When one has already taken the poison, one might as well lick the plate.
Water collected threatening to overwhelm that of the sewers this particularly wet evening. Spraying fountains of dirty splashes up under the tires of cars, coating their underbellies in the runoff of muck, grime and other unmentionable debris that simply aided that cloying musk of filth upon an otherwise salty air. It had been only one part of the charm to why they had remained within this city for as long, simply the harking call back to a lifelong channeled upon the written annals of fantasy. Where the land was not overrun with the pests that were no more than hairless rats and the wilds themselves were able to stretch their spreading freedom from coast to coast. Unhindered. Uncultivated and the fears of the dark weren’t simply superstition. Rather umbra laden truths to assure man, woman and child were properly contained within their vessels deemed suitable squatting grounds for human styled vermin.
Peering beyond the crowning architecture of the wooden slatted window, the very restaurant itself was seeing a influx of eager patrons. Affirming a sense of internal appreciation that there the request for a private reservation. Separating the squalling screaking family goers from those who actually came to such an establishment with belief that their evening would be spent in peace.
There was always one family that came upon such a fine restaurant with the same morals they would bring in to a fast food joint. Disturbing the peace of every other paying patron whilst parental units somehow surrendered their wits over to believe the underpaid wait staff ought to be complimentary babysitters to their couch goblins.
All the more reason for some reclusion.
Perched upon the nearby back where really the muffle of kitchen staff and lively foodies of the eating variety were dull drumming ambience. Offering a sense of disassociation as the table where one sat was hosting three empty seats. Save for the one planted under his own rear.
Wine glasses and plates neatly arranged. Napkins folded for the showing of fruitless skills of artistic creativity to mould the very thing into some sort of fan or seashell shape, leaving the arrangement of cutlery awaiting beside. Looking every part the organized arrangement that ought to pull the sort of kitten coos from those who weren’t privy to such fancy intricacy. At this point, the napkin holders were simply missing the gilt gold fringe to make it seem almost like it was trying too hard.
Fingers curled upon the stout glass. Holding upon it that of a circular ice-cube. Slowly melting itself into the weaned glass of colourful amber. Giving idle stirs of twirled glass, moving like clockwork as cornflower eyes rose up to address the stubbornly standing git that looked more like they were playing the damnable part of bodyguard instead of witness. The stiffs of his true red hair standing in gravity defying arrangement, challenging the law itself as though not even it could claim the control on such fluffy frays. Ignoring the way raptor like green eyes were often scouring the only entry and exit upon the private dining area, like the very man was about to leap upon the first unlucky soul that dared enter without announcing themselves first! At this point, he wasn’t terribly sure that was about to be far from the truth!
Naturally he could understand.
After all, who really came to collect such an age old debt. One that most people would have tossed aside with the rubbish meant for the bin. And yet, here they were. About to meet the prospect of such an archaic promise, no, arrangement that may have been better forgotten about.
It took willpower to contain the threatening smirk from his own features. Drowning it in turn with a freshened drink of the burning flavour searing upon throat. Finding internal amusement that surely would have had the previous holder of such a seat practically rolling in his grave. If he had a grave that is. Suppose he would just have to hope that his ashes were blown in the right direction. Knowing how much dear old Charles would have been excited to see the contract come back around now, only into the hands of the very same one that ardently took his immortal life.
Ah well—
Movement from the corner of his eye drew focus. Assessing the darkly dressed man once more. Practically checking to see if ants had invaded his legs to warrant the impatient spastic twitches, feeling the lower of lifted brow come to rest in a bored manner. “You keep twitching like so, Felix, and someone is going to think you need to use the lavatory but needing another to hold your hand in aid.” Darting beryl eyes shot over at him. Ringed with a brow upon its pupil, tensing to barely withhold the glare from scrunching up the tapered redden eyebrows. “Shall I ask one of the waitress to escort you there?”
Lips parted. To hang in deliberation of what would be suitable to reply with only to snap itself closed one more. Settling on a displeased scrunch of a frown. “Nay, it wouldn’t be inna worst interest, to be expressin’ a bit of worry yerself, sir.” The accent cradling his tongue like stone washed silk, just someone decided to rip it instead.
