No Turning Back (Alvis Alendran&SHARPii)

It was a new day and it was one she wasn’t too keen on greeting considering she made it into bed maybe five hours ago. Sure, actual lawyers probably got less sleep and since she was just a runner, she should be pretty damn lucky to still get five hours of sleep. But it was also because she bartended a few nights a week at The Spot and on nights when she worked at the firm earlier too. That was how last night was. At some point though, she forgot how she got home, how she ended up getting six shots in her system and the sound of Kelly Clarkson crooning on the radio with some static in the background wasn’t too great to hear.

A groan came from her as hands came up from beneath her pillow to grip her head. But when her eyes landed on the time and that she somehow slept into her second alarm as opposed the first, she flew from the bed like someone who didn’t have a hangover and started about getting ready. Running from her bathroom, from her closet and back and all over the place. She was able to grab a quick shower, not bothering with her hair since she didn’t have time, pulled on bra and panties while her skin was still wet and proceeded to combing her hair and brushing her teeth at the same time, successfully too, if that can be believed or not. When she was in her white satin blouse with black trousers and nice pumps, she worked with her unruly raven black wavy long hair that did not want to cooperate. One side was sticking up while the other was stuck on her head and she wanted to know but then decided she didn’t care to. So she managed to tie it back in a pristine ponytail without a single stray lock out of place and grabbed her things.

In the process, her friend and ace reporter Abby texted. Her phone was silent so the text went unheard and unnoticed.
By the time she got to the firm, it was ten passed eight. She was late. So by the time she up to Bree’s desk to see what she had to do today, she got an earful until a partner walked by. Bree was particular with Esther Martin. Yes, that was her name. Esther Martin, runner by day, bartender by night. Anyways, Bree Larkin seemed to be possibly a cool woman. But not to Esther. For some reason, after a week of her working there, Bree started to be a major bitch to Esther. She was nice before and now if anyone was to face her ire for anything, it was Esther.

After getting chewed out, she was given her errands and runs for the day. She took care of the ones at the firm first before going off to others. By the time she finished, she was able to get herself some lunch and look at her phone. It had six text messages from her ace reporter friend, ten voicemails and twenty missed calls. “Shit!” She exclaimed as she instantly called her back, not bothering to read or hear anything. When the phone went to her voicemail—which Esther found incredibly odd—she called again. She called a third time and then put her phone down. Throwing the rest of her club sandwich, she grabbed her drink and made a sprint to the newspaper not too far. She popped to the basement floor and found Abby in. “Hey.”

“There you are! For crying out loud woman, do you not check your shit?”
“I particularly don’t like to.” Esther responded sarcastically, earning a scowl from Abby.
“What do you need? You spammed my phone, you know that, right?”
“That’s because someone wouldn’t answer her flipping phone. And now I am so busy, I can’t even take a moment to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” Esther asked.
“Later. Come over tonight. We’ll have wine and I’ll tell you the latest.”
She looked at her reporter friend with a quizzical brow. “Your firm is involved.” And that got her curiosity enough.
“I’ll be right over after work.”
She air kissed her cheek and then left, heading back to the firm. When she got back, Esther checked once more with Bree who bitched at her for taking a lunch break when she was not given the permission. It caused her to wince a bit, especially when a partner walked by just as Bree called an ‘incompetent twit.’ Not exactly the way she wanted to be described by an executive to a partner.

She went about her day like her ego and confidence hadn’t been bruised—as difficult as it was—before she eventually was let out. Before she left, she checked with Mr. Trenton’s assistant and her good friend, Mallory, if she needed anything done. They gossiped for a bit before Mallory had to finish up. Esther left and went to Abby’s place but when she got there, the place was already opened.

“Abs?” She called out, opening the ajar door a bit more, poking her head in. She saw her cat meowing in the corner and frowned. “Hey Rumple.” She walked in and the gray cat ran to her and jumped in her arms, purring contentedly. “Where’s Momma, hmm?” She nuzzled her as she continued on. “Abby, darling?” She sang, checking the entire place before going to the bedroom, stopping in her tracks.

Blood, more blood, even more blood—wait was that a brain chunk?—blood smears and splatters and then a body, right there, in the middle of a duvet. Clothes ripped and strewn about and her lifeless eyes staring right at her. Esther would have screamed if she had a voice. Instead, she turned cold, as if she was having an out of body experience; she couldn’t move.

The police had cordoned off the are with remarkable speed and efficiency. There had be close to thirty five officers on duty there, keeping back the press and anyone else who wanted to get a closer look at things. It was clear that whatever had happened, it was bad. The police line was up completely, and officers were busily repeating the well known phrase "No comment" like broken records. One man approached the line with no hesitation, and ducked under. An officer jogged to stop him, but the man held out an ID that turned the officer around almost instantly. The man moved on t the building.

"Ma'am, I know this is hard, but we just need to ask you a few more questions." The lead detective said apologetically.
"If you know it's hard, then you'll step back, adn give the poor woman room to breathe." Came the self assured male voice from the door. The detective looked to see a tall, strongly built man standing in the doorway, seeming oblivious to the glares he got fromt the police.
"And you are?" The detective asked.
"Harrison Trenton, senior partner at Harrison and Lloyd, and I am here for Miss Larkin." He said calmly, showing his ID. The detective sighed.
"Miss Larking is a material witness, but she's not being charged with a crime Mr. Trenton. She's no need for a lawyer."
"Then she'll have a co-worker for support who happens to be a lawyer. And if she's not being charged, then she's free to go."
"We're not done here!"
"Then charge her with something, or she walks from here. Any further attempts to contact her in relation to this incident will be directed through my office personally, or I wil have you on charges of harrassment. Good day Detective. Esther? If you'll come with me, we'll get you out of here." He offered a hand to her.

It took a while before some life came back into her and when it did, Esther found herself on the ground, cuddling a very sleeping Rumplestiltskin in her arms. He purred softly and when she went from white to with a bit of color in her face, her hand absently came up and her fingers threaded through his thick gray fur, petting him. Her eyes were glued to the scene before her. Her best friend since they were kids was now lying on her bed with blood all around her. That if they ever needed a confirmation that it was Abigail Santorini, Esther would be able to do that. Her best friend just died the most horrific death she ever thought possible.

The next few hours went by in a breeze. She had the biggest inkling to cover her now dead friend since her parts were showing, well what was left of them under the mangled mess. But she knew better. Instead, she sat outside of Abby’s home in the corner of the porch on a porch swing. She had her legs tucked underneath her on the swing and Rumple in her lap. At some point, she abandoned her pumps but she said nothing, spoke not a work and looked on with this most catatonic look in her eyes.

The police came. There were people about. Even reporters wanting to get the latest on Abigail Santorini’s death. She was a cub reporter but one that was on the look out as one of the most promising reporters in this town at least. She would have been a force to reckon with. Now she was dead and Esther had no idea why. Then she remembered back when the cogs in her mind decided to wake from their shocked and disturbed silence. She remembered Abby telling her that they needed to talk, that the news involved Esther’s firm but what was it? Was it so bad to have killed her over? No, that couldn’t be. This had to be…something…else?

