A/N: Thanks for the feedback everyone. Okay so I'm going to continue on with the story. A heads up this will only be in Emma's POV. Her character is going to be a little different than my normal portray of her. She's promiscuous, enjoys plant based psychedelics when partying, self-indulgent, and low-key narcissist. and there may be times when you dislike, hate, or loath her. This is my apology in advance! Anyway, on with the story…
I spun the empty shot glass underneath my fingers as I observed my surroundings. A lot of drunk assholes were joking around like they were the shit. And unfortunately one of those assholes was pushed by his buddies and went flying into a table, knocking a woman's drink off it, only to turn around and whistle like he didn't just fuck everything up. All the while, his best buddies snickered behind him like it was the funniest thing in the whole damn world.
Sighing heavily, I glanced out the window to see the grey clouds of the sky hovering around the tip of the skyscrapers, like a warning for anyone who dared to come out: You will get wet!
I sure hope Neal and this Reg person knew how to get around the city, or they might come in drenched and upset. And if they really are new to Manhattan like Jefferson said, then they really will have a tough time fitting in, already showing themselves as a pathetic and wimpy transplant to every person in this city. That would be strike one.
I huffed lowly, checking my smart watch. They are twenty minutes late. Rolling my head towards Jefferson, who was doing his best to avoid all eye contact with me, I held my watch out to him and tapped the screen, "They've got eight minutes J."
"Oh come on. Of course they're going to be late. They're new. They probably looked at the GPS and really thought the location was only fifteen minutes away." Oh my god. Regardless of what the GPS says, always leave a minimum of thirty minutes before the estimated amount of travel time. Strike two.
"Where are they coming from anyway?"
"I think…Staten Island."
And I'm out.
Strike three. I stood from our private booth, rummaging around my leather jacket for my wallet.
"Wait," Jefferson grabbed my arm, yanking me back down, "They don't live there. I think that's just where they are coming from. Besides where will you go? Banshee? You've already fucked every single person there," Doesn't matter, I'd rather re-fuck everyone in at Banshee than hang out with people from Staten Island, "Wait, look there he is!" he shouted in my ear.
Okay, I see why Jefferson was head over heels for this guy. No one feature made him handsome, though his eyes come close. You could see his honesty, his intensity, and his gentleness. His smile turned heads, shining brightly as he got closer and closer to us. Jefferson slid out of the booth, with his arms open.
"Hey babe." Neal greeted, clearly checking out Jefferson, his eyes never left the toned arms until they wrapped around his waist. They pulled apart and soon the dark brown eyes were on me, "Hey, nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you." I reached out and shook his hand.
"Oh shit, sorry. Neal this is Emma Swan, my boss."
Neal raised a skeptically eyebrow as he slowly brought his hand back to his side, "And his best friend." I added, sending a confused look to Jefferson who was clearly nervous. Bruh relax, "I've heard so much about you. Nice to put a face to the name."
"Likewise. Jefferson talked about you so much I thought you were his girlfriend," There was something in his voice that I couldn't tell if it was jealousy or relief, "Reggie should be here soon," So okay, his plus one is a man. Cool, cool, cool. Welp this extreme amount of awkwardness has been fun but it's time to fucking go. Not to mention, the mushrooms I took should be working their magic in about five minutes, so…
Slipping on my jacket I was about to say my goodbyes when a figure by the entrance caught my eye. Deep brown, inexperienced eyes took in the scene of the contemporary Manhattan sky-rise bar with its three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view. Hesitant in body movement she scanned the room, clearly out of place. I continued to stare, mouth slightly agape as I gazed at her beautiful profile. She had the kind of face that made you stop in your tracks and I guessed she wasn't use to it.
I've gotten it so much that I'm certainly use to it and can spot it when it happens, the sudden pause in a person's natural expression when they looked my way followed by overcompensating with a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. Of course the blush that accompanied it was a dead give away. The first thing I noticed were her heels. Black and expensive. Tan, toned, long legs flexed underneath the weight of her heels as she moved across the bar. Her red skintight dress ended around the middle of her thigh and my eyes traveled up the slender hips and waist where a black belt sat for decoration rather than use. The sultry dress ended just above her breast showing off her beautiful chest.
"Holy shit." I whispered, unable to take my eyes off the fair amount of cleavage showing under the v-cut. Her face was beautiful, she had a bright smile, full pump lips covered in 'fuck me' red lipstick, grinning as if she were actually excited to be here and sparkling chestnut brown eyes accompanied her cheery yet edgy exterior. Her brown hair flowed in nice wavy curls over those fit shoulders and ended just above her breast. She waved and when Neal waved back I was shocked. Reggie isn't a guy.
And my stomach dropped. My fellow city dwellers were going to kill her. New York she would not survive.
The first thing a couple men did was stop, their drinks barely secured in their loose grip to blatantly exclaim, "Woah!" at which I momentarily cringed at. Really? Please be more subtle in the fact that you can't contain your raging hormones, fucking idiot. If she heard the remark she didn't show it, just simply moved through the crowd and over to us. Dipping behind Neal she placed her also expensive purse on the table I had got for us and greeted Jefferson. When her eyes landed on me I felt my stomach flop. Butterflies? I've never gotten butterflies. I usually give the butterflies.
"This is my best friend and sister, Regina Mills." Oh Reg. Reggie. Regina. Now it makes sense.
"Hello." She greeted and fuck, her voice was amazing. Raspy yet velvety at the same time. Jefferson returned the hello but all I could do was give her a small nod. Her lips tugged up at the corner and a tiny smile was directed towards me.