Mouth tugged upwards, “I could, but you are doing such a good job. I wouldn’t wish to even attempt to replicate such a orchestrated determination you have been showcasing.” If this had been anywhere else, anywhere that other ears couldn’t have heard them, surely Felix would have given colour to his reply. Instead, he settled on a furious glare. Making his valiant attempt to bore a hole through his head. “Perhaps you’ll be lucky and they won’t show. Then we can return to our little lives. Back to other business.”
“Yah, yah. I juss ain’t likin’ how this is comin’ about now.”
“Felix,” The two of them looked upon another once more, “You’ll go gray at this rate.”
“Oh sod off, sir!”
“Now Juliette, when we meet this gentleman I need you to-“
“We won’t be doing anything.”
The portly man next her shut his mouth with a grunted harumph, his cheeks going rosy red as he held back the rest of his sentence. Arnould Byron, her father, had certainly once been a handsome man and even now with his round exterior and chubby cheeks, he still had a certain charisma. His head sported a full array of silvery curls, and despite his current frustrations there was a twinkle golden warmth in his brown eyes. He looked the very picture of those old gentleman immortalized in paintings hanging in posh mansions and art museums.
No one could ever guess that he’d gambled away millions and the only thing he truly cared about was expensive cigars lit up along side equally as expensive bourbon.
Juliette could see some of those physical features she shared with her father through her reflection in the town car’s window. Her cheeks were equally as flushed from repressed anger, and her eyes that same warm brown. Aside from the rounded curve of her ears, that was as far as the similarities went. The color of her hair was as dark as her mother’s and the way Juliette scowled was just as severe. Really, it was a blessed Mrs. Natalie Byron wasn’t with them.
In fact, Juliette was about to make sure her father wouldn’t be joining her either.
“You told me a week ago, a week ago that we’ve not a penny left because you’ve lost it all, and you have the gall – the absolute brass balls to even attempt to lecture me about how this discussion is going to go? How are you even going to pay him, Father,” she pointed at the back of the head of their driver. “With the quarters in your pocket?”
He sputtered, gearing up to respond, but Juliette cut him off quick by holding up her two fingers.
“No, no. You brought this stupid and archaic contract to me without even stopping to think about what this insane man might want from us? You realize he’s hoping we’ll balk over this nonsense and sell him the company for pennies, don’t you? And if not that, it’s going to be prenuptials where I get nothing out of the business I’ve spent the past five years developing? That you’re apparently been stealing money from and ruining! You are not going to this dinner to negotiate away everything I’ve been working for.”
If her words weren’t enough, that look on her face – as if she might shove him out of the town car onto the street – was enough for him to throw his hands up and acquiesce to her demands. They spent the rest of the ride in awkward, strained silence.
Once they arrived at the restaurant and the driver helped her out of the car, Juliette could feel the nerves twisting up in the pit of her stomach. She brushed her hands down her hips to smooth out her dress – a rich royal blue number she’d chosen because it showed she was a professional that could command a room – and tried to reign in her flurry of second thoughts.
What did she even know about this man, anyway? He was likely as old as her father, but possibly far more cunning. Who would think to dig up two hundred year old contracts to needle your way into stealing someone’s business? Legal contract or not, Juliette wasn’t going to allow someone to snatch away her inheritance. If this old geezer thought he could bully his way into a new asset and a submissive bride, he had another thing coming.
Juliette marched inside and gave her name to the maître d’, who kindly led her through the business restaurant where her potential future husband waited.
The man seated at the table was the last thing she expected.
“I-” she was nearly a lost for words. This was no old geezer! That was going to make this a little complicated. Especially when she tried to explain to her almost-boyfriend that this was a marriage of convenience only and not that she’d ran off with another man. David was always so jealous when she talked to other men.
“My name is Juliette Byron. My father sends his regards, but he’ll not be joining us. I’ll be handling these discussions and all arrangements involving myself and my business from now on.”
If he could aptly recall this contract had seemingly no weight to it. Not that he had been particularly present for the late and not so great former title bearer to make these arrangements with once upon desperate mortals; but word was always swift to move amongst the gathering. Reaching ears to ears of the poised and the mongrels alike. To be truthful, he could grasp just why Felix was itchy to bounce about like a upset two year old. Some might have believed that the late count’s transaction had been a glorious failure for the benefit of the crumbled court. In a sense, it was! Considering the once more reminding absence of the man whom signed it eon’s ago only for it now to fall into his lap. However, it had been the greatest boon for the family whomst name was writ in ancestral blood. For they had agreed to lend over a daughter’s hand into the claw of something better left untouched, just fate or whatever piously devoted God they believed in saw fight to deliver them nothing by boys! It certainly had been in Charles greatest dissatisfaction not to have his end of the bargain met and yet, all he could do was blame his irrationality to offer such assistance for such a stupid price.
