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[personal profile] rohanson
Happens the night after Paris and Sean meet

We got the contract.

I phoned and left a message for Dave on his cell, but I guess Faramir is working, as he hasn’t rung back yet.

But there’s celebrating to be done, and after we’d finished giggling madly and hugging each other, Ryssa and I sat the guys down and told them the good news. Ryssa’s slotted in nicely as part of the team, despite their initial reaction at having some well spoken Brit woman coming to work with me. She acknowledges that they know what they’re doing and listens to their ideas and concerns, which makes them happy. And she’s not afraid to get her hands dirty either, which surprised them.

We’re a good way into the latest stable project, and well ahead of schedule, so I decided we could all do with a break, and took everyone out for a drink. We ended up making an evening of it, and when Ben and Adam decided it was time they called it a night, I suggested that Ryssa sleep over at the warehouse, save getting a taxi to her place.

Ryssa: It’s been a long time since I’ve been this … well, squiffy. And I can’t remember eating anything tonight so as we walk … tumble in through the back door, I spot a menu for the Chinese takeaway place pinned on the wall, and grab it, waving it at Paris.


Paris: “Starving! Order what you like and stick it on my tab. I’ll find us something to drink.” I pull open the wine cooler and examine the bottles, finally finding what I want on the bottom row. Champagne, the real stuff, all the way from France. Steve gave it to me when I started the business and told me to keep it for a special occasion, and this is a special occasion so … the cork pops, flying round the room making you squeak.

Ryssa: The cork pings off the wall by the phone and I get a fit of giggles. “Sorry, sorry, yes I do want to put an order in. For delivery as soon as possible. We’re very hungry.” I run my finger down the list. “Hmmm … we’ll have some crispy wantons and some vegetarian spring rolls.” I smile at you.

Paris: There are a couple of very pretty long stemmed glasses in the cupboard and I reach for them, but bite my lip. Delicate … long stemmed … and small. No. Closing the cupboard, I search for something better to drink out of.

Ryssa: “… a couple of fried taro cakes … hmmmm … better make that four. An order of steamed pork buns and do you do a vegetarian version? Good, an order of those too.”

Paris: Looking over your shoulder I point at my favorite.

Ryssa: “… some deep fried tofu cubes. They aren’t for me. Oooh! Jumbo prawns …”

Paris: Glasses … glasses … I have more, but I can’t quite remember where they are. Oh! I know what’ll be better. A couple of Dave’s half pint mugs should do the trick.

Ryssa: “Um … chicken with cashew nuts … broccoli with straw mushrooms … special fried rice … better make that two …

Paris: I pour the champagne out, making sure we get exactly half each.

Ryssa: “… a couple of portions of soft noodles in sesame and do you do chips? Fries? Whatever you call them here? You do? Lovely! Two bags please …

Paris: Mmmmm … fries. I’m so hungry I could eat a horse … oh no, that’s not a good expression to use … for a whole pile of reasons.

Ryssa: “… and a couple of orders of toffee bananas. How long will that be? Half an hour? Okay, thank you!”

Paris: Half an hour. That’s the only thing about getting stuff delivered. Having to wait for it. I grab a bad of cranberry and Wensleydale kettle chips left over from Christmas and open them, tipping them into a bowl as you join me.

Ryssa: Grinning, I pick up my mug and raise it to yours.

Paris: Smiling from ear to ear, I clink my mug against yours, causing bubbles to run down our fingers. “To us. May this be the start of big things to come.”

Ryssa: “To us. To … Rohanson Restorations.” I knock my mug against yours again as you look at me, eyes wide. I smile and shrug. “I finally got round to checking out the internet. There’s a website dedicated to you, you know and it’s just a suggestion, but given all that wonderful carving you do …”

Paris: My surprise turns to amusement as you ramble, and I nod slowly. “Rohanson Restorations …” It sounds good, sounds right and a grin spreads over my face. “To Rohanson Restorations.” Our mugs clash again, and this time we both drink deeply, the bubbles making us giggle.

I watch as you laugh, and wonder who I have to thank for pushing you in my direction and think I have just enough time to quiz you about your internet activities before our food arrives.

December 2007

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