"So what do you think?" Jefferson asked to Neal, "It's nice right?"
"I mean it's a bar." Regina responded, clearly uninterested which made me chuckle lowly. Maybe she's one of those Ivy League preppy types. Generally I'm fairly solid at reading people and I made it my mission to figure which category to place Regina in. She cares about her appearance with the way she's dressed and everything is name brand so she definitely has money. Now whether that's her own money or mommy and daddy's money is left to be seen. It would be refreshing for someone to make their wealth for a change because a lot of people around here have had everything handed to them, especially money and haven't had to work hard a day in their life.
"Shut up," Neal brushed his shoulder against his sister's, "It's very nice. Thank you Jefferson," A bartender came over and placed fours shots on the table, sending me a wink as she walked away, "You know her?" Neal continued, eyeing me closely.
"Emma knows everyone." Jefferson answered with an easiness floating in his voice, knowing this isn't at all what he wanted to talk about but would put up with it, for a little bit anyway.
"I know everyone except for one person." Shooting my gaze to Regina, she looked around before realizing I was talking about her. I waited for the blush to flood her cheeks but instead she raised her right eyebrow, scoffing lowly. She placed her elbow on the table, making a fist to rest her cheek on it and leaned forward, keeping her long brown hair between us. I couldn't see her face to try and read her emotions in her clear, deep eyes. Why was she trying to hide those eyes from me? Out of fear? Shyness? Attraction? Annoyance?
Interesting…
Music began to pump around us as I felt frustration and impatience work its way through my body, fucking up my high. Jefferson began moving in his seat and I hoped he would go so I could analyze this woman more.
"Come on, Neal. Let's dance." Yas! Immediately he nodded, earning a punch from Regina.
"What?" he whispered lowly but I didn't hear the rest due to Jefferson pushing me out of my seat. Neal apologized to her as he began to scoot, "You'll be fine," he assured, sending her a wink and pulled Jefferson to the dance floor. I took my seat directly across from the curious woman, demanding her eye contact as I forced myself in her view.
"So, I take it you were also dragged here tonight?" I used my softer voice when I wanted to make people feel comfortable but all it seemed to do frustrate her more.
"Yup." Regina said, popping the 'p' at the end.
"You heading anywhere after this?"
The little pucker between her eyebrows told me she was confused, taking a half second longer than it should've to respond, "Nowhere special."
"Well," I leaned in, shifting my mouth into a crooked smile, "I could change that for you." Nope. Never say that again. That was horrible. Very late 90's.
Once again she rolled her eyes, her face emotionless, "Not sure how my husband would feel about that."
The air around me thinned, clearly she's not swayed by me, but my flirting is also effortless. Guess I'm a little off tonight. And suddenly I felt my face heat up. Is this what it feels like to be embarrassed? Usually it's one look and the women begin to swoon. They knew me, knew my reputation, knew what great lay I am and lined up to throw themselves in my bed every night. But maybe Regina was the faithful type and who actually believed in the sanctity of marriage.
Yawn.
I took my eyes off the confusing albeit attractive person in front of me and to the wet city streets. I felt like I was out of my body and realized the mushies had finally kicked in. Thank God, I couldn't handle this level of bland sober, "It's too bad about the rain isn't it?" I switched the pace to a boring but standard topic. The weather-always safe.
But Regina stared at me with obvious doubt. A strange reaction to a very normal question, "No not really."
Okay so, even this topic won't steer this conversation back to trite paths. Based off her tan she had to be from a much warmer, sunnier place, "What you don't like the rain?" I guessed.
"No. Or the cold. Or the humidity."
"So you wanted to move to New York?" The sarcasm in my tone might have been off putting, not at all what you'd use to keep a conversation going.
"I didn't want to move here. My husband got a job out here and I came to be with him," I tried to hold it back but I couldn't, my lips smacking at the absurdity of it all, "What's that about?" Regina questioned as she folded her arms across her chest followed by raising an accusatory eyebrow.
Normally I wouldn't have bothered to respond, but there was something about her that made me want to answer, "I've never understood how people can sacrifice their own life to be with someone and call it love," My tone might've been too nonchalant, but I didn't care. Her lips parted for a moment as her eyebrows raised and I could see that she was suspended in shock, that is until her lids narrowed to slits and her mouth remained tight. She opened her mouth to respond but to my luck Jefferson and Neal made their way back to the booth, both sweaty and out of breath.
Perfect. Now I can leave because this is the worst date I've ever been on and it's not even my date. I stood so they can slide in, solely keeping my gaze on Regina's leg bouncing up and down.
"I think we're going to-" but Neal couldn't even get out the next word before Regina stood and collected her things, avoiding all eye contact with me.
"Yea I'm going to head out, but call me later, k?" she said to her brother, leaning over to kiss his cheek and shimmied her way out of booth, "Lovely meeting you Jefferson," finally she turned towards me, her stoic features giving me nothing, not even frustration, "Emma." She nodded to me but that was it. She shuffled forward, accidentally hitting my left side sending currents of heat up my arm that settled in my core, "Oh sorry," she mumbled and straightened her clothes with such that poise that I almost believed her apology.
I huffed, exasperated for a remark because I certainly wasn't expecting to feel whatever the fuck that was. Finally I muttered "No problem," but she was out of ear shot, already halfway to the door.
So what that I couldn't peg her the second we locked eyes? So what that it seems like she'll be able to handle her own out here in the city?
Regina was hot.
But so what?
None of that explains why I didn't know how to act normal around her. Correction, I couldn't act normal around her and that bothered me. A lot.