Rumple awoke in her arms and ran off. “Rumple!” She practically hollered out but the cat just went inside. She grumbled when she realized her outburst at the sodden cat caused the police and other onlookers’ attention to her. “Shit.” She mumbled as her knees came up, she trying to make herself as small as she could to scoot closer into the dark corner so she wouldn’t get spotted. Unfortunately she was because a detective decided to bombard her. But she was silenced by the familiar name being thrown about that made her drop her jaw mentally since she was really too stunned to do anything else. Instead, Esther poked her neck out and almost made a ‘merp’ sound when she saw Harrison stepping onto the porch. Holy f—he knows my name!? Of all the things to think…

Turning her head to the detective who didn’t budge with Harrison to talk to Esther, she bit her lower lip before lowering her legs. She stood but didn’t take her hand. “Um, thank you Mr. Trenton. I just need to go find a cat before we go.” Not one of the sentences she ever thought she’d say to him. Feeling awkward and like she was putting him way out, she side stepped him before walking quickly inside. She found her pumps and after getting them back on to squeeze her already aching feet, she set about finding Rumple.

“Rumple! Rumplestiltskin get your cute little butt out here.” She muttered but said loud enough. She heard a meow and practically tackled the little cat before standing and carrying him in her arms. “I’ll take care of you now sweet pea. Just you and me.” She kissed his head before she stepped back outside, her things with her as well as Rumple in her arms. “I can easily drive home sir. It’s not too far and not a big deal.” She tried to casually shrug it off like it was nothing when it was everything but nothing. How often did best friends die anyways?

When all she wanted was to get out of there, go home, draw a bath so she could get under and submerged and let out a loud and long wail she had wanted to let out when she first saw Abby. There’d be no sleeping tonight, this she knew. Every time she tried to close her eyes or think of something else, all that came to mind immediately enough to startle her enough was Abby.

And then the realization finally sunk in as she came back to life. Her best friend was dead. No more Abby. No more…
Her eyes welled up with tears and she looked away. But when she did, it was right when the coroner was bringing out her dead body in a body bag with another on a stretcher. Wiping her cheek with her arm, she sniffled and shook her head. She just wanted to go. And not be here anymore. She couldn’t.

“Get me out of here?” She whispered, it was so soft she feared he wouldn’t hear it. But she didn’t care if she was putting him out now. She needed to go. Now.

"Right now." Harrison said softly, promises of comfort and escape in his eyes. She was terrified, that uch was clear, and he had little doubt that she'd need a lot of time away from work if she was going to put herself back together. Which was unfortunate. he'd been watching her work records, and she did good work. Several of his staff disliked her, but Harrison was quite sure that it was worry about Esther replacing them eventually. And if she continued to improve, then they were right to e worried. Bree Larkin was the greatest offender, but Harrison knew it was from teh knowledge that Bree had reached the peak of her abilities, and would be climbing no further within the company. But these were thoughts for a distant time! He veyr gently rested a hand on Esther's shoulder, adn led her out of the building.

His car was a large one, an old Lincoln, made in the late 60s, but it still gleamed like it was fresh from the factory. He made sure Esher was seated properly in the car before taking his seat. The car was running, adn he carefully pulled into the street, before finally looking to Esther.
"Were you wanting to head home then?" He asked. His distaste for having the cat in the car was great, but he also knew it was easier than risking having Esther descend into hysterics from removing the animal. Besides, he wasn't completely without pity for her situation. She'd lost a firend, and good one if her reaction was any indicator, which was bound to unsettle anyone. He only hoped she might keep herself together at least a little.

She nodded to him, her eyes showing her emotion as the tears gathered but at the same time, much gratitude for his interference as well as arrival to the entire situation emanated from them. So she turned with him to leave, stroking Rumple’s little gray head as she walked too. The heels of her pumps clacked lightly on the concrete of the paved pathway of Abby’s house. There was a throng of people surrounded as well as police and all the hoopla over a murder. She kept her head down and held Rumple tighter to her, earning a ‘meow’ from the little cat.

Once seated in Mr. Trenton’s car, she buckled up and kept the cat a little bundle in her lap. Thankfully, he stayed where he was and was so content to be purring as she stroked his head. It was probably what was keeping him in her lap and not creating an even bigger inconvenience in his car. It only then occurred to her that he might not even like having a cat in his really nice vintage car. She was really digging on it. It was beautiful. And what did she drive?

Oh, her car…

She opened her mouth to say something that her car was Abby’s but she figured she could walk to get it before she went to work.
Just as he asked the question, her phone rang. She found it in her purse and looked at the caller ID. Her co-worker from The Spot. “Hey.” She answered. With a heavy sigh, she closed her eyes for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I can.” She murmured. “No, everything’s fine. I’ll be there in fifteen. Bye.” She hung up and looked at him. “Would it be possible if you took me to The Spot? I bartend there a few nights a week. I just called in.” As much as she wanted her bath, she knew that working at The Spot that night would be a really lovely distraction. She wouldn’t be alone with her shots and chances are, she would sleep tonight only because of the few shots she’d get into her system. Yeah, she liked that idea a lot, especially the alcohol part. Perks of being a part time bartender.

“If that’s not okay, that’s fine. I can catch a cab.” She bit her lower lip looking at him and then turning her head to look out the windshield. He was a big deal at the firm she worked at. She felt so tiny next to him in the car and just in stature. She didn’t want to put him out more than he already was. No doubt, he was. She was sure.

Harrison smiled, a small smile that seemed to be sharing a secret. It had the look of one that didn't get used very often, which was certainly true.
"Nonsense, it will be no trouble at all. Though I believe the first thing you need to do is deposit your furry friend there at your home. I doubt the bar would approve of him stalking around, however amusing he may be." He said kindly. He kept an eye on the road, but reached out a hand to gently stroke the head behind the ear of the cat. As much as he didn't like them in his car, he did have a certain fondness for cats. Strong, independant creatures that required minimal care, and seemed to accept their domestication because it was easier than living wild. These were things about an animal he could respect.

"After that, I could use a drink myself. I'll stay around, give you a ride back home after you're finished there." He amended. A part of him wanted to make sure that she got home, and processed this out of her system, but he also knew that this might be a fairly solid coping mechanism, burying herself in a task, while drowning it in a wash of alcohol. He could hardly fault Esther for that.

She looked down at a contently purring and sleeping Rumple and almost laughed. How silly of her to think that she could get away with bringing the little creature into the bar. Though considering the kind of bar it was, she wouldn’t be so surprised if she could stow him around her boss’s office to play around in for a few hours. It’s not like she closed that night anyways. She got off the moment the bar closed but she wasn’t required to stay and help. Not tonight at least.

“Yeah, probably.” She looked at him briefly before watching his hand as it came over to the feline creature in her lap. She smiled a small smile one that did reach her eyes though because of the affection he showed. It was sweet. It almost felt human to be conversing with someone like Harrison Trenton. Then again, she always tried to avoid him mostly because of her first reaction to him; she thought he was Harrison Ford.
Naturally, Mallory didn’t keep that a secret from her boss. This was before she and Esther became as good of friends as they are now.

