<div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/LUiBrTe.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Nate Phelps (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=281599.msg13853665#msg13853665)<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Dark casual slacks, crisp white collared shirt, blue checked blazer (pictured)[/url]<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Hilton Lobby, then Ballroom<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Chrissa, Katie (sort of), Open<br/><br/>Nate was pleased to see that his response seemed to put Chrissa at ease. Given their history and the fact that he’d yet to interact with anyone else at the reunion in a meaningful way, he was wary of alienating her. Plus, she looked stunning and the banter between them was already warming him to the idea of spending more time with her, so much so that when lunch the next day was offered, he blurted out, “It’s a date!” with perhaps a bit more enthusiasm than he’d have wanted to show. To her credit, or maybe because she was trying to figure out how to navigate talking about her profession, she let it go by without much notice.<br/><br/>As she went on, he became aware of the lingering presence of the bartender, and started to take notice of the fact that maybe a few other glances were lingering in their direction. It certainly wasn’t because of him, or even because of<em>them</em>. It had to be a combination of Chrissa’s dress, and the recognition of just who she was.<br/><br/>And yet, despite his capital ‘I’ introversion, you couldn’t have dragged Nate Phelps from Chrissa’s side at that point.<br/><br/><strong>“I think there may be one or two here who know about Lacie Blue.  Well, three now, counting you.”</strong><br/><br/>Nate’s eyes lit up a bit, his smile warmer than before. He didn’t know quite how Chrissa arrived at such a specific count, or what it was based on, but, there was something to being in on the secret, her secret, that made him feel valued and trusted.<br/><strong><br/>“Tell me something about you.  How has the world treated you since leaving Westwood?"</strong><br/><br/><em>Oh, good. I can talk about my crumbling marriage. That follows up ‘millions of people would kill to fuck me’ with just the right hint of sad and pathetic.</em><br/><br/>Nate set his drink down on the bar, fiddled with it, then picked it back up and sighed.<br/><br/>“Well, I think you know the early part-I headed ‘west’, played a couple years of D-II at St. Bonaventure. Then I blew this thing out,” Nate pointed at his right elbow, “and locked in hard on my studies. Stayed there for grad school, met a nice girl, got married super quick. We moved to New York, got good jobs that turned into great careers, which is terrific. And just, sort of,” He set his drink down again, held up his left hand, and pointed to the naked ring finger, “Drifted apart. I’m told papers are forthcoming.”<br/><br/>Nate shrugged. He was half-way into his Manhattan inside of ten minutes, and was already feeling a bit warmed up, so he plowed on through. “All in all, I’m lucky. I’ve got a good job-make good money. Being a corporate controller isn’t sexy, but it pays the bills. We don’t have kids, and I’m giving her the apartment, so it should be an easy exit.”<br/><br/>He gave Chrissa a sheepish smile, picking up his drink and holding it to his lips, “And now I’m standing here, sharing drinks with the stunning, impeccable Chrissa-Lacie-Blue. So, you know, I’m doing pretty alright, other than not having eaten today.”<br/>