<div class="floatleft">(http://oi36.tinypic.com/34gxac4.jpg)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>Character name:</strong></td><td>Harrison Cartwright</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Location:</strong> </td><td>Dining Room, 55 Beacon Street</td></tr><tr><td><strong>With:</strong> </td><td>Frank Walters, Maggie Delaney, Allister Cooper, etc.</td></tr><tr><td><strong>Doing:</strong> </td><td>Desert</td></tr></tbody></table><br/><hr/>Harrison listened quietly to the conversations going on around the table. He was somewhat overwhelmed by the splendour that made up tonight’s dinner and found himself simply trying to take it all in. The food, the venue, and most importantly the company. The rare times he had been at such a meal before he had not been invited to personally, his boss had been invited and he had been brought along to take notes. It would take some getting used to, being the one who was invited by name. He hoped one day he would feel like he belonged amongst such people, but right now he still felt like he should be writing down names and occupations for his boss to read over later.<br/><br/>He tuned in and out of different conversations happening around the table, although his ear forever returning to Frank. The man could tell a story unlike anyone Harrison had met before, and he had heard plenty of tales when working at the newspaper. He was so engrossed in Frank’s anecdote that he almost jumped out of his seat when he felt a hand creep onto his leg. His head spun around to look at the beautiful woman next to him, whose hand was currently on his thigh. She winked at him and he couldn’t prevent a rather goofy smile spreading across his lips.<br/><br/><em>Subtle, Harrison,</em>he cursed himself in his head. He quickly diverted his attention from Maggie back to Frank, hoping that no one noticed his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson. Fortunately desert was being served at this moment, the silver dishes being placed in front of each of them. He quickly removed the cover over his plate and dug in to the wonderful food it had hidden.<br/><br/>He listened intently to Frank and Allister, intrigued by what it was exactly that the moustached man did for a living. Harrison couldn’t imagine him behind a desk, and somehow didn’t think that the work-burden he spoke of was filing papers for an increasing deadline. He didn’t ask though, as his attention was quickly gripped by the thought of Frank’s new photographic collection. “I’d be honoured to see your new work, Frank,” he said with a genuine smile. He had admired Frank’s photographic ability since he first met him. And the offer of a glass of something stronger certainly didn’t go amiss to the young man, especially if Maggie was going to be around for the rest of the evening, a sip of whatever Frank had on offer would surely help him relaxed around the stunning blonde.