“Thank you Mr. Trenton. I really do appreciate this.” However, her plans to drink after she got off work were not thwarted because he would be there and give her a ride home even. She didn’t want to be drunk out of her mind. Four shots knocked back immediately were all it took to get her drunk enough. Last night she had six. That should say something. Esther Martin was a total lightweight. “Well considering what you did tonight, consider all drinks for you and you alone, on the house.” She bit her lower lip and then opened her mouth to speak. “That invitation doesn’t extend to another person.” She pursed her lips. “Don’t think I’ll let that slide.” Her lips twitched at the corners as she smiled a bit before enjoying the rest of the ride home.

Good. This was good. Talking was good. This was normal. She told him how to get to her little apartment. It was a relatively quick drive. Once she was there, she walked up the little path that led to the stairs of the building, having let him know she’d be right out. Going up, she deposited a sleeping Rumple on her bed and set out newspapers around for him if he had to do some business while she was out. He was a well trained house cat. He’d know what it meant. She hoped. At the same time, she was able to change out of her firm clothes. At the firm, she dressed in professional attire. For the bar…?

Esther came out of her apartment building in all black. She had a cropped black jacket on mostly in case the temperature decided to drop even more that night but underneath was a corseted tank top with ripped black skinny jeans and black New Rocks. She learned when she dressed like this on accident, she got the most business and the most tips. She made sure to dress like this often. She always went home with more than enough tips to help with payments and spending. The money she got from her job at the firm was her salary. The money she got from the bar was her spending money.

Her hair was untied, she wore a bit of more thicker eyeliner and she got into his car. Looking at him, she just smiled a little bit. “Ready to go?”

Harrison cocked an eyebrow as he saw her coming out of the building. This was...unexpected to sya the least. But then again, she had named the bar as The Spot, which hardly sounded like one of the upper class locations he was known to frequent. If how she was dressed was an indication of the clientelle that she was going to be working with, then it was a good guess that the suit jacket he wore was likely worth more than the rest of the clientelle's wardrobes put together. But that was hardly relevant, he thought to himself.

So this was Esther when she let her hair down. In this case, literally let her hair down. Harrison had always found himself drawn to more sophisticated women, ones that he felt were meeting him on equal ground. His dating life had been...intersting. A few dalliances here and there with other lawyers of similar standing, Which had been satisfying, an affair that had lasted almost a year with a govenor's wife, before he had ended things when she began to speak of leaving her husband for him, and a single, electrifying month that he spent with a professional dominatrix. It had bene like two stroms colliding, each fighting for dominance in teh relationship, until all of the passion and effort had bled out of them, leaving them both in agreement that it was time to end things.

Esther however, met none of these things. After all, she a very junior member of the firm, and several years younger than he typically observed. But the rough and tumble look actually sat well on her. With a little practice, she could carry a dangerous air that would likely make her even more appealing to him. But that was not something one said to a woman that you had just met recently, and more importantly, worked for you.
"Of course." He replied, smiling back.

Naturally, it didn’t faze her that she went from two completely different kinds of styles and personas. No, Esther didn’t wear thick make up and clothes like this that accentuated every curvy and asset on her body to fine perfection. Because these were the jeans that made her ass look divine. No. She liked to think of herself as a chameleon after she graduated from college and needed to support herself until she could land a job she actually wanted to do. Just apparently, they weren’t hiring teachers for the subject she wanted. So she settled. This wasn’t her plan by any means at all but she improved greatly when she had to and had not the best support.

Nodding to him though, she sat back in the seat, the ride relatively silent. Arriving at The Spot, she got out of the car and briefly thanked Mr. Trenton when she got a call. Apparently the bar was busy tonight, which his why they needed an extra hand. “I’m walking in John!” She practically barked into the phone as she opened the door and leaving Harrison alone. She didn’t even look back.

She went to the back, took her jacket off, flipped her hair and then came out to the front. She went to work like she had been working there since college. Oh wait, she had been. Yeah, she had been working at The Spot full time since she was eighteen. Because she was underage and couldn’t serve alcohol then, she was like a bus boy. It was worth it since she made eight dollars an hour. Then she turned twenty-one and was promoted to bartender alongside John Kincade, Tabitha Sparks and Mindy Tailway. John was this strapping guy who knew how to get women to look his way and usually all the customers he made drinks for were women—mostly women trying to throw themselves at him. He was dating Mindy Tailway who had gotten used to it. As long as John came home to her and did her rather than another woman, she was fine. Mindy was okay but she and Esther didn’t see eye to eye. Actually, Esther didn’t get along with her or Tabitha because she took all their usual clients away. Apparently she had more to offer. Esther was too humble and kind to think anything of it. She just did her job and took her tips, saving up currently for a concert and a vacation.

She saw her regulars and got them their drinks immediately. She worked well, having been doing this for that long. After college, when it was difficult to find a job, she saw ads for runner jobs at prestigious law firms. They paid damn well and she made herself okay with living with the bare minimum if it meant not being homeless. She just learned that her income at the firm took care of all her bills and payments and everything else. Rent even. Money from the bar, well that was the money she could spend on herself without being forced to give her money away.

The bar was pretty mellow. It had this ‘Coyote Ugly’ feel to it but unfortunately the girls and John did not get up on the bar and sing and shower alcohol everywhere. But right now it felt like the crowd was like that because it was so packed. There was also a little dance floor over way that was crowded. She didn’t know why but finally understood. They had a guest band, and that was what the hoopla over this venue was. It was a pretty big deal. The dance floor was packed, the music was loud and it wasn’t looking to die down at least for another hour when the band would leave and it’d go back to the regular thumping music usually played.

When that hour did go by, she was so swamped. She was leaning over the bar, casually chatting with John, the only one of the bartenders she got along with. Mindy and Tabitha chatted amongst themselves. John poured Esther a shot and she declined but he pushed. She looked about, her eyes searching for Mr. Trenton. She felt like a school girl who was looking out to make sure the principal didn’t see her do something bad.

Taking the shot of tequila, she knocked it back like she knocked five others last night.

“One down, five more to go. Or are we going for seven total tonight to surpass your limit of six?” He teased.
She batted him away. “Go make out with your girlfriend.”

Harrison found a place to park his car, glad that he had paid the exorbitant insurance rates to make sure it was properly cared or. He stepped out, and made his way towareds the bar. It was packed enough that they were turning people away, he stepped to the entrance when a man reached to stop him. Harrison fixed him with a glare that froze the hand before it touched.
"Sorry sir, we're full up right now." He said, his voice a touch less confident than it had been with the last man.
"Do not touch me. Do not think to touch me. And get out of my way. Now." The words were not loud, and they did not sound like they were full of bluster. They were cold, low, threatening, filled with the promise of swift and sudden retribution. The man slowly withdrew his hand, not questioning for a moment that this man in a full suit was capable of making good on his warnings.
"Enjoy your time here?" The man siad, not sure if he should be speaking at all. harrison cocked an eyebrow, that look only getting more severe. "Sir?"
"Better." Harrison nodded, adn pushed the door open walking inside.

