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Where: Drunken Semaphore

When: April 02, 2012

What: It happens sometimes, in friendly competition.

Not everyone drinks on a Monday night. One might say most people don't. But college kids are another lifeform. And given that she hardly ever has to buy her own drinks in here, it is one of Rylie's favorite weekday hang outs.

So sitting at the bar, some red, fruity drink in front of her, the blonde is just brushing off some guy who really wanted to take up the seat next to her. He looks pretty dejected as he walks back to his friends, who mock and laugh as he sits back down. But Rylie, she doesn't even watch.

"-o in here and have a drink while we wait" This spoken by a tall and chiseled man. To those in the know - or the Mayors office since he lunches often enough with him - It's the VP of the Crain Corporation. Not that half the people in here would know it. He weaves through the Monday night bustle, coming up to the bar but leaving space between him and Rylie for the man with him to either take up or leave open.

They said it would be an hour. I'm not in a hurry. Are you okay with this?"

"I could always use a drink," the chinese man agrees amiably, as he steps in. Known at Crain as Wei, or Mr. Chao, but he goes by 'Chipper' at the casinos, or Chip. Either way. Chip offers a big grin to Gordon, and sidles up to the bar in his expensive suit, his well-styled hair, and he's certainly not one to miss a pretty lady. "Why hello there," he greets, one brow lifting over his grin. "This seat taken?"

When Rylie turns, she may be ready to shoo them of, too, but it's not a pair of totally unfamiliar faces. "Mister Crain," she greets with a smile. It may not be working hours, but it's still a good idea to be good to your boss' associates.

"No, of course, have a seat," she says to Chipper, seeing as he's a friend of the more well known man. She holds a hand out toward him, manicured nails and soft skin, "I'm Rylie. Rylie Abrams."

"The Mayors girl friday" Gordon tilts his head just so in greeting before raising a hand to flag down the bartender. An orderof whiskey, doesn't matter what, no ice. "Behave Wei. I need her boss next week" There's a wink to her as he waits for the drink to come, for wei to order what he wants, bringing out his wallet to peel off a twenty.

"Scotch and soda," Wei puts in, before he takes Rylie's hand, and lifts a brow. "The mayor's, huh? Yes, boss," he echoes, with a grin, and he leans over in a comical sort of bow. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Rylie Abrams. I'm Wei Chao, but most just call me Chipper." And, releasing her hand, he peels his expensive coat jacket off and slings it onto the back of his stool-chair, before he spins it around and slumps into it in ~style~. "So what brings you here on a Monday night, huh?"

"That's me. Nice to see you off the schedule," Rylie smiles crookedly at the pair of them as she takes her hand back to rest it around her glass. "Apparently, what brings me here is watered down drinks and surprise company. And it's good to meet you, Chipper. Don't listen to him, behaving is boring."

"Who says that I am off the clock. Even when I'm sleeping, I'm thoroughly on the clock" His drink is clunked down in front of him, Wei's too and he proffers the bill. "A round, on me, for everyone at the bar" Peeling more off. "While I'm here" you never know when some of the people in here might eventually work for them. Best be memorable. "Young things. Misbehaving. I suppose I can look a blind eye"

Chipper nods at Gordon. "Thanks, boss," he offers with a cheeky grin, which is then turned toward Rylie and brightened. "Oh, I like your style! Gordon should know me better than that." He smirks at the other man, and then lifts his scotch and soda for a sip. "So generous," he comments, on the round of drinks. "So tell me about yourself, Miss Rylie Abrams. I'm always interested in those of a … like-minded philosophy."

"Well, I'm off the clock, either way." Rylie can only grin when he buys a round for the whole place and she just taps her glass to let the bartender know she just wants another of what she has in front of her. But to Chipper, she laughs, arms folding on the bar as she leans his way. "What me? Just a secretary. Who sometimes likes a drink or a dance. A good time. And what about you, then. You're not his gal Friday, I hope."

Gordon snorts at that concept.

Chipper grins brightly at Rylie, and laughs. "Naw, not his gal Friday. His hitman." He winks, and aims a finger gun, supporting it with his other hand, and pkeww! Shoots at the back of the bar. "I once killed ten mobsters with a single bullet. Straight through the eye, lined up like bowling pins. I kid you not." He lifts his brows, nodding like this is the truest thing in the world.

"Chipper, do you actually know how bowling pins are set up?" Rylie glances to the back of the bar, but back to the man next to her again, amused. "I haven't had enough of these," she says, picking up her drink and shaking it gently, "for stories like that."

'What he fails to tell you is that it was on his smartphone, and he was alone at his desk when I caught him slaying those mobsters. I yanked him up by the scruff of his neck and dragged him out for a dinner. And then our car broke down and I decided to chance a drink in here" Gordon looks to Rylie with a smile on his face, lingering perhaps a little too long on her eyes.

Chipper gives her an innocent shrug. "There was an angle," he offers to Rylie, before he huffs at Gordon. "That wasn't mobsters. That was space aliens. Completely different concept. And anyway, you're ruining my mojo. That's not a fun story. Life should be nothing but fun stories." He scoffs, and takes a drink, rolling his eyes a bit.

Rylie laughs a little more genuinely when Gordon outs his companion, head falling back a moment. But when she straightens, a strand of her blonde hair falls in her face, which only gets a little in the way of her looking back at Gordon. "They should hire you two as the entertainment. Or do you just put this one for audiences of one?"

"WHy don't you join us and find out. I was giving Wei here a ride home since I had appropriated him for the evening. Let me appropriate you, find some place-" He leans in, Wei between her and him and thus able to hear "- Perhaps a bit more of a better class, and not so… collegiate?" Gordon looks up to Chip with an expectant gaze. "You'll wait for the tow truck yes? Call the car service to get a ride home" Cockblocking, by your boss. Sucks.

Chipper's brows lift as Gordon maneuvers in for the team — his team — and he apparently refuses to be outdone. He whips out a business card — marked in poker chips and touting him as Chipper Chao — and offers it to her with a warm smile. "Well. When you figure out how much of a snore Gordon is, feel free to look me up. We can chat sometime, have lunch. Play a few rounds of cards." He winks, and then slides off his chair, slinging his jacket over his shoulder with a sigh. "I'll wait for the tow truck, yes. Sheesh."

When she's jut about to open her mouth to reply, Rylie is met with a business card. She takes it between two fingers, saying her farewells to Chipper with a quick wink of her own. A see you later instead of a goodbye. But as she turns to Gordon, she offers her hand out his way, "It's an offer far too tempting to say no to." It might make work strange, but she doesn't seem to be worried about it.

Gordon does not adhere to the bro code it seems. But Chipper might not be too bad off in the end. He takes her hand, settling it on the corner of his elbow, leaving barely touched whiskey in his wake. It'll be easy to hail a cab for the two of them. "Take tomorrow off Wei. You did well tonight" Maybe make the sting of having a pretty bird under your wing snatched away.

"Lets go see what trouble we can get into on a Monday night. If we stay out too late, I'll talk to the Mayor" Ahh Gordon, he does love the young things.

"Yeah, yeah." Chipper offers Rylie his most charming smile, as well as a wink and a salute, and as he takes the last of his scotch and soda and downs it, setting his glass back. "Miss Abrams, I'll see your pretty face later. Gordon? Eh, I'll see your pretty face day after tomorrow, I guess. I'll let you know how it goes." And with that, he strolls out of the bar, coat in hand, whistling to himself.

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