"You had a matching ruby red velvet designer outfit. The jacket barely fit you and looked like it was trying to jump off your body. Small yellow flowers were embroidered all around it and a large red flower of the same material was sewn on your left shoulder. The cuffs were Faux Fur, same ruby color, which made you look even more ridiculous in you cell. I believe you said it was a Renato Balestra original and the only of its kind. As I recall the police report read 'Disturbing the Peace.' The owner though said that you were drawing clientele away and had a meltdown when a red wine had been spilled on you." Pointing toward her foot she made one last note. "You made it expressly clear to point out the dime sized stain on the hem of your pants to me many, many times."
Parry stood at the ready, recounting the experience as best he could. To be truthful, he only remembered waking up in the holding cell, sloshed out of his mind, with Autumn on hand to bail him out courtesy of de Lacy himself. And he did have a face ravaged by tears over the outfit that had been ruined in whatever kerfuffle he'd been involved in. That one-of-a-kind suit had been tossed when the dry cleaner had pronounced it dead on arrival.
"Hey Autumn! How's the practice?" Parry bubbled, opening the door wider for her. "Guys, this is Autumn. She bailed me out of jail once in New York City. A lovely gem of a lawyer. And... oooooooh, who's the stud muffin you brought with you, hm?"