By all the gods and their mothers, what am I doing here? he wondered to himself. You are here to ensure the mental stability of Esther Martin. Your employee. Who found the body of her friend who was brutally murdered. Do not lose sight of this. The more calm, rational part of himself assured him. He moved to a table, and waited patiently for a waitress. She appeared frazzled, overworked to teh extreme. He could sympathize with that.
"What'll it be?" She asked him, not bothering with banal introductions. She didn't care who he was, and was sure he didn't care who she was. In w ay it was refeshing for Harrison to not have to play along with a social protocol that he'd not seen the point in.
"A scotch. Glen Livit. As old as you possess. And quickly." He said calmly. She hesitated at the last. He reached into his jacket, adn withdrew a billfold, one that had to contain at least a thousand dollars. He peeled off a fifity. "To ease your burden, simply bring me five. It will see me through some time. And whatever is left is your miss." She grinned at him, and took the money, heading out to fill the order.

Harrison was annoyed that it had taken him as long as it did to get in here. Parking a car like his was no easy in the best of cricumstances, and as busy as this place was, that complicated things enormously. He'd only had his first drink before he realized that it had been close to an hour since Esther had come inside. He tracked his eyes along the bar, before finally catching a glimpse of her knocking back a shot. He hardly blamed her. If she wasn't likely getting it for free due to her status here, he'd have sinply dropped money on the bar and told her to drink to her hearts content. She seemed to get on well with the male bartender, which was interesting. Though now that he contenplated it, it all made sense in a very simple, fundamental way. It was Bree Larkin all over again.

It did seem that Esther was getting the lions share of tips and attention, and he did not blame the crowd. Were he one of the common rabble that swarmed here, he too would likely try and ply her attention by purchasing more adn more of her products, trying to impress her with his expenditure. It was a rather deplorable way to look at things really, almost as much as it seemed that it genuinely worked on some women. It was very nearly prostitution as he saw it, albeit a legal form of it. Still, he had the thought that Esther would at least have enough dignity to hold herself above such a thing. He did finally catch her eye, and raised a glass to her to make sure she knew he'd seen her.

As John did go over to Mindy and stole her away since they weren’t busy at all now that the band had left—the main attraction for the night at The Spot gone—Esther was pouring herself another shot. It wasn’t that they got free booze and each employee who was old enough to drink could but the owner just didn’t care. And since his bartenders brought in good money and his drawers never came up short, he hardly complained. Basically, as long as The Spot didn’t go out of business because his bartenders took freebies, he was okay.

Tabitha was on the other side of the bar and she was staring at Esther, more like glaring at her. Esther was completely oblivious as she was about to knock back the second. Then her eyes caught a glimpse of Mr. Trenton and she froze. Shit! She put the shot down immediately. With that nod and raise of his glass, she knew he had seen her down the first shot. Now all she could think about was Bree telling her in front of a partner—thank the stars it was not Mr. Trenton!—that she was an incompetent twit. She turned and her face flushed. She didn’t touch a drink for the rest of her shift.

When she did get off, she went to the back and said her goodbyes to people—namely John and Ernest, the owner who was always huddled up in his office—and then walked over to Mr. Trenton at his table. She put her hands in the pockets of her jeans and nodded to him. “So how did your night go?” She asked, taking a seat down at the table he sat and crossed a leg over the other. “Sorry you got dragged in here tonight and I’m even more sorry that it was such a busy night. I had no idea. I got called in last minute.” She sighed softly. She felt guilty. Plus, he was Harrison Trenton. Kind of a big deal.

“We should go though. I don’t want to take up any more of your time and be an even bigger burden.” She stood up. Plus, she knew how busy top notch lawyers were. “Shall we?”

Her abstaining from alcohol after sighting him was a little predictable, and vaugely disapointing. But it was also hardly surprising. After all, when a senoir partner of the firm was present, you would hardly feel inclined to cut loose and act out. A more stringent partner might hold such a night against you. Harrison wasn't typically one to follow such a practice, but he understood the line of reasoning that it would follow. A part of him was impressed at her restraint, and another a little let down. It might have proved to be a fascinating experience to see what she as like when she was a little more uninhibited.

The waitress had surprised him, producing a number of glasses, just as he'd asked, of Glen Livet. He'd expected the standard fare of twelve year swill, but he'd been pleasantly surprised to find eighteen year in his glass. it was a most welcome diversion. It was not what he had grown accustomed to, with twenty-one year being his norm, but eighteen in a dive bar like this was a nice change of pace and expectation. He nursed his drinks along, prolonging the experience. The band was abrasive to his ears, but he understood, the masses neeed to be satisified, or there was no business to be done. He spent a good portion of the night crowd watching with his scotch. Which was a pleasent experience for him.

Here he saw a man who was likely a banker during normal business hours, trying desperately to impress a woman who had no interest in him. In fact, if Harrison had to bet money, he'd have bet that the woman was in fact married. To the left, he saw a member of the band hitting on no less than five women at once. god as they might be to the general masses, they did not command that level of respect and awe that one woud need to woo such a crowd. Harrison watched as the man reached beyond his grasp, and failed utterly because of it. Regardless of the result, Harrison felt that the man might one day go far for such an attitude. Or he might be held back by his comrades. It was impossible to tell for sure.

Harrison watched as Esther approached him, and he smiled, thinking to put her at at least a slight amount of ease.
"My night was surprising. I had no idea such a place carried a decently aged scotch." He admitted, gesturing with one of his empty glasses. There were three of them before him, leaving two glasses, each generously filled with two and a half shots.
"And I agree that we likely should be off, I am loathe to waste such a substance." he said calmly, sliding one of the glasses across the table towards her. "I insist on this. Share a drink with me. Help me make sure that I've wasted nothing tonight. And never assume you are a burden Miss Martin. I have always been willing to take the time to know who it is that works within my company. And I make a particular effort to know the up and comers of the company, which I most certainly believe you to be one of." He said calmly. "After this, I will take you home, and ensure that you settle for the night."

Looking down at the table when he offered a drink, insisting on it, she let out a small sigh. To her, liquor was liquor though because of her father, she did have quite the appreciation for the amber colored ones like scotch, whiskey, bourbon and brandy. Mm, she could do well with a nice brandy tonight but she also knew that the Glen Livet was a pretty nicely aged scotch and she wouldn’t be rude to turn it down. Though she didn’t intend to drink it like she did with a shot. This was the one to appreciate.

Pulling her chair out, she sat down again and then took the glass he offered, raising it up to him in a small ‘cheers’ gesture before she took a nice sip. She sat back and with a small sigh, tilted her head back, feeling some cricks cracking and she closed her eyes. That was nectar alright and hit the spot just perfectly.

Tilting her head, she sat up a bit and then regarded him, sighing softly. “I really owe you a lot Mr. Trenton. Thank you so much. For everything.” She had her glass set down and looked at him with a sincere look. “Really. I don’t know what I would have done and I wasn’t expecting anything of it. Is there anything I need to do to compensate for your time. I know you’re incredibly busy and this surely wouldn’t have been easy.” She had it in her mind that this must have been quite the problem for him or such a damper on him and his time.

Despite what he said, she couldn’t get it out of her head. What was she compared to him? Nothing, in the slightest. She was just a runner at the firm he was a partner at. Yeah, she was at the bottom of the food chain and even just being a runner, she knew how expensive Harrison Trenton’s time was. Surely there was going to be a major fee for him just even arriving at the scene of the crime.

