in common. You didn't want to see too similar to a person or it seemed as though you were lying to get them to like you. Maybe Charlotte thought about these things too much, maybe she spent too much time working every little detail over in her mind, but in her experience, lack of details was what landed you in jail. If you got cocky and dropped the ball, that's when things got bad, and she wasn't going to let that happen. Maybe her parents had been stupid enough to go down that path, but she hadn't.

"Let me just write it down." She grabbed a napkin and scribbled down the name of the book before putting it in her purse. There was a good chance that she wouldn't read the book, but there was an equally good chance that she would. "Men." She rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her wine. "Can't live with them...definitely can't live without them." She offered her new "friend" a wink. It was nice having these conversations, not because she was making connections, but because she knew that what she was doing was working, that she was displaying an identity that wasn't real, and helping someone to fall for that identity. She was selling Charlotte Kelly to this Emma person, and Emma was buying it.

"The Coroner's Office?" She raised an eyebrow, attempting to engage the other woman more fully. "That sounds...more than a little bit morbid, but hey, if you can do that, more power to you, I'm a waitress, and it is likely to stay that way for quite some time." She worked serving people at a bakery in town, and while that wasn't the job that she was hoping would ultimately pay off, the money was surprisingly good for the job that she had - then again, much of Evergreen was fairly well off, so she made good money in tips as well, seeing as how she really knew how to charm people. "What kind of work do you do there? Autopsies? You'll have to excuse me, everything I know about coroner's I learned from NCIS, and something tells me that's not exactly how it works in the real world."

Emma nodded, moving the novel a little to give Charlotte a better view of the title, “I hope you like it,” she offered with a small shrug, a small part of her wondering if the other woman would actually read the recommendation or not, but did it really matter? Would it really affect her in any way, shape or form? No, not really but she just couldn’t help the small niggle of curiosity working its way into her brain. Laughing at the quote, the brunette nodded, “I’ll drink to that,” she said holding up her glass and clinking lightly against the other, “although sometimes we can have just as much fun without them,” Emma added with a coy smile as she sipped at the wine.

Nodding along with Charlotte’s comment about her career being ‘morbid’, “yeah... Yeah I get that a lot, but I do love it- it’s always interesting,” she explained with another rise and fall of her left shoulder, it was true, as much as she had protested having to follow in her parent’s footsteps and go into medicine (she was Banwell after all... And Banwells were doctors- no exceptions!) she had always found the human body fascinating and exciting, and hey how many people could say that they had cut into a person’s chest cavity and weighed their organs, making careful notes as she did so today... Okay not Emma today but she had an autopsy scheduled for tomorrow morning- so tomorrow evening she could.

And wow! It was times like these that she was really glad no one could read her thoughts, and that she had a little mental cap on what she was saying and everything didn’t just spew out... That would lead to the rest of the evening in an awkward silence... Mmm... “Yeah, yeah I do my fair share of autopsies- they’re normally not really that bad once you get used to the whole thing and don’t think too hard about what you’re doing. But yeah, I have to find a cause of death, deal with death records, issue death certificates. That kinda thing. ” Another giggle at the mention of NCIS, “I adore Ducky, he’s adorable. But NCIS doesn’t like to show just how much paperwork we have to do- and I don’t deal with quite that many murders.” Yes, Emma had worked on her fair share, but not every week like you’d imagine with all the crime shows there are.

Noticing the wine glasses were quickly emptying Emma nodded to Charlotte’s glass, “let me get you another drink,” she offered motioning to the bartender who was just finishing serving someone further down the bar while she grabbed her purse from her bag, “Chardonnay, wasn’t it?”

Charlotte smiled up at the woman, the napkin with the title tucked safely in her purse. Maybe she would read it, if she got bored, but most likely she would never look at that napkin again, except maybe to throw it away, or use it to wipe her hands. She was that kind of person, the kind that listened to everything that someone else said and processed it, but didn't always do what they suggested...or, you know, ever. "Well...you can have almost as much fun without them," she said with a coy smile. That was true, for the most part, though for Charlotte, sex was a weapon, it was something that she used to get men to give her what she wanted, not to actually enjoy herself, and so far, she had managed to work that just fine.