It only affirmed his own reasons for having done what he done at the time. The man was a loon and had no purpose of sitting his bony arse upon the padded seat of power! So quick to give away coffers to coin starved vagrants if they offered just the skimp of feminine flesh his way, foolish repugnant reprobate—
However, it would seem that the centuries turning had begun to lose their blessing. Eventually coming forth with a daughter that was to be the sacrificial lamb. A piece of him might have worried about what he was doing, but morals and behaviours such as those were better left to the washed away tide of his humanity, eon’s old!
Still, he might not have been keen on exploring this contract had it not been for a good reason. Unlike his demented predecessor, he had no need for flowery flesh and batting thick lashes! More than aptly capable of bringing home some flirty dame for company. For a meal. The prospect’s weren’t so dry that he would debase himself to grotesquely as the former had however – and this was the largest pause- there was worth to the very business that had been the desire sought to be saved so many years ago. A ark of resources. A vessel in which was missing from the ability to expand the resounding empire that was properly attached to his own name. Having given rise to the very goliath itself, he had more than a few subsidiary businesses attached to the Rosendrey name. Just, if he wished to expand its hold to a broader level well…he just needed something well adopted into the line of service. So far, there were limited avenues in this very thing. Unless you looked upon a contract that was waiting to be discovered with the very answer.
One simply needed to expand their horizons after all!
It was Felix’s movements first that drew his attention, then the escort of primped appearing maître d bringing forth the arrival of the other half of this very negotiation. Save, it was merely one. A singular entity that was a feminine young lady. Poised as one ought to be though his gaze shifted to assess if there was a late rushing arrival to follow behind her. Locating the space to be devoid of such an entrance. Urging the wonderment promptly, did she assume this was a wise idea to meet a person she had never before? Regardless of where they were within the building, the placement was still intent to encourage seclusion. He wouldn’t consider that a wise move, formulating queries to that of himself whilst body took its rise from chair.
Pushing it back with the bump of calves, resting the stout glass properly empty upon the table clothed surface so he might properly come to stand aside the very surface itself. Replacing the button upon the lapel to cinch the two panels back together. Arranging an orderly appearance of muted shades with only the silver of tie being the most blunt of shades upon himself.
She spoke. With an educated tongue if not with a certain level of bulldoggedness that might suggest she was either nervous or ready to feud for any particular reason, his red haired associate did a poor job of keeping his features clear of concern at the drop of her father missing this meeting as well.
No less, hand was offered towards that of herself. “It is that of my pleasure, Ms. Byron. I am Jordan Harrow and;” Keeping the bold of blues situated on the woman’s visage, head was slightly tipped to infer open genteel nature. “This is my associate Felix Matthews. Playing the impartial eye of witness to what we will be discussion, seeming to pull double duty with the lack of parental figure upon your side.” Only when she was content to relieve hands from another. Gesturing for her to take a spot across whilst Felix arranged himself as an orderly observational party. Producing from inner breast pocket that of notepad and pen, astute to take notes as they spoke.
Once the young lady was seated, he did the same. Merely counting down in head the arrival of wait staff for a refresh of drink and offering in one to the dame. Knowing they had seconds before the appearance, “I suspect that you wish to cut the fat off in the attempts of pleasantries then Ms. Bryon? Shall we dive upon the matters, you appear ready to go into verbal war if I am reading your stance correctly?” Jordan arched a slow brow keeping features pleasantly passive.
Juliette had thought she hid her feelings about this meeting well, even when she shook his hand and took a seat at the beautifully set table. That warm flush in her cheeks must have betrayed her irritation. It didn’t matter. He’d called her out, and there was no sense in lying about it.
“I’d say, Mr. Harrow, considering you’ve dredged up a centuries old contract and seem to think I need an escort and a chaperone to help me do business, that war is exactly what I should be prepared for.”
On cue the waiter arrived, to which Juliette’s demeanor immediately changed. It seemed she was reserving all the cool words and pointed stares for her dinner companion alone, as the waiter received nothing but friendly smiles and polite responses. Juliette passed on the alcohol and ask for the restaurant’s signature vanilla-rosemary lemonade. She’d clearly been there before and was familiar with the menu.