Harrison actually felt that had he been another man, he might have been touched by her words. Here was a woman who had a firm grasp of her place in the current scheme of things, but was reluctant to make assumptions. It was a valuble attitude. But with how her night had been, it was clear she needed something of a human response from him, and he was more than capable of being very convincing on that front.
"Miss Martin, you owe me nothing. Truly. What I might have asked for my arrival would be in this glass." He answered, holding the scotch for emphasis. "I am not sure if word had reached you in the runners den, but we closed the Sleipman case today, so I am without a particular case to devote myself to. And the firm has a very clear policy about employees who need representation in any legal matters. It is provided, pro bono, by the best qualified lawyer available. As luck would have it, that was me."

It was a strange policy really, one that had earned Harrison a lot of questioning when the other chief partner, Garrett Lloyd, had found out about it. Lloyd had debated the merits of the policy for the first year, until they had resolved four separate cases for emplyees who went on to be star lawyers in their fields, loyalties very firmly in the hands of Harrison and Lloyd. Masters who sacrifice for their servants receive the gift of loyalty. It was what he'd said to Lloyd those years ago, and Lloyd had scoffed until the evidence started coming in. Now, it was one of the biggest perks to working at the firm. That and the pay scale that was always higher than other firms. It had made Harrison and Lloyd into a continent spanning legal powerhouse.

"How long have you been with us at the firm Miss Martin?" He asked, his mind moving along a specified path. It was pssible that her friend had been talkig to her about her work, and harrison was curious as to how much she knew. It would be imprudent and crass to press her about it now, or even in the next few days. But if she was the type to bury herself in work to cope with grief, then he was certainly willing to help her in that regard. "There is an opening in the File processing department at the firm. I don't expect you back at work for a while after tonight, but should you be inclined, I can personally garuntee that there will be a better place than runner at the firm for you."

It was an easy promise to make. The processing department was a rough position, but one that everyone had to wade through to advance. Deadlines were tight, workloads were high, but efficiency was prized, rewarded, and the pay was a significant leg up from runner. Nearly doubled in fact, and there was also never a shortage of overtime for those who wanted it. Because of the pressure of the position, there was always at least one opening for someone. All you needed was someone that ranked a job higher than processing to approve you in. Harrison had little doubt that Bree Larkin would try and block such an approval if it came from anyone below her. On a curious impulse, harrison resolved to see if that had already happened in thr morning.

A small smile came over her face when he once more told her that she owed him nothing. She was immensely grateful and wouldn’t stop to let him know that, just because it was how she was. She was modest, stubborn hen it came to some help since she didn’t want to put anyone out and often thought of herself as a burden. Considering the way she grew up though and having always feared of being a burden or never wanting to come off as overly confident—i.e. conceited—she made sure that she didn’t turn that way and became who she was. Still though, at least it was nice to know that help could be offered to those who asked for it, someone like her even if she didn’t ask for it. But she was grateful and quite accepting of it. She needed it if she did. Though she was hoping that it would just blow over. She wanted to find Abby’s killer and bring them to justice, figure out why it happened and she would put herself into it completely to find the answers. Though she had a feeling not to tell Mr. Trenton about that.
“Again, thank you.”

Looking down at her drink, she moved her hand to it and wrapped her fingers around it and lifted it up to take a sip. Because it was actually so delicious, Esther took more than sip, nearly downing the entire thing. She had maybe a shot left in the glass when she put it back down, a soft sigh coming from her as the amber liquid trailed down her throat, she relishing in that wonderful burning feeling. Looking at him, a brow raised and she tilted her head. Was he really wanting to get into the specifics of her job?

“Almost four years. I started after I graduated. Apparently there is no demand for English teachers in the area. So I’m SOL, so to speak.” She shrugged. “I’ve been working here though since I was eighteen. Helps to be able to live a little bit.” She nodded before picking up her glass again to finish it but was halted when he offered that position. She blinked her eyes quickly before setting it down and clearing her throat. “As much as I really do appreciate that Mr. Trenton, I don’t think I am at all qualified for that. I’m certified in teaching, not file processing. And being a runner is not rocket science.” She said softly. That and she had a feeling she just might fail if she was put to that. She often kept lower expectations for herself because it was easier to accomplish them then to dream bigger. She didn’t want to be a failure. It wasn’t an option.

Although seeking out Abby’s killer and bringing her to justice seemed to be a pretty high achievement and goal for her, but one she was determined to do more than getting a teaching job any time soon. Which said something.

“Honestly, you don’t need to do anything more for me sir.” She knocked back the rest of the glass before setting it down and standing. “You’ve done more than enough. Honestly.” Walking to the bar, she handed the glass to John and he raised a brow at her. Esther simply shook her head before leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Have a good one. And make Mindy like me.” She whispered.
He laughed. “You know that’ll never happen.”
She shrugged. “Bye John.”
“See ya, girlie.” He waved and she turned to wave back at him before walking back to Harrison. “Shall we? I’m sure you’ve got a big day tomorrow. As do I. Otherwise Bree will chew me up and spit me out again for being late.”

Oh yes, she had ever intention to go to work. Nothing would stop her, not this ticking time bomb.

Harrison nodded, and finished his own drink.
"Processing the files is hardly rocket science either. Hectic at times, but not complicated. And four years as a runner is a long time. But I will not press you on this, just know that the offer to place you in the department will stand for as long as you work with us." He said smoothly. Well, she was planning to come into work. That was good, in and of itself, though lmiting herself to a runner, that was not what he'd expected. He honestly felt that if she gave herself th chance she could go far in teh firm, perhaps even getting up to management in the office regions if she had no desire to pursue a full legal career. But he somehow had the impression that she might have other goals and agendas to pursue.

"Indeed, I've little doubt that the police will have left several messages with my office to speak with you tomorrow. Did you wish to speak to them? You've no requirement to of course, adn we cna keep them at bay for as long as is needed." He told her as he led her out of the building. He spared a moment to glance at the doorman, who instantly averted his gaze, not willing to try and look Harrison in the eyes. It was not a terribly noticable movement, but it did please Harrison somehwhat. One more person who had learned their place around him. The investigation by the police didn't bother him overly much. After all, most of them had developed a firm understanding with Harrison. They left him alone, and in exchange, the police never need worry about runnig dry of funding, nor of qualified lawyers to make sure certain criminals went away hard. In that way, Harrison had ensured that people who tried to interfere with his affairs had been brought out the way.

He led her bakc to his car, thankfully unmolested by the area. Doing the gallant thing, he opened and held the car door for Esther, the gesture seeming almost second nature to him, as thought it might be something that he had done often enough to be a reflex. Once she was in, he made the trip back to her apartment easily, not needing the directions repeated. He parked in front of the building.
"Will you be all right alone tonight?" He asked her, only a sense of honest concern in his voice.

She was sure it wasn’t hard to do but the way she saw it was she didn’t want to try and go anywhere. Sure, more pay would be nice so she wouldn’t be stuck with the bare minimum since a lot of her pay check went to paying off school loans but it was worth it. She liked bartending anyways and sure, she was always keeping her eyes open with regards to teaching. She wanted to teach. She had always wanted to be a teacher and she was going to do it. Life happens though and Esther knew herself well and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to teach if she knew that her best friend’s killer wasn’t caught, the case not yet completed properly and no justice in the justice system. It just didn’t sit right!

