2011-02-08: Behind the Blue Door



Date: February 8, 2011


Evette attempts to plant seeds of discord in George's personal life.

"Behind the Blue Door"

Blue Door, Washington, DC

For once, it is she that changes the schedule. Evette cancels his meeting to ask him to dinner. She didn't even sound drunk. The woman sits there with her designer, dark shades on as she waits for the man. Eve's leg swings in a haphazard fashion that bespeaks of her agitated state. The maitre'd is ready to pounce the moment George shows himself. It is a beautiful place for dinner as couples can be hidden in dark corners and businessmen can impress clientele. For now, there is an air of expense and the calm that comes with money to spend.

Ah yes, that meeting. Four straight hours of listening to a pair of lobbyists flog the same talking points they'd been running into the ground since… well, going back to the other election he was in, and probably further. His suggestions to change up their approach invariably fell on deaf ears, and he couldn't just blow them off without picking up some fallout elsewhere. So when the Queen of Scheduling called at the last minute, to do what she never does? Lucky break, that.

Again. It gets uncanny after a while. A few members of staff have commented on it, but none of them have put two and two together.

Arriving at the restaurant at last, he glances around, spotting Evette a half-second before the waiter points her out. "So!" he offers, sounding cheerful. "What's the emergency?"

Those dark sunglasses move up towards the man. Evette offers a political smile. "Can I not just wish to have dinner with my dearest friend?" Her words are that sultry purr that always have no effect upon him. Sadly. "I met Alexandra…" It is here that the glasses come off and the black eye is for his eyes to see.

George settles into the seat opposite, indeed stonewalling her flirting like he always does. 'Dearest friend' my ass. Then he squints, studying the bruise, and shakes his head. "How did you—" Alexandra. Oh, of course. "You called me a man-slut again. Didn't you? Jesus, how many times do we need to go through this before you get it, anyway?"

Evette watches him for a few moments. "No." The word leaves her lips. "She did speak to me as if I should have known her and I did not." There is a shrug and hoist of her shoulders. "This was from a guy during the bar fight. Lovely look for me don't you think?" She drops her eyes to the menu. "Like I told her, who you sleep with is none of my concern unless they cause a scandal."

"Well, of course you didn't," replies George, "I wasn't about to give you her name. What if she woke up one morning with a horse's head on her pillow, or her pet rabbit boiling on the stove or something?" This is what happens after the same bone of contention keeps coming up for months on end. Okay, two months, but still.

"I heard a little about that," he continues, more calmly now. "The one made the TV news? What actually happened— they only got bits and pieces, not like they were sent there to cover it."

Evette looks at him for a few moments. "She's totally unsuited for you and your life. You should end things before they get messy." She seems assured they will, but really Eve thinks all of humanity is a failure. There is a soft smile to that before she straightens her legs comfortably. Her feet brush against his legs, but it is not a flirtatious gesture, nor a kick.

"Well, the two men seemed to be fighting over something. It seems to be it was a girl, however your little strumpet was getting all upset that you haven't been telling me about her. Sad really. It's as if she's a clingy type who needs constant assurances that her man mourns her when not around." There is a roll of her eyes. "Which reminds me. Monday. You have to take that social committee's daughter to the dinner. Don't worry. She's not a party girl. Just pose for photo ops and we secure the votes and all that stuff."

Evette is silent for a moment of thought before she gracefully looks around the area. A waiter comes for food ordering then. "I'll have a bottle of Voss still please." Her eyes seek George's now.

Of course George looks all sour as Evette runs down his girlfriend. Surely she wasn't expecting him to do otherwise? His lips perk up at the mention of the daughter, though: "Shows what you know. She is a party girl— for the other team, I couldn't get in her pants even if I wanted to." He waves the waiter off, requesting an appetizer that may or may not be followed by an actual main course.

"Oh, don't think I don't know that." Evette offers with a smile. "First of all, I'm hired to know all people that you are to go out with for business." Alexandra's background check and stuff is waiting in Evette's inbox probably as they speak. "Secondly, you might not be able to get in her pants, but I could." Sadly she doesn't play for the all girls sports team. Her hand reaches out to set upon his at the sour look. Nothing is said immediately though.

George laughs, shaking his head. "I'd pay good money to see the look on your face the day after that. Anyway, I talked to her a little bit the other day, I think she knows the drill pretty well. Today's pointless waste of time got pushed to Thursday, if I'm lucky it'll get bumped from there to next month. What else have we got coming up before I leave town again?" Because he already knows the first place he's going after that.

Evette smiles as her hand is on his. It is a supportive gesture, not that hitting on gesture. She goes back and forth. "Oh, comeon George. You know Alexandra is a bad match for you and that you should end it now. You don't want another Hallis scandal do you?" Her smile grows a bit and then she seems to think it over. "Well there it the dinner on Monday with our reformed party girl. There are a bunch of meetings. However, if you want out of them, I imagine something will come up for you." She starts to pull back her hand as she watches him just a bit more intently.

"You," George points out, "have never seen her with me. You've seen her with you—" Does she really not get how that would throw things off, or is she amusing herself again by playing dumb? He throws his hands up in the air, dspairing of figuring it out. "I can only push so far. Besides, if I wanted out of all the work, I would've let Dennis win… it wouldn't have taken all that much, to be honest." There was no foot-shooting moment like the one from the first election; they may well be facing off again in a couple more years.

Evette watches him for a moment and frowns at something. She truly frowns as if something didn't work quite right. Her head tilts to study him. "Hmmm." For the moment, that is her own response. It is then she is saved by delivered water in a bottle.

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