She listened carefully to the woman talking about her job, and really, it did sound interesting...at least until she got to the bit about the paperwork. Charlotte didn't love filling out forms, but then again, who did? She was good at it, though, because for every identity she had, she had had to fill out a ton of paperwork, forgeries and whatnot, and she was good at all of it, though it was painstaking and time consuming. "I always assumed it would be less...well, dramatic than television, most aspects of real life are." Charlotte couldn't really speak to every profession, but her life was nothing like those con man movies that you saw. She didn't throw on a red-dress and go seduce every man in town into giving her thousands of dollars, and she didn't use some weird code name like the "Jackal." She just lied and acted her way through life, making money on scams and by fooling people, and she was perfectly at peace with that, after all, she had been raised to do it.

It was very nice of this woman to offer her another drink, and had Charlotte any heart at all, really, she probably would have been fond of Emma, but she didn't make friends, she didn't like people, and that being as it was, Emma was really just a means to an end. "Thank you so much, that's very sweet." She smiled at the woman, keeping the ruse of being a normal human being, one who liked people and free glasses of chardonnay. one without an agenda that she had on the brain at every moment of every day. "And yes, chardonnay." She took a sip of the new glass once it was set down in front of her and then turned back to the woman. "So, tell me more about yourself," she stated. If they were going to become "friends," she had to seem interested.

The slim brunette nodded agreeing with the statement. Truth be told, it had been a while since Emma had been with anyone intimately. She wasn’t a prude, didn’t think of sex as that big of a deal, or something that should be kept ‘between two people who loved each other’ and honestly, didn’t think it was better with someone she loved- she had had her shared of one night stands in her time. At the end of the day, sex and sex and that was it. But she’d just not been with anyone in some time. Why? Honestly, she hadn’t had a lot of time. She’d not been in a relationship since she moved to Evergreen, and often found herself unable to get away from, or been too tired after, work to go out and find someone. But she was engaged now, thanks to the Vow whatsitmijig, so hopefully she wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore. Yay.

Emma also wasn’t a fan of constant stream of paperwork she had to fill out. One of the worst parts was when she typed up her autopsy notes, she normally recorded everything on a small Dictaphone and later transcribed the voice notes- it was just a lot easier, and quicker. Unfortunately she also had a habit of putting off typing the notes up, which lead to her having to spend hours and hours listening to herself drone on and on. It was never fun. “yeah, but I suppose more people would want to see the team solve a murder than watch Ducky work heart attack after heart attack, and then fill out a load of paper work,” she said with a small smile. It wasn’t a show Emma would choose to watch, that was for sure.

Waving off the ‘sweet’ comment, she quickly paid for the drinks, “don’t be daft, we can’t have empty glasses, can we,” she added with a small chuckle, taking a sip of the new glass of Merlot. Perfect, just what the doctor ordered. “Me? There’s not really that much to say, I’m not the most exciting of people,” the woman confessed, “I’m British, obviously,” she told the other woman, motioning to her throat indicating her accent, “moved over to the US when I was about eighteen, I claim for university but really was probably to get away from my family,” a small chuckle to show that although she moved thousands of miles away from them, they were able to laugh about it (well she was able to laugh about it; her parents not so much) and it wasn’t like they never spoke to each other anymore, she was still pretty close to her siblings, “engaged- but then again who isn’t in this town. What about you? What brings you to Evergreen? What’s your story?”

Charlotte felt like this was going well, very well indeed, really. She had managed to strike up a decent conversation with a perfectly nice woman, and as far as anyone could tell, they were having a good time. She was fitting in, she was talking to someone in a way that made her seem pleasant and relateable, which meant that she wasn't attracting any unwanted attention. She had learned early on in life that being frigid didn't really get you anywhere at all, so no matter how cold you were on the inside, act warm on the outside and things would work out just fine. That was the greatest, most useful lesson that life had taught her so far, and aside from "never, ever assume that you are in the clear or let your guard down," it was probably the most useful one she would ever have and she was glad for that.

"You know, if he read the paperwork aloud in that adorable accent of his, you might find it would get a few viewers," she stated, joking, of course. She was glad, now, that she had watched some NCIS and that she knew what she was talking about. If she had her way, she probably wouldn't have spent much time watching TV, but that was part of being an average american, so if she was going to fit in, she had to play that part, and to play a part, you had to do the research, which meant spending a night every week or so parked in front of the TV, staying a least semi-current on what was going on in popular culture. "Though I suppose that even that, after a few weeks, would get boring." She shrugged. Really, the whole thing would be boring, but she felt talking about the accent, making a joke, would win her points.

