Post by AVA ALDRIDGE on Feb 8, 2012 20:48:35 GMT -5
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The last time Regan had a friend was in high school, but it wasn’t a true friend and neither was the woman she was meeting today. Regan was a little surprised that she wouldn’t be staring at her computer screen for hours. She had started a new television series and was efficiently hooked on it. She was watching it from the first episode up on the internet and she had to put her alarm clock on so she would be reminded she had somewhere to go today. She loved the British accents in Sherlock, it amused her – to her dismay there were not many episodes at all so she found herself disappointed. She moved on to The Big Bang Theory, which had enough episodes to let her be a bed bug for as long as she could possibly want. Sure, she did have a job to do tonight after she was finished hanging out with her new French buddy, but she was trying not to think about it. She knew little of the man, but she knew he was somewhat a big name in Hollywood and for some reason he wanted a woman on his arm tonight for some sort of promotion or party, whatever, something at the club. However, the man didn’t know he was on the list if people who “had to go” so she would effectively kill him later without leaving a trace. Which would be difficult in if she went “As is” seeing as they would be in a very public place and people would see her leave with him. The only option she had was to come back and manipulate her appearance – the lessons in professional costume make-up down in L.A. was coming very handy tonight. While out shopping, she had to buy an outfit and she would be golden for her job tonight.
She kept it casual for her day out, she slit into tight black pants that hugged the natural lines of her body and but on an animal print shirt, a black jacket, and then a fur scarf. She slid her dainty feet into boots and stared into a full-length mirror. The way woman wrote through the instant messenger made Regan wonder what she was wearing would be good enough for her. Well, if it wasn’t then Regan wouldn’t be ashamed of it. Regan liked what she was wearing, so if the other didn’t – Regan would serve her some Irish sass. Heading down, Regan drove her car down to the address she was given. She didn’t know much about the woman before she searched her on the internet. Regan was not one for not knowing what she was walking into, ever since she had started to work toward placing herself in the mob she was always careful to know everything the internet could tell her before she headed into the unknown. The snow had Regan going every which way, but she was used to the snow and she believed in studded “snow” tires no matter what. It wasn’t usually what she used them for – usually she was running over someone’s arm because they pissed her off. Today she was actually using them for the correct purpose. She looked at the slip of the paper and pulling into a barely off the street parking spot. Regan got out of the car and kept perfect balance even with the slush and ice wanting her to fall. She got up to the door and knocked lightly. She kicked snow off of her boots, waiting for an answer from the French woman on the other side.