Juliette had a problem. And his name was Jordan Harrow.
No, that wasn’t fair. Her actual problem was Arnould Byron, her duplicitous father, and current bane to her existence. If he hadn’t gambled away the family fortune and then start embezzling funds from their company, she never would have needed to entertain this ridiculous marriage contract in the first place.
Three days had past since her meeting with the surprisingly young CEO of Rosendrey Financial. Even now Juliette was still reeling at how easily he’d gotten under her skin. The man spoke like he was some sixteenth century noble, some hundreds of years ago and smiled as if he were a King instead of some pompous heir to old money. But he wasn’t much more than a few years older than herself. Juliette was an heiress too, but at least she had the politesse to not dismiss her future fiancé!
Well, she wouldn’t have. If he hadn’t done it first.
Her meetings with a lawyer had gone well, along with the designs of her prenuptials, but she’d hit a snag in the whole process. The entire point of her marrying that irritating jackass was so she could save the very business she loved. But now her blasted father was suddenly being coy about signing it over to her.
Money. He wanted money, and damnit, Juliette didn’t want to give it to him. She didn’t exactly like Jordan Harrow, but that didn’t mean she wanted to help extort him out of millions just to pay off her father. Especially because she knew that would never be enough.
She’d arrived at the main building of Rosendrey Financial in a lacy, muted green sundress and with a hefty black binder in her arms. Much like their first meeting, her attire was strategic. Today’s softer look wasn’t about a show of power, but rather creating an enchanting love story – or at least the illusion of one. A digital camera hung over one shoulder, for which she intended to use at every opportunity to capture candid photos of herself and her new fiancé. If she was going to announce this wedding, she needed pictures.
“Can you please inform Mr. Harrow that his fiancé is here,” she politely told the front the desk once she stepped inside.
Juliette took a moment to curiously glance around. She had to admit, the place was impressive. Byron International was currently working out of one of the old warehouses on the dock, and though the views of the ocean were lovely, the office spaces were not.
It wasn’t particularly often that anyone came to press insistently into that of the board meeting. Actually if he put some direct thought into it, it hadn’t been done! At least in a very long time, considering it had a high chance of repercussions lashing out upon the one that made such a pressing demand on having it interrupted. However, even as the mousy brunette secretary escorted herself into the room on kitten heels, he might offer a bit of leniency this day.
Feeling the eyes of the majority of board members doling out questioning and curious gazes upon him receiving a whispered word close to ear, there seemed to be a few muffled whispers exchanged to another. No doubt wondering just what was so important that Yulia herself had to slip into the conference rather than holding a call or telling the person to come back later. Certainly liable to spin into some colourful gossip eventually by those upon their rolling chairs, to waggle theories at the water cooler later.
Offering a nod to the young miss as she took a half step backwards –to avoid him stepping into her- hawkish gaze moved over each individual head within the room. Purposefully lingering on some longer than others. For unspoken reasons.
With a quick pardon and a barely managed care attached to the fact that he of all people were cutting the meeting to an abrupt close –noticing a elder man from the corner of his eye nearly leap to his own feet with objection- fingertips pressed the button of blazer closed. Declaring the idea of speaking up about this sudden decision to end the topic, an unwise choice. Whilst he certainly appeared youthful himself, one would be wisely invested to know that he behave as juvenile. Proving to be the archaic wolf that had seen more than most could even comprehend whilst possessing a mouth that didn’t particularly care to play nice at the best of times. Favouring a snide wit and snapping tooth to assure that he said what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted. Leaving him a bit of a mogul in the avenues of business logic to be that of a shark in small waters.
Giving a low gesture of hand to suggest for Yulia to lead the escort from the glass wall room, his gaze subconsciously slipped outwards. Looking past the deco style art upon walls to see whether or not the adjacent waiting room for his office was suddenly busy. Unsure of what possessed the visitor to come now. Then again, he supposed it didn’t matter. Just that she had made the claim to fiancée before the welcome desk at the lower level. Hurrying Eleanor to call that of Yulia in a sense of panic. Which prompted the secretary in question to hastily descend the ivory tower to claim the heiress to once more soar up to the fourth level. Where he and the other board members had their own offices, certainly sparing no measure of glam.
Finding the curious gaze of the near onxy eyes of the woman upon him, Jordan arched a slow brow upon her in reply. Waiting till they passed the threshold of chamber so Yulia could slow her pace to be even with his. “This is a joke, Jordan?”
“It’s not.” He didn’t even bother to look over at the heart-faced woman. Knowing her lips had already parted to gawp like a fish without water. “I just hadn’t expected she would make such a debut.” Or announce it so broadly! That was something he hadn’t counted on, figuring that she would much rather like it to be on the hush value. “You can lead her into my office, I’d rather not allow the vultures to gather so soon to pick and chew upon the gristle.” His words were low to imply that some of his members of the ruling administration, were exactly the sort of people he didn’t need putting their sharpened beaks into this.
Still Yulia paused. Coming to an abrupt halt, smoothing her hands absently over the black pencil skirt. Seeming to contemplate this action but decided wisely not to comment upon it. “I wouldn’t keep the woman waiting, Yulia.” Jordan chuckled at her expense, “Best push back my next meeting in the meantime as well, I… cannot say how long this will take.” Turning to make his walk along the sheltered hallway towards that of his own lair, a glimpse back was prompt to see the assistant trot along. No doubt about to collect that of his affianced in a hope to stave off any lookylou’s gawking nearby.
Best of luck to her.
Juliette didn’t have to wait for long in the lobby, and though she was entertained by the hushed whispers and curious gawking of the ground floor clerks, she was glad her fiancé hadn’t decided to ignore her or send her away in the arms of security.
When the elevator doors opened up to reveal a mousey brunette with a determined, yet incredibly confused expression, Juliette knew immediately this was likely one of Mr. Harrow’s secretaries, if not a personal assistant. It seemed every mogul in the world wanted to be surrounded by cute women in stylish pencil skirts, and in that moment Juliette decided (once her business was back in the green again) that she’d make a point to only hire handsome young men fresh out of college to fetch her coffee and file her paperwork.
“Miss…ah-” the woman greeted, looking a bit embarrassed by the fact she didn’t have a name. It seemed Mr. Harrow hadn’t yet informed his closest employees of his upcoming nuptials.
“Juliette Byron,” she offered, congenially with a smile.
“Yes, Ms. Byron! You may call me Yulia. Mr. Harrow will see you in his office. If you’ll follow me.”
Juliette couldn’t help but notice the woman was surreptitiously giving her an examining eye, especially when they entered the elevator. She couldn’t blame her, really. A secret fiancé was certainly news and Juliette had the feeling that Mister Jordan Harrow didn’t often spend his time with women – or at least, not women like Juliette Byron. It was all too easy to imagine him at salacious parties with a couple of showgirls on his arms, or sitting in a dark corner somewhere drinking bourbon and watching people from across the room.
So engrossed in this nonsensical daydreaming, she