Once the waiter was gone and out of earshot, Juliette leaned back comfortably in her chair and for the first time smiled in Jordan’s direction. It was a wicked and teasing sort of look, as if she believed she already had his number and knew exactly where this conversation was going to go.
“Of course… You also felt the need to bring a bodyguard along to protect you. I promise, Mr. Harrow, I’m not so dangerous.”
In reality, her heart was beating so hard Juliette couldn’t believe no one could hear it. She’d been so angry with her father and so determined to do these negotiations without him to protect her interests, that she didn’t consider if she’d need additional help. Should she have brought a lawyer? Blast it, she should have brought some ginormous goon to play at being her bodyguard as well! Juliette was prepared to fight one man, she wasn’t ready for two.
Perhaps it was not in his favour to be so forward as to call her out. However, he wasn’t one for all the proper social graces that were intending to flatter and fluff a pretty woman’s demure ego. Especially when he was already starting to wonder just what sort of personality this seemingly ginger spirited visage she wore that was riddled with what he best could describe as prickly and tense. Though in all fairness, he was using years of intellect, observation and admittedly assumptions to guess just what sort of position of readying quills that she might have.
Though there was plenty of ways her reply could of have gone, it seemed she was vying for the direct route. Which came with well timed wit and pointed barbs that soundlessly declared she was not impressed. For lack of a better word.
Good.
He’d have been worried if she was teeming with enthusiastic delight at all of this prospect! It at least showed that from what he heard through the grapevine, that the shaping rumours of her parentage were more or less, spineless. It wasn’t the best way to describe them but it was all he could assess at this time. Finding the heiress herself wasn’t just phantom strings holding herself upright but an actual column of bone.
Appreciative of her reply that seemed to showcase the practiced ease she could turn features from one to another with the appearance of dutiful waiter, it was a chance for him to observe further. Arranging understanding that it appeared the young lady knew the practices of many masks. However, which was the real one couldn’t be simply guessed so soon. The chiming request of a sweetened drink was a prompt difference from his own, barely giving more than a glimpse of eyes up to agree to a refresher of the old-fashion. Glass taken and the mood returned back to their trio of dampening weight.
Where the youngest within the room could lounge herself upon chair offering a smile pressed with intent that was better suited for a lioness that believed she was upon the top of the rock. Making the appearance suitable, touched with the reply that was naturally directed to challenge his masculinity perhaps. Daring a curious flick to rest upon Felix standing there. Zipping his own gaze back and forth suddenly aware that he was the less than invisible elephant in the room. Giving a deep rumble to awkwardly clear his throat, displacing his feet back and forth in an obvious displeasure that he was being the one of attention.
Brushing fingertips over the groomed state of chin, thoughts plucked visually upon features. Sizing up Felix as though truly contemplating if he were bodyguard quality before shooing fingers in a dismissal of very thought. Not so sold on it. “It’s a risky move for anyone to come into a meeting with but two souls.” Rings of blue found her, “It isn’t so much that I believe you are dangerous, Ms. Bryon, but perhaps that I might be for you. After all, a young heiress in the company of a young man. Both notably knowing within the socialite order in various degrees, surely having a witness present isn’t so terrible.” Brows arch upon her, “Not to mention, you assumed that I need to help you do business when in reality, I have much to gain by the very opposite.”
He paused for a moment. Welcoming back the serving attendant to rest new and refreshed drinks before their respective recipient. Dismissing anything in the idea of a meal so soon. So he might address the girl further. “And we both know that surely your family’s business could use the funds to maintain itself. But what bank will risk it’s assess and leverage with an archaic business that is…” Jordan considered his words thoughtfully. “Failing due to exponential internal losses.” Choosing the words carefully to suggest that he knew just enough that they were in dire straits but not to put a name to it.
“A contract is a contract. Regardless of how old it is, grandfathered in to be honoured. My family did yours a great service countless years ago, and it’s high time we as the children of the current place finalize the matter.” Jordan offered her a easy grin. Housing nothing more than a truthful charm, “How long do you suspect the business of your family’s will survive when its practically haemorrhaging monetary value at such a rate? While we could dance and sing over the means of how you might be able to pull the drowning corporate of your family’s blood, sweat and tears from the brink of annihilation; are you ready to throw your entire being into it? Overlooking everything else, or would it just be simplier to understand that we have mutual use of another? I require the means of offering plenty of my clientele the ability to service their goods to a broader market. Via air and sea, such as your shipping company. And you need the loans and credits to provide you some stability to put your feet back on the ground. Completing this contract is just,” he cut a hand through the air as emphasis, “Circumventing the lengths in which one has to dance to the paper trail and preventing any future children of yourself to be bound to the same contract.”
