Just a few blocks away from Certif Street resides the Burton & Pyotr Law Firm, who’s workers seem to be funding at least 30% of this quaint nook in London. It is 6 p.m., almost 7, just a little after workers in Burton & Pyotr, along with all the other corporate workers, started clocking out. Shops quickly fill up, the street is lively, noisy as rush hour tends to be.

Vito, a transactional lawyer, looks around, a little lost. His usual after-work bar is closed today, but he’s craving for a White Russian to drink before heading home. A small bar, blending into the rest of the businesses that line the street, makes itself prominent to his eye, and he smiles as he walks inside, gently closing the door.

Taking a seat, he notes the bartender's attractiveness. It almost distracts him from realizing how long he’s taking to put his leather briefcase down.

“A White Russian, please.” He smiles politely, scanning the assortment of liquor behind the counter.