"I'll drink to that - empty glasses are the worst." She smiled brightly, taking another sip of her chardonnay. She listened as Emma talked about herself a little, nodding here and there to seem polite, and to let the other woman know that she really was listening. "I'm not engaged, at least not yet," she stated. "Soon, Vow and all - tell me about your man? If you don't mind, I mean, assuming you've met him." With the Vow, you never really could tell, some people seemed to meet before, and some after. "As for my story, well, instead of doing autopsies of heart attacks, I work in the place that dishes out the heart attacks - PanAroma, the bakery." She took another sip of her wine, slowing down her speech to let the other woman know that she was more comfortable with her now. "And uh...I'm here to get engaged, just another woman who's tired of the dating scene, really. Looking for a man who's looking to settle down." She shrugged. "There isn't really that much more to me, to be honest."

Emma hadn’t been acting. This was just her, she was just a girl sitting at a bar, chatting with someone, thinking they were getting on really well, the only unwanted attention she was really getting, was from the guy sat in the corner who every so often would look at her in some pervy way. But she knew he was harmless and so didn’t give him a second thought. He wanted to check her out, let him, it was little flattering if he didn’t go too creepy. And as the girls continued to talk, Em could feel her own guard slipping a little more. But why not? Charlotte really did seem like a nice girl. But maybe she was just a little too trusting at times.

Laughing along with her “maybe if he read a little now and then it wouldn’t bore viewers too much,” she added with a shrug before agreeing with the statement of it getting old. Truth be told, she wasn’t an avid watcher of the show herself. Sure, she’d seen a several episodes when she couldn’t sleep and it was on, or when she was at her brother’s house- Chris’ whole family seemed to love the show, and it was on a lot when she visited, she wasn’t complaining, it wasn’t a bad show and she found a lot of the characters adorable.

Emma’s gaze dropped to her left hand and the bare ring finger unable to stop the flutter of butterflies as she thought about the whole situation. Oh crap, Charlotte wanted to know about him? “His name is Nicholas Harrington,” Emma began telling pretty all she knew in that one sentence, she didn’t even know if he went by Nicholas, Nick, Nicky or what? Maybe a middle name.. She didn’t know, “he lives erm... locally,” she added laughing slightly, pink painting her cheeks as she dropped her gaze again, “no, I haven’t met him yet... It’s not really unheard of in this town. We’re getting married this Saturday,” her face broke out in a large grin, but she couldn’t hide the nervous look in her eyes and was glad when the conversation was changed. She was pretty positive about the whole thing it was just... embarrassing knowing so little about the man she was going to marry.

Nodding along with the woman’s story, “well I hope you end up with a good match,” she said before adding, “hope we both do,” and took another sip, grabbing a napkin and a pen from her bag, “here’s an idea, here is my number, and once you’re matched, gimme a call, and we’ll meet up or something, see what the guys we’re matched with are like,” she suggested with a smile as she handed the napkin over, “you know, if you need directions around town or whatever.” Whether the woman would call or not, Emma didn’t know, but it never hurt to be friendly.

Charlotte honestly didn't understand why people actually used the Vow unless it was, as it was for her, a means to an end. She was targeting the men who used the system on the assumption that, because they had entered such a large amount of money in something so shaky, they probably had money to throw around, and that was exactly what she needed. Guys who had money to throw around were exactly what she was looking for and exactly what she was hoping for. Sure, she was here to get married, but it wasn't for love and it wasn't ever going to be for love. She didn't believe in love, at least not for herself, and she wasn't going to allow anyone to convince her of it otherwise. Hell, if love existed, the Vow wouldn't need to...at least in her mind. Matchmaking services she understood. Marriage making services? Not at all.

"At least Nicholas Harrington is a good, strong name." Charlotte shrugged. That was weird, going to the alter without knowing someone...then again, to her, going to the alter at all would be weird. In order to marry someone for real, in her mind, you had to trust them, and she trusted no one but herself. She couldn't be trusted, so why should anyone else be? "I'm sure if they put you two together, it's for a good reason, though, so he's probably amazing, or, you know, they went to prejudice route and he's British so that's why you two got matched." She was making a joke and she hoped that Emma would see it as such, and not as some sort of attack on her nationality. "I wish you the best for your wedding!" Honestly, she didn't care of Emma had a good wedding or not, but pretending like she did was very, very important - after all, what friend, hell, what amiable acquaintance would wish a bad wedding on anyone? None.