He noticed that Felix had jotted down a few things but nothing of importance so far. Flexing a hand to come over top the stout glass once more, Jordan pulled it up to lips. Looking over its rim upon her, “It’s truly your choice, Ms. Bryon. I just see a mutually beneficial chance for both of us to get what we wanted, just with a little… archaic arrangements.”
I am going to bury your body in the ocean, you presumptuous, sanctimonious–
Juliette’s thoughts were seething. But if she couldn’t keep her temper under control, this man with all of his education, honey smiles, and limitless money was going to weasel his way into every crack she showed and every weakness she let slip. Thus, she gave herself a moment to imagine cracking a bottle of champagne over his head while out and about on one of her favorite ships. How she’d shove his body overboard and wave sweetly as drifted away, carried by Pacific currents and then eventually eaten up by sharks. Things she’d never be able to do for real, but were awfully fun to imagine. Then she had to take a slow breath and push it back out of her head.
On the surface, at least, she looked as calm as ever. The only irritation breaking through her façade were the flush in her cheeks and her hands neatly hidden under the table where she was twisting up the hem of her skirt, so she wouldn’t start wilding gesturing at him with her perfectly manicured nails the same way she did at her father on the way there.
“I’m going to be frank with you, if you think I’m not perfectly capable of throwing my entire being,” she repeated his words, making it very clear that not only did she hear them, she felt them, “into saving my business, then you’ve grossly underestimated me and what I’m willing to do.”
Her mouth was dry and her stomach was still doing flips. Maybe it was a bad idea to opt for something non-alcoholic, after all. Juliette hadn’t wanted to dull her senses and risk making a mistake, but her nerves were so frayed and her shoulders so tense, that it might’ve done her good to loosen up a bit. Finally, she took the risk to remove her hands from under the table and have a sip of lemonade, being glad that she did. The cool refreshing drink gave her a moment of pause to rethink how she was coming at this.
“You are the one that needs me, Mr. Harrow. Why don’t we make that clear, first and foremost? The contract says you get a wife – not my business. Did you really think I was going to hear this offer and think ‘Oh Blessed Day! A new man to come in and take over!’”
There it was again – the wild gesticulating with her hands to make her point. The way she moved her shoulders as she play acted the damsel, and then paused with her hands up and that annoyed scowl on her face. Juliette realized all too late that her cool demeanor had slipped, so she leaned into it. Well! He wanted a wife, he might as well know who his wife was!
“I’m only considering this insanity under the agreement that you do not touch my company. Use my ships, use my planes, use my trucks. Service contracts will not be an issue, especially if you replace the funds my father stole. Hell, you can throw him into a dungeon somewhere for all I care. But the business is mine to manage. For that I will be your wife. …at least on paper.”
Truthfully, he didn’t know a whole lot about Juliette Bryon. She as a whole was more of a empty splotch on the whole digging up bones aspect that came from assuring anything of leverage in his demanded sleuths. He knew more about her parents. The gambling, the credits drawn to a thin sheet. Her parents were better described as vultures that were whittling away whatever empire their own predecessors had amassed with a talent for making it look incredibly easy. It had been quite the hook to bait the need to comply with this contract. For it was a big fat juicy worm with the offering of value that was beyond their wildest dreams right now! It made sense.
However, this would be his downfall. The knowing that this living embodiment of a spitfire was turning ire over with a control that he felt he ought to applaud. If it weren’t be assumed to be mockery. Well.. it might be a bit mocking if he did it.
Instead she spoke with the declaration that she would take the challenge of throwing her entire being into trying to keep afloat the business. Unsure if she was really that mulish or if she didn’t realize the extent of her parent’s ruin. Not that it was his place to say how much he knew, but of course he wasn’t above narrowing that of grin to offer it in more of a sharp value. “If you are that determined, then… why are you still here?” Jordan asked, surely believing that she could have arrived. Cut the contract in hopes that it would be pushed off to some unfortunate next generation and call it a day. There had to be more to this that she didn’t want to say and fairly, he had no reason to even guess upon it.
