It always concerned her when she was told that a strange man was coming to visit her. Though, to be fair, the last time it happened he was better dressed than Owen was. When she was informed, the community was the last thing on her mind. In all honesty, she didn't even think that he was serious about coming to meet her.
So, she walked as fast as she could to go meet him, cigarette in one hand and bottle of rum (for Mr. Draper's meeting with Captain Morgan) in the other. Last time it had been someone that thought what they did for one night meant that they had a relationship.
The moment that she did see him - him - she almost dropped the bottle. Jesus Christ, the worldhopping thing is real. She must have looked gobsmacked, but for once, she didn't care. All she could do was stare at Owen.
Considering that was Owen's favorite sort of reaction to trigger in women (though usually for different, better reasons than just standing there), he couldn't help but look suitably smug and a bit like an ass, arms crossed over his chest as he did his best to seem casual and at ease with the situation.
"Miss Holloway, I presume?" he asked in a tone that would have been better suited for I told you so!, giving the bottle a once over before quirking a brow. He stepped forward a bit. "Bit early to be pulling out the liquor, isn't it?" Then again, he knew she most definitely was not doing it for herself. He just couldn't help himself.
The moment that Joan saw that look on his face, her expression when from shocked to displeased. So, he knew this would happen and now he's smug about- for some odd reason all she wanted to do was hit him. Instead, she gave a tight lipped smile.
"Oh, Owen you know how much I hate it when you call me Miss Holloway." She lied gracefully (an art she had come to master being a secretary that not even a polygraph could pick up on it). She held up the bottle, remembering that they were waiting for it in the conference room.
"Julie, go give this to Mr. Draper in the conference room. I suppose my Welsh cousin wants to breeze into town without telling me."
He better play along with it if he wanted to make it out of Sterling Cooper alive.
Owen made a slight face at being called her Welsh cousin, but had no problem shifting his accent just slightly. Even if she didn't know what she was talking about, anyone else who overheard them might, and Owen wasn't about to get her into trouble.
"I can't help it," he said, just as breezily as he'd fictionally swept into town, "Last minute plans don't make for quick calls. I've only got a little while," he added, raising a brow at her, "So, if you're free, maybe we can pop out for a quick bite." Possibly literally, but he knew from the look on her face that that was probably not going to happen.
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So, she walked as fast as she could to go meet him, cigarette in one hand and bottle of rum (for Mr. Draper's meeting with Captain Morgan) in the other. Last time it had been someone that thought what they did for one night meant that they had a relationship.
The moment that she did see him - him - she almost dropped the bottle. Jesus Christ, the worldhopping thing is real. She must have looked gobsmacked, but for once, she didn't care. All she could do was stare at Owen.
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"Miss Holloway, I presume?" he asked in a tone that would have been better suited for I told you so!, giving the bottle a once over before quirking a brow. He stepped forward a bit. "Bit early to be pulling out the liquor, isn't it?" Then again, he knew she most definitely was not doing it for herself. He just couldn't help himself.
Reply
"Oh, Owen you know how much I hate it when you call me Miss Holloway." She lied gracefully (an art she had come to master being a secretary that not even a polygraph could pick up on it). She held up the bottle, remembering that they were waiting for it in the conference room.
"Julie, go give this to Mr. Draper in the conference room. I suppose my Welsh cousin wants to breeze into town without telling me."
He better play along with it if he wanted to make it out of Sterling Cooper alive.
Reply
"I can't help it," he said, just as breezily as he'd fictionally swept into town, "Last minute plans don't make for quick calls. I've only got a little while," he added, raising a brow at her, "So, if you're free, maybe we can pop out for a quick bite." Possibly literally, but he knew from the look on her face that that was probably not going to happen.
Reply
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