A night that one would not forget, but that he might not remember.

"So where's he headed off to anyhow?" Cal asked, his voice emanating into the silence that, hitherto, was only broken by the clack of shoe against stone. It was a quiet night in Los Angeles; Not that many weren't, but it seemed more palpable, presently.

Alturo spoke up. "Oh, somewhere off in the Orient, I think. Frankly, I couldn't give a rat's ass *where* he gets his money, just that he's buying liquor and feeling generous with it." Alturo laughed out into the night.

"He's got drink?" Cal responded, raising an eyebrow.

"No crap, cowboy! It's a party. What do you think he was gonna be serving, warm milk?"

Cal grumbled as the two continued on down the street, and the two grew a little silent after that. A right, a cut down through that little alley behind Stevenson's, and they were there; Near enough, at least. Cal took in the sight of Mr. Harrington's house- It was more of a villa, really, and it looked like it had been built back when the Mexicans ran the place. Whoever lived there before, he must've been one impressive fellow, 'cause his house sure damn was. Even though the two hadn't begun their approach quite yet, they could hear the faint hustle and bustle of a good deal of people, and the glow of light from the villa's windows. Cal suddenly felt a twinge of nervousness within him.

Before he had very long to contemplate why, though, Al started off towards the villa, and Cal, not wanting to utter an objection nor stand around in the street by himself, followed him in as Alturo pushed open the doors. The sound of a dozen or more conversations, feet shuffling around on hardwood, and any number of other sounds that Cal couldn't identify rushed in through them. There were a handful of people near the door, and they each glanced over; Cal recognised a few, though he couldn't put names to faces. His eyes scanned the place.

Alturo spoke up as someone came over in his peripheral vision. "Tommy! How you 'doin, bud?"

Cal glanced over. The man Alturo was speaking to looked older than the two- Not by much, but still. With dirty blonde hair, earthy brown eyes and a moon-face that made him look a bit more fat than he actually was, he didn't seem too impressive, especially in that silly get-up he was wearing that made him look like a butler.

"Eh, I'm alright. The old man's been holding off on cracking open his cellar, so we've just been playing a bit of dice until he wants us to start serving people. You and, uhh.. your friend, here, want to join in while we wait?"

Alturo glanced over, and Cal shrugged. He didn't really know this guy, and he was never too inclined to new people.

Alturo looked back to this Tommy and responded. "Nah, I don't think he brought any money with him anyway."

Tommy glanced past Alturo and over to Cal, speaking to address him directly. "Well, you're in luck, kid, 'cause Harrington ain't charging this time around."

Cal cracked a sheepish smile as he turned his gaze back to Al. "So, you want to play or just save yourself the trouble and give me your money ahead of time?" Tommy said, grinning.

Al laughed. "You got lucky last time, pal. Come on, I'll show you." He started off to join Tommy and the rest of his friends, and.. left Cal there.

Cal let out a bit of a sigh and put his hands in his pockets, walking off across the room. He wasn't sure what exactly he was trying to find, but he just wanted to look like he belonged. As he rounded a little circle of people chatting about something or other, he saw a long, oaken bar, with a handful of servants carrying up crates from the basement cellar just behind. He figured it was probably the drinks, and that was soon confirmed by one of them ringing a bell; His eyes shot over to her, and looked her over. Calvin hadn't seen too many negroes in his lifetime, but among those he had, this woman looked the finest specimen; She had short brown hair done up pony-like that accentuated an angular face, with prominent cheekbones and a sharp jawline that culminated in a dainty little chin. Her nose wasn't too big, which surprised him, and it were turned up ever so slightly, a bit like a pug. Her eyes were like the entrance to a cavern, bright and glimmering on the outside but deep and dark the further you looked into them; They looked like they could swallow a man whole.

Her eyes caught his, and, as if knowing he'd been looking her over, the corner of her mouth turned up in a sly little smile. Cal felt his face suddenly flush with heat as he, almost compelled by some kind of invisible ****, began to walk over the bar.

Just as he did, however, a couple people rushed past him; Too caught in the moment, he hadn't fully registered the ringing of the bell to indicate that the bar was open, and quickly the partygoers swarmed over to start ordering. Cal frowned and turned away, silently damning the timing of the whole blasted thing. He decided to walk over to a table, and sat down by himself, looking over the ground floor of the villa. There was a few stragglers and Al at his dice game, but most people had congregated around the bar, like some kind of great wall. He rested his chin in his hand, and stared up at a chandelier that hung above the center of the room, crystals glimmering all about it.