Partly where would be the fun in that anyways. This was proving to be quite the amusing interaction that spurred a bit of enjoyment upon his breast. Busying his mouth with a proper wetting of whiskey whilst she poignantly stated that they needed to make it clear that he needed her. Warranting a clear gaze upon her as he drank. Waiting for her to finish her controlled screak as she began to break the mask of poise. Hands fluttering through the air in such a dramatic fuel that perhaps she was looking to fly out of here with her own manpower. Something he would be intrigued to see.
Returning drink bottom to table, he waited patiently. Meeting her scowl with grin still. “I’d be concerned if you had been eager to fall into arms so easily, Ms. Bryon. And question your ability to run anything save a credit card through a machine.” Nonchalantly he shrugged at this, before raising attention to offer her proper consideration.
To hear what she was expecting. While it wasn’t exactly what he wanted so far, it would still work. After all, it was apparent to him that this little poppet of a woman liked to assume she was constantly in control. The sort of tyrant that seemed like she might be too hyper focused on one thing going absolutely perfect to be aware of all things.
Yet, his levelheadness broke some with the claim that he could toss her father into a dungeon somewhere. Surprise registering. “Manage it as you wish, I stated my need was for my clientele. The ones who will be offering their own contracts and writs to use your delivery and shipping services. I never said I personally would be the one controlling them. Nor your company. I stated what you needed to make it work which is funds.” Jordan smirked at her a little devilishly, “You are awfully wound up. I hope this is not how you conduct all your meetings, my dear.” The woman might as well be as tight as a nun’s ass! “All I care about is that we make this look presentable. On paper. We both get something what we need from the other. Driving the spirit of our own empires forward. Correct? Does that sound satisfactory?”
“Call me dear again, sweetheart, and you’re going to be wearing that whiskey.”
Oof. She let her mouth take over again. What was it about this man that irked her so much? Juliette was an accomplished business woman. She’d gone toe to toe in board meetings with condescending old geezers, had stood her ground without raising her voice while warehouse managers tried to yell their way out of trouble, but here she was being undermined by this guy’s stupid endearments and his endless smirking.
“That is the deal,” she acquiesced, sitting back in her chair to take in and release a deep breath. Calm. Relaxed. This is what she needed to be. After all, he’d agreed to her terms! Juliette didn’t at all believe there wasn’t a catch, though. Bringing in fresh new clients would be great for her… if they were doing legal business. He was so willing to funnel money into her company and bring her new clientele, only for the price of a wife? Something shady was involved for sure.
Did this bother Juliette?
“No human trafficking,” she said immediately, sharply pointing a finger at him to drive that order home. “I won’t stand for that. …Otherwise, I accept this deal. On the caveat that we have a real wedding. I’d like a ring, a full extravagant wedding and all the events it entails, as well as cute little story I can tell about our engagement when I meet new clients. In fact, I’d quite like to use these events to meet your clientele and to show mine that Byron International will be heading into a new era.”
It probably wasn’t an empty threat. Nor did he really want to wear his drink but the mere idea of being able to press her buttons so swiftly may have been turning into a bit of a jest. Locating where they might be so he could compress them quickly. Discovering just what was liable to make this woman shed any modesty and grace that ought to befit an accomplished heiress. If she was that even in suggestion rather than practice.
Keeping the reply that he could have merely defaulted to something a little more on the nose and far more derogatory to call her, Jordan took to watching her. Wolfish gaze kept on a low simmer whilst waiting for her to either decide to potentially show that she could flip the table or conclude that the demands were to her liking. Seeming to come to that agreement, that it was in fact what she was willing to agree too, just of course not without a little added press that was swift to suggest that he might be considering human trafficking. Finally arching a brow at her in a silent expression that he wasn’t entirely thrilled to have such a thing accused under his name.
However, she wasn’t through.
Making her additional demands.
A ring.
A extravagant wedding.
Some crazy attempt to make it sound like this was more of a romantic story rather than end’s meeting.
And a promise that they’d have their clientele properly meet the other prospects.
The whole shebang.
The dull scratching of a pen was noted as he was curbing the means of awe at the sheer fact that Felix had been astutely quiet the entire time. He’d have to check on the man later to assure he didn’t choke on his own tongue, knowing how verbal the man could be! Not that it was a bad thing, but worth assuring the being wasn’t about to suddenly cross over to the next life due to him being a well behaved employee.