“I’ll think about it.” She said simply, which she just might but at least it wasn’t really a no and neither was she turning him down and shutting him out. If anything, she didn’t want him to think her ungrateful. She was. Eternally, especially since he didn’t need to do all that he was doing or did.
With a resigned sigh though about the police, she nodded slowly. Even if she wanted to evade it, she couldn’t. It just wouldn’t be the right thing to do. She knew she’d have to talk to them more, especially if this thing was going to get solved. She was required to participate. “I don’t mind talking to them. Maybe it’ll be easier. I mean I’ve told them all I already know. But if they need anything more from me, I’ll be happy to tell them.” It didn’t even occur to her to have mentioned that Abby had something to tell her about the firm. Something big. She thought about it now and wanted to mention it to Mr. Trenton but then decidedly stayed mum. Instead, she left with him from The Spot and walked out.

About to reach open to pull the handle on his car door, she stopped when he did and smiled her thanks before settling in. Buckling up, Esther sat back and enjoyed the quiet ride. While on the way, the alcohol she had downed from before was starting to take a nice hit. It was some really nice scotch and she was a lightweight. It’s not like she got drunk fast and it’s not like she was drunk right now. But any inhibitions were out the window by the time they arrived to her place. She was feeling a little bit…risky.

Looking to him, she tilted her head, unbuckling her seat belt. Was that an invitation? Probably not. And with the way she was thinking, he probably wasn’t thinking that either at all when he asked. Just being kind. But she had some alcohol in her, hadn’t eaten much today or recently as it is. “I think I could be uneasy about being alone tonight. Did you want to come inside?” She crossed a leg over the other and sat back. “I’m sure I could rummage around to find something of your fancy to drink. Would you mind?” The way she saw it, she wasn’t okay. He was offering. And she drank enough to not care at the moment. Why wouldn’t she ask this pretty hunky senior partner lawyer to come inside and stay with her? It was worth a shot at least…

Oh, she hadn’t even though about what she would do if he did say no.

Harrison nodded as she spoke. Talkig to the police was a good move for her, and by doing it in the office, he'd be able to find out exactly what she did know. It was a fine plan. H emade the offer, fully expecting her to turn him down to be honest. She'd been doing so well, it hadn't occurred to himthat she might want someone else on hand in the apartment. But by her stance when she agreed to it, and the offer of further alcohol, it became very, very clear what she was after. All of the reasons to refuse climbed up to the fore of his brain. And then took a step back. He could agree to accompany her to her apartment, and then make sure that this was in fact what she was pursuing.

"Very well Miss Martin. Shall we?" He said calmly, putting his car in park, and shutting it down. Why not? She might be in a bad state to make good decisions, but the fact remained that it might be a good idea to give her a pleasant...diversion. And it would likely only make her trust him further. He gave her a quick look again. And it wasn't as though he found anything about her that would be objectionable. She seemed to have a strong independant streak in her, adn that made him wonder exactly what she might be like. It was with that thought he decided that he would make sure she had to 'talk him into it', but that he would accept any kind of logical reason that she offered.

It was not hidden, her reaction to him agreeing, especially since she was already starting to prepare herself for a slap rejection in the fact that would make her want to crawl under a rock, as opposed to crawling under her duvet and hiding for a good year or the rest of her life. That was just the insecure high school girl that still lived within her. And working at such a prestigious law firm, it was like a grown up high school. Harrison Trenton was part of the jock crowd. Bree was that ugly cheerleader on the inside that ever guy wanted for one taste. Mallory was like the girl who would most likely succeed. She wasn’t well known but well enough to smooth through high school with a breeze and then there was Esther; the outcast and lowly runner trying to climb her way to the top? Hardly. It just didn’t seem harmful for a time with Harrison Trenton. That would at least put some kind of excitement into her life.

As if finding the dead body of her best friend wasn’t enough excitement.
Not the same.

So when he did actually agree at least to come inside for a drink or two, she blinked her eyes a few times before nodding slowly. “Right this way.” Opening the passenger door of his beautiful car, she stepped out and shut it. Looking back, she then proceeded up the path to the stairs of her apartment building, waiting for him as she fished her keys out from her back pocket. She came to the right one and turned the lock after the insertion and stepped in, holding the door open for him. They would go up three flights of stairs, as she lived on the third floor. It wasn’t too bad and it wasn’t the nicest of accommodations for her to live in a building with an elevator. No, this was the bare minimum and perhaps somewhat safe.

Opening the door of her apartment, she stepped inside, holding the door for him as well. Once they were both tucked inside, she shut the door and locked it before setting her keys on the little table by the door and her shoes as well, pushing them into the narrow shoe closet. Looking to him, she looked down at his shoes and smiled. “You can take them off or leave them on. It’s your choice.”

With that, she went to her room and quickly shed her jacket before returning again, still dressed in what she wore to the bar. Going into the kitchen, she knelt down and opened her liquor cabinet and took out a bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin and found a pretty nice bottle of Red Label. She wasn’t sure if he enjoyed that but it was worth a shot. She had others, like Jose Cuervo because she was a major fan of margaritas, both lime and strawberry. She had vodka too and rum but she was going to stick with gin for herself, pulling out the fixing to make a gin and tonic and pulled out a nice glass and poured him two shots in. She made her gin and tonic and then brought them both out to him where she sat down on the couch. “I hope you like Red Label. Because that’s all the scotch I have.” She frowned a little bit, unsure if it’d do him justice compared to Glen Livet but she was going for the punch.

Sipping her gin and tonic, she let out a soft sigh and sat back. “Will you stay the night?” She asked curiously, not even looking at him as she asked. She was very lightly swirling her glass to stir the contents of her drink, staring down at it.

Harrison looked at the apartment. It wasn't the kind of place that he had spent much time in, but he supposed in a way it was a decent nnough place to call home. Especially when a person worked two different jobs. Three floors up without an elevator would make it hard for a a person to cause too much mischeif for the residents, giving it a bit of security. The lock on the door looked newer than the rest of the place. That should make it more secure. He worked his mind through the statement of shoes. Such a small thing really, on or off. But it was actually a small statement in and of itself. It was a tacit condition really. On, it implied he was here for a short time, but didn't want to get too comfortable. Off, it was an open statement, one the implied quite a bit that he was willing to stick things out. With that in mind, he made his choice.

He crouched to remove his shoes with some care. One did not simply dicard a fine pair of John Lobb shoes. Not when one paid better than thrity-six hundred per pair! He set them in the shoe closet, and pause d amoment, looking at the contrast of the new residents with the old. He gave his head a slight shake, and smiled. What was he doing here? This wasn't who he was, he'd grown far beyond this kind of thing. He contemplated putting the shoes back on, but that would have made him seem too indecisive. In for a penny Harrison. Get your head in the game.

She emerged from what he could only assume was her bedroom and returned, sans jacket. The outfit still had an effect on him as she breezed past him to the kitchen. He took the time to study the surroundings. They were far from what he'd grown accustomed to over the years, but he did remember what it had been like for him to be an up and comer, fresh out of law school. It was not a time he regarded fondly. She reemerged, adn st a glass of scotch down. It was a double he noted, poued with the kind of precision that he expected from a long standing bartender. He made the note that at the partnership christmas party, he should offer he the post of tending the bar. It was a good job, offering a generous pay bonus for taking the time, and let a person get to know the top members of the firm. It was also one of the few times that Lloyd actually showed up to meet the people that worked for him.

