[center][h3][color=91AABA]E D W A R D[/color][/h3][/center]

[color=91AABA]"I'm not saying you had anything to do with it,"[/color] Edward replied, a finger tracing the ridge of the cigarette case in his coat pocket. [color=91AABA]"But, suddenly vanishing before the cops have a chance to speak with us doesn't paint the best picture. Don't get me wrong, I completely understand not wanting to be here—I certainly fucking hate being here, that's for sure—but we have to stick around until the questioning's done. I'm sure that even the two of us can handle something like that."[/color]

He could see Mariana tapping away at her phone, sending messages to Benoit, someone that Edward had little familiarity with, but knew he was more hired help than anything. Chances are that he was on his way back to pick her up as he spoke. He wondered if Benoit knew Gideon. Perhaps they were part of the same circle, both employed privately by Blackstone progeny. Perhaps they've never met. Little did his mind wonder to Gideon's penchant for poker and Cuban cigars, or the driver's fascination with swans. They were worlds apart enough as it was.