“As you wish.” Jordan replied. No snips. No quips or even seemed to be particularly bothered by her wants. “Pick whatever you wish then and send the bill to my office with the attention of my name upon it. I wouldn’t dare bother to attempt to pick something you may dislike.” Down went the remains of the drink. Clunking it back to table so he might push that of chair out yet again. Rising fluidly to the flats of feet. Sweeping fingers over the back of chair to pluck up that of the overcoat to stave off the plips of rain from outside once he ventured that far. Offering her a slight corner look of eye, “Rosendrey Financial. Off centre street. I am sure you won’t miss it, Ms. Bryon.”
Once coat was placed back onto shoulders, fingers smoothed down the collar. Correcting it less it sit awkwardly over the rest of his ensemble. Just that he paused for a moment to consider her, “It would be in the best interest for you to consider your prenuptials in the meantime. I’ll arrange a meeting with you once you have finished such a thing, under the eye of yours and my lawyer of course.” A smirk came yet again, “Anything else you’d like to request before we depart, Ms. Bryon?”
He was all but dismissing her after nothing more than a fifteen minute conversation. That was it then? Just a send him the bill, as if they didn’t have twenty other things that needed to be discussed? Was he just expecting to show up at the ceremony, sign a few papers, give a little speech, and then send Juliette off on her merry way, never to be seen again?
Juliette should’ve been fine with that, honestly, but it was kind of offensive! Who does this designer suit wearing jackass think he is?
Instead of giving him the lecture he so richly deserved, Juliette took in a deep breath and merely smiled. Something sweet and polite – maybe with a tiny hint of a dangerous edge she really didn’t mean to let slip – but otherwise perfectly cordial. If Mister Jordan Harrow thought he was going to wriggle out of actively participating in this insanity they were going to call a marriage, he was in for a rude awakening.
“Rosendrey Financial, I know where it is.” she replied kindly and with a flick of her fingers to shoo him on his way. “That’s all for now, Mr. Harrow. I’ll be seeing you quite soon.”
Smoothing that of the lapel once more as the declaration that this meeting had come to an abrupt end with a bit of a mixture of offering to listen to anything further she wanted to command upon, there was little more to be gleaned. Simply a smile that was seemingly pleasant to the eye. If one ignored the vague underlying felid press at its edges that may have suggested this was far from over. He’d certainly hope that wasn’t the case, what a terrible bore it would be should she be so quick to expose claws only to curl them back in her murder mittens.
Offering Felix a swift glimpse over soundlessly expressing that truly their eve was concluded for now, one did well to bow no more than a slight tip of head. “Good evening, Ms. Bryon.” Bidding a cordial parting though a good chunk of him highly debated to take a chance by being rather assiduously sardonic. Sure that if he corrected his bidding to the future Mrs. Harrow that it would only be cranking open the newest can of well… something. No doubt akin to a fuming spew of noxious gas that could light up in flame at any small crackle of a spark.
Best not to antagonize so soon.
With a hasty bidding of the man’s swarthy tongue, the red head promptly darted out after him once the leave was evident. Keeping a length of step in time with his own longer strides whilst milling through the throng of tables and patrons enjoying their dinners, merely pausing long enough to pay for the drinks serviced to that of himself and future little ball and chain. Departing with little word after. All the way to that of the car in which was only welcoming the sense of relief from the attending human as rump was placed upon the leathered cushion.
Delving fingers into temples with a vain attempt to arrange the top due to the collection of rain fall. “This be a dumb idea,” Felix announced with every bit of contempt that could be mustered in swift snaps. “Jordy, yer gambling more than just a few pennies here. That lass be nuttin’ more than danger.”
Shoulders lazily shrugged as finger decompressed on the ignition starter. “I’ve seen worse, Felix. She’s feisty, certainly but you’d have to be considering whom her parental values are. However, she’s no more than a young lady with her nose bent out of shape. If I was to theorize, she’s more bark than bite.” A grin pulled in a dastardly appraisal, “While I tend to be both. I’ve got to manage the clowns somehow and once you’ve been around as long as I have, you learn the meaning of survival is not how one can stay the quietest the longest.”
Felix narrowed his gaze upon him, not entirely sold but seemingly waiting for more of a explanation that would not come. Instead being gestured at for the safety belt to cross over lap. “Be sure to notify the other three. I’ll deal with Augustus and Emery. Best let all know that there is to be some… fresh blood upon the throne.”