Red label she had said. Blended. American. As though the Americans could blend anything worth drinking. But regardless, he lifted the glass, and took a pull from teh glass. Not up to his normal standards, but tonight was hardly a night to keep measuring everything, and seeing if it was up to par. He smiled, and took a seat, sitting comfortably, his knees barely a foot and half away from hers.
"I will do perfectly fine." He said smoothly. Blended scotch. When was the last time he'd rank the stuff? Law school, before he'd met Lloyd. Spoiled bastard that Lloyd had been, inheriting everything he ever wanted, he'd taken Harrison under his wing, and Harrison had bcome a rising star ever since. A part of him wondered if she was trying to simply get him drunk before making some kind of move towards him. He did relax a little, letting it seem as though the alcohol was having a effect, though it would take far more to truly get to him.

She didn't meet his eyes when she asked her final question. he was a little shocked at the rather forthright nature of the question. It wasn't what he'd though to hear from her, perhaps a little dancing around the issue, until she finally closed in for a proper strike. But the way she looked when she asked...her mannerism was a stark contrast to how she looked. Her looks exuded a certain confidence in herself, and a certain cock-sure outlook. Now she seemed...fragile. Like she was poised on the edge of shattering into smaller pieces that would take some time to reassemble. Was she really that nervous? But then, she was a runner at the firm with the senior partner in her apartment, her best friend murdered, and with a mild amount of drink in her. She was taking a shot it seemed. Some kind of wild jab at finding some kind of comfort, even if only for a night.

He could leave. Walk out the door, leave her to her grief, leave her to find the pieces of herself, and piece them together, but that would likely alienate her from him on a fairly complete basis. And that would serve no one, least of all him. For the cause he was supporting, he would have to... what, take on for the team? He caught himself before he smiled. es, because spending the night with a woman like this would be such an onerous task. He leaned forward, and very gently rested a hand on her knee. The fabric was softer than he'd expected, and the small patch of skin that he found under his palm was likewise. He waited until she would meet his gaze before speaking.
"Yes. If you want me to." He answered softly, his tone very gentle, holding no trace of anything but the desire to comfort a person. He kept his features soft with a single, barely perceptable smile.

Esther wasn’t sure if she was noticing how he seemed to glance about her apartment—not that she technically saw since she was pouring drinks for them—or if she could see the look in his eye, if it was exuding the judgment towards her place. She knew it was hardly up to par, especially one to meet, greet and cater to a senior partner in. It was the bare minimum. She had one TV but not even cable, just a bevy of DVDs to watch which she rather enjoyed. That’s what every Friday night was after her shift at the bar. Movie night. Lately, Pride and Prejudice, Sweeney Todd and Les Miserables were on repeat in her DVD, the only ones she wanted to watch really and perhaps her three favorite movies.

Situated on the couch and staring down at her drink, she was filled with nerves and a bit of worries because he had yet to answer her question. She had no idea why she was being this way. Well okay, she did know why. It was because of the drinks and she certainly wasn’t going to stop on one gin and tonic. It was properly made the way a bartender like her would know how to make it. She’d been bartending for three years, almost four. She knew how to mix and she had a feeling the knowledge wouldn’t disappear. Not when she enjoyed her drinks as much as she did. No, Esther was not an alcoholic. She could live without it. It was a nice little treat.

Sipping it, she looked up when she felt a warm hand on her knee. She knew it was warm because the knee he touched had the rip on it. Her skin was smooth and soft and his skin was warm. A nice contrast that worked together, like milky way. Her eyes met his and she seemed to almost turn into mush under his gaze and his soft comfort he offered with his words and gestures. She smiled softly, moving her hand over his own and gave a small squeeze before taking it back. She took more of a gulp of her drink rather than a sip and she brought her legs up so they were bent to the side of her. “So, what is there to the Harrison Trenton that is so famous here in our town and at the firm?” She was curious. He was…very serious, so Esther believed him to be. This was like seeing the real man of him. Granted, that’s what she thought. She thought she was seeing the real Harrison Trenton. It’s not like she was going to suddenly feel special about it either. No. She didn’t even know what was going through his head.

At the same time, she didn’t even want to know.

Harrison leaned back, thinking about her statement.
"Hmm, the Harrison Trenton. I honestly don't know if I've met that man." He said calmly, a smile on his face. It had been a while since someone had called attention to the fact that he was widely known as a powerhouse when it came to law, and management. "I think he lives at the office, and in the courtroom. From what I've heard, I think that he does all he can to keep the world at bay a little. I think he makes sure that people see the armoured exterior that he puts up, and think that they've truly met the man. But I think..." He was quiet a second, as though gathering his thoughts up properly. To be honest, he was. It had been a while since he'd had to talk like this. "...I think he only really come out in the quiet moments. Simple times, you know? Answering a call from someone who needs a hand. Making sure they're okay. And maybe with a drink while in good company." He smiled at the last, a smile that seemed to invite a person into his confidence, a friendly smile, not one that he'd worn around Esther before this.

He did take a careful stock of his surroundings. He did note that the TV lacked any external device that allowed calbe or sattelite access, but he took that as a good sin. Most of what was shown on the airwaves was inane prattle and drivel, one was better off without it. Good cinema was rare in these days, but his eyes did pick out he names on a few cases for DVDs. Three were popped open, as though they saw a great deal of use, and that made three fairly solid chices really. Two of them truly classics, and one of them a fascinatingly dark musical choice. Esther seemed to have some reasonable depth to her choices. But with how busy she had to be working the two jobs, to have the time for movies... she must not really get out much beyond working. An insular person, but Harrison had guessed that much from her behaviour. Granted, this was not a night that one should use as a standard of comparison for her normal activities.

It was not often that Harrison felt regret for anything he did, he was actually quite unapologetic. But now, he had the twinge of regret that Esther had bene dragged through so much this night, the loss of her friend, finding the body in such a horrific state. He quashed that regret very easily. It was not in his control, and the fact that one of his employees had found the body gave him all the leeway he needed to represent the person without drawing any suspicion onto himself. But here, now, none of it really mattered. He did what he could to focus on that concept, one that he had also not really followed well since early law school. The here and now was all he'd had then, no real plans for the future, just a bundle of hope that he might manage to land a decent job. He'd drank, partied, done what most had considered really living back then. And then he'd started to refine his tastes, the wild years melting away for ironclad control. And now here he was, wondering if he still remembered how to step out from that wall of control.

Sitting back and really getting comfortable because she had a feeling she was in for quite the lovely tale about Mr. Harrison Trenton, Esther held her glass up and she brought her knees up to her chest, resting the glass on top of one knee and her chin on the other, her eyes on his. She was regarding him casually and listening attentively, though the swimming feeling of alcohol hazing her mind was starting to come into effect. She couldn’t help it. With how fast she had been drinking and how much of a lightweight she was, that and she probably hadn’t eaten since lunch, it meant getting tipsy fast.