Charlotte took the number that Emma gave her and tucked it in her purse along with the book title. She would call it, definitely, but only because she had to keep up the pretense of making friends, and having someone around to spend her time with could only be considered a good thing, really. IT would help to sell her as a real person in this town. Everyone had friends, at least most people did, and she wasn't about to be the odd one out. "Going out, having a glass of wine and talking about our husbands? Sounds like my kind of night." Charlotte smiled. She wondered what her match would be like. She assumed that most of the people in this thing must be truly desperate, so her hopes for someone attractive, suave or even remotely tolerable were not high, but people seemed to keep signing up, which meant some matches had been working out for people. "I'll definitely give you a post-wedding call. As for now, I should probably get going, but thank you so much for the wine and the chat!"

The brunette nodded trying to stop the small smile from growing into a nervous, but excited grin, “it is isn’t it,” she said once again a blush coating her cheeks her entire face warming up, it was the Banwell curse, the entire family had a habit of blushing ridiculously quickly- everyone except her youngest sister who seemed to somehow get away with it [s]she must be the milkman’s[/i]. Thinking now about the name of her betrothed she couldn’t help but think it was a pretty funky name, before another thousand questions popped into her mind, would she take his name? Would he expect her to? Did Emma Harrington suit her? God, there was so much more than she thought that went into this whole marriage thing.

Crap, Charlotte was talking again I really need to stop going off on these little tangents of mine she thought to herself, nodding along so that it at least looked like her complete attention was on the woman as she quickly tried to catch up. Ah, a joke, she could work with this, and laughed, “yeah maybe I could sue them try and get my money back- that thing really isn’t cheap!” she added. Granted, Emma hadn’t expected it to cost nothing; the company was footing the bill for not only the wedding, but also home of all the couples that met through The Vow, but still she’d but a lot of money into this- Mr. Harrington better be the man of dreams and not just lumped with her.

Emma drained the glass (and wondered how that had gone so quickly, oops) before telling her, “I’m sure you’ll have a great match too, and thank you- that’s very sweet of you. You tell you the truth I’m a little terrified, but hey life would be boring without these little adventures, right?” Ever since she was little she’d been searching for adventure; climbing up trees, scraping with her brother, escaping in every book she could find and as she grew into a woman and began searching for an adventure in another country, another continent, in learning language or... or getting married.

The slim brunette nodded, quickly looking at the time on her phone, god was it really that time? “You’re probably right, it’s getting kinda late,” she said collecting her thing and trying to organise them somehow in her bag, “it was great meeting you Charlotte, gimme a call at some point and we’ll definitely meet up!”

Charlotte was glad that the conversation was wrapping up. Maybe she was good at this sort of thing, talking to people, making them think that they were becoming friends, but that did NOT mean that she liked it, and she was about ready for some time alone. Sure, she was only doing what she had to in order to complete her plan, but that didn't make it easy and that didn't make it fun. Most people honestly didn't enjoy their jobs, and that was all this was, work. Unlike most people, however, Charlotte's job never stopped. She couldn't go on break or leave the office for the end of the day, because every little thing she said, did or even really thought was a part of her job, and there was never going to be any escaping from that. She had chosen this life, and now she had to be okay with that.

"It was really great meeting you, Emma," she said with a smile as she lay down a few dollars on the bar as a tip and grabbed her bag. She didn't know where she was going to go, probably home, but right now her main priority was to be done with this conversation. Sure, she would call Emma, they would hang out, become "friends," maybe, have joint dinners with their husbands if everything went well on that front, but there was really no room in Charlotte's life for emotional connections of any sort, and that included people like Emma, who were nice, friendly and really far too trusting.

People this confused Charlotte. Had they just never been hurt? Never given a reason not to trust a smiling face and a kind demeanor? Sure, not everyone could act, but enough people could for trusting to be a pretty dangerous game, and Charlotte knew that, because she was a part of it, but she pitied people who didn't. As she left the bar, she wondered what it would be like to have any actual friend, to find yourself caring about the things that they said and did, to actually be invested in the life of another person. She wrinkled her nose, shaking her head almost instantly as she got into her car. That was NOT the life for her, and she really couldn't imagine how it was the life for anyone, but to each their own.