Rita walked ahead of Chris, and after a few seconds of scanning the room, found an unoccupied table. As she sat, Rita returned her attention to her environment. She noted, with very little surprise, the extreme attractiveness of just about everyone in the club. Having grown up in Palm Beach, Rita was used to being surrounded by beauty, people included.
Chris conducted a perusal of his own, and he, too, noticed the abundance of beautiful people, though his attention was only on the females. There are so many gorgeous blondes here, he thought to himself, that they cancel each other out. They don't stand out at all, not like Rita does. Chris shot his partner an appreciative glance. He continued looking at her, until his actions filtered into his brain. Immediately, he felt guilty for his thoughts. God, Lorenzo, calm down, he ordered himself. She's your best friend. This mental pep talk was accompanied by a couple of small smacks to his forehead and the repetition of the word "Stupid". Chris might have continued, but he noticed that Rita was looking at him as though he had finally lost his already tenuous hold on sanity.
"What's wrong?" She asked, keeping her tone light, though concern was evident in her words.
Chris felt like a jerk, a sensation that was becoming alarmingly familiar. He wondered how much of Rita's concern would still be there if he told her what he had been thinking.
"It's nothing," he mumbled, "I just, uh, forgot to set my VCR."
"Oh, poor baby," Rita said, seeming to buy his hastily put together excuse. "What were you going to tape?"
"The baseball game. Mets versus the Dodgers, should be a good game. Those two teams are actually responsible for some of my happiest childhood memories. I had one team on each coast, one parent on each coast. It balanced out. We were always getting free tickets to games…Anna, because of her fame, my father because his rich clients liked showing their gratitude. That's one good thing about my parents, I guess." Although Chris had no idea which teams were playing each other, everything else he said was true. Being around Rita made him feel like he could tell her things he'd never told anyone else, tell her everything…well not EVERYTHING. His thoughts of late were disturbing enough, and telling Rita had absolutely no appeal.
The pair of Sams sat around for a few minutes, talking about unimportant things and making the small gestures a couple normally would. Rita was just putting her hand over Chris's to emphasize a point when a man walked up to them. He was a tall man with jet-black hair, and in his all black suit- designer, Rita noted- he looked ready for business. His gray eyes, coupled with his classic features, should have made him a spectacular looking man, but for some reason, they didn't. To both Chris and Rita, who'd stopped speaking and were staring at their uninvited guest, there was something slightly sinister about the man. If asked, they probably wouldn't have been able to say what it was, but they were both of the opinion that it detracted from his handsomeness.
Only when he was sure that he had their complete attention did the man speak.
"Hello, Ashleigh and James. We're so happy you've joined us tonight," he said in a slightly accented voice. From this accent, the description the Cap had given them, and their sources on the street, Chris and Rita knew this man was one of the members of the Russian drug ring they were supposed to bring down.
"Thank you, Mr. Davidovna, it's our pleasure to be here," Rita said, adopting the accent of her youth, knowing it spoke of money. She'd started speaking with her present accent when she figured out that it helped her blend in better and not mark her as a -formerly- wealthy person. She got a jolt of pleasure when she noted the confusion of Davidovna. It was evident that he was confused about how she knew his name. The possibility that the same sources who had supplied him with information about Ashleigh and James- information manufactured by police and passed on to the usual rats- had given just as detailed reports of Davidovna and his entire operation clearly did not occur to the Russian.
"Just as you know who we are, we know who you are. We have our sources," Chris said, his pattern of speech matching Rita's. He smiled, a predatory bearing of teeth that further disconcerted Davidovna.
"Yes, eh, if you please, come with me to my office. It is not as noisy there and we will be able to discuss business." Clearly, the man was used to being in control. The fact that Rita and Chris knew at least as much about him as he did about them had taken away any advantage he might have had over them.As the two rose to leave, Chris and Rita shared a look. They both knew that no matter what happened, busting this drug ring would defintely be interesting.