As he spoke, she observed him. He seemed unsure at first but then he spoke with more sureness in his tone and even his mannerism of sitting. He seemed relaxed and when he smiled that smile, she felt like she melted inside a little bit. It was a smile that reached his eyes, a more real smile than she was sure he had given to anyone, especially her and she felt this warmth seem to radiate around her, buzzing in a good way. It caused her to sit up, lifting her chin from her knee but her drink stayed standing on her knee. She brought it up though and took a long sip, relishing the tonic water as well as the ample amount of gin with it together. It was a delicious little cocktail.

“I guess I can consider myself truly lucky, Mr. Trenton.” She looked at him as she said this and nodded her head in agreement after. “I mean, I never would have thought that someone like you could take time like this, to help. Not to say that you wouldn’t. I have a feeling you’d help wherever you could that you’re capable of. I just never thought that I’d be the one you’re helping. I never thought you’d be having a drink with me in my home and just…” She shrugged, trailing off as she looked down. She was still so grateful and that much was clear. She probably wouldn’t be able to stop saying thank you. She wouldn’t eve know how to repay him and she wanted to know how she could but she didn’t want to say anything more.

Finishing her drink, she brought her legs down to lean over and set her empty glass on the little coffee table between them. Looking up at him, Esther sat back and she rest her hands in her lap. “Can I get you another?” She pointed to his drink. She didn’t even know if he liked it. She was just trying to be a good host and also say something to fill silence. She wanted to do something, make a kind of gesture but she wasn’t sure if she was brave enough, even if she managed to bring him inside and get him to stay the night. She certainly didn’t want him to sleep on her couch…

But then again, how do you seduce a man as accomplished as Harrison Trenton? Someone who could probably see through her intentions and was probably humoring her or taking pity? Ugh, right now, she didn't have an inhibition in her to care. Tomorrow...well that would surely depend on the night, wouldn't it?

Harrison took a long look at the empty glass he held. Another. That was a statement too, as much as the shoes coming off had been. Well, maybe not as much. It was still something for him to feel he needed to consider very carefully. He also had to wonder whether he wanted to subject himself to another glass of American made alcohol. But what were his options otherwise? Refuse it, and leave them at an awkward silent moment? Accept it, and down another, wondering where teh night would truly lead? He was not completely sure she was even sure where she wanted to go with things. It was clear to him that she was rapidly losing the battle with the alcohol that she'd ingested. Frankly, if he did ask for the new drink, he might be carrying her to bed to sleep it off. While the thought did amuse him somewhat, he had the sneaking suspicion that she'd likely be overly embarrassed about the experience. And that wouldn't do. Not one bit.

A younger Harrison would have likely made an overt come on to her by now, not caring if he succeeded or failed, the fun was in the attempt. That man was long dead though, too many possible consequences of failure. Or were there? It was a moment that did call for some brief reflection. She was not unwilling if he made his guess right, and he was barely guessing at this really. He was rather confident to be honest. He highly doubted she'd invited him to stay the night based on the thought of him sleeping on her couch so she could talk to him in the morning. After all, she could have managed a phone call for that, or simply spoken to him at work if that was what she wanted. She'd also made no attempt to change out of her rather provocative get up. Controlled he might be, but he was not dead! And he firmly believed that would be the only acceptable state for a man to be in to not be affected by her in this state.

He weighed his options. If she did get up to fix him a drink, it might give him a narrow window in which to act. It might be a longer shot, and one that left a good deal to chance, and interperatation. but what he felt now was that it was worth a try. And if it failed, well, he'd deal with the fallout however he had to. He smiled at Esther, that same smile that seemed so very genuine, so very...warm. Almost intimate.
"Contrary to what so many people may tell you, at the end of the day, I'm still just a man. Not a king, or a lord, or anything but a man. You're a good employee for the firm Miss Martin, and we look after our own." He paused there as though wondering if he should speak past this point, but ultimately coming to the conclusion that he should. "And more than that. More importantly, you are a good person, and that is something that should never be made light of. So yes, I think I might like another drink. Thank you Esther." He used her first name carefully, a festure of familiarity that would either strike her as to friendly, or give her the hint that he was truly opening up to her, and warming to her considerably.

As if he was contemplating something, Esther couldn’t help but watch him. She didn’t mean to stare but really, when he was involved, it was difficult to look away. He was really handsome and she knew a little fledgling like herself would be thought honored to ever have a day or just a minute with him, anywhere. Just a moment of his attention. She was stunned she hadn’t melted already in front of him. Maybe there was just so much going on and at the end of the day with a bit of alcohol in her, she was starting to see. Harrison Trenton was such a babe and not even in that seasoned way. He had to be a good ten years older than her and while that fact was incredibly appealing and hot, he didn’t look a day over twenty-six. He kept himself in good condition, this she could see with how he must pamper himself and treat himself to his constant designer valuables. Esther just never spent much time in the office or outside of him, thinking of him or noticing.

When he finally spoke, her eyes averted immediately. She wouldn’t ever know what he truly thought of her. Not that she cared. Did she? Okay, maybe a part of her cared but that was just the little high school part of her who would have given anything to walk side by side beside a man like Harrison Trenton.

His voice was comforting as he spoke and she nodded her slowly, looking up at him when he called her a good employee and that they look after their own. It was nice to know and feel since she didn’t have family. None that she knew of and none she wanted to know of. All the ones she loved were gone. She was the only Martin she knew of alive. She always did think the firm was like a family. Sometimes she certainly didn’t think that because of Bree Larkin. She just didn’t get it sometimes.

He was right, at the end of the day he was still just a man but it was easy for a man like him to say something like that, while someone like her who was just a fledgling compared to him, might say otherwise, even at the end of the day. “You’re still quite a man in my book Mr. Trenton. For that, I thank you.” She stood now and took his glass when he accepted another and grabbed hers as well, walking into the kitchen.

She pulled the bottles of liquor from where she put them away and got her tonic water from the fridge. She put three ice cubes in hers before making a new gin and tonic, a little heavier on the gin. Just a little bit. Then she poured him two and a half shots of the Red Label scotch. She took her time, well not too much time but she worked carefully. Being a bartender, one never forgot how to mix drinks. It just stuck because of the training and hours going in to perfect a certain routine. When she picked up her glass to take a sip, the condensation from the ice before made it a bit slippery and she didn’t realize or think about it in her current state. It slipped from her hands and hit the counter half and then the rest shattered on the ground. She stepped back since she was barefoot and groaned softly.

Being careful of where she stepped, she grabbed a dustpan and knelt down only to stop when she saw more liquid than smashed glass. With a sigh, she got up again after placing the dustpan beside her and grabbed her roll of paper towels. Kneeling back down again, she put some over the mess, wanting the alcohol to get soaked up. Mistaking a small piece of glass for ice, she winced when it ended up cutting her palm a little bit. “Mother—“ She grumbled as she examined it, plucking the little shard of glass out that wasn’t deeply in but enough to make blood come out. Maybe this was a sign she should no be making drinks while a bit inebriated?

Standing, she hopped over the mess and went to the sink to run her hand under some cool water. It felt divine since she cut herself in the middle of her palm. She put all her weight on one foot, one hip sticking out and she closely examining her hand. Clearly, drinks became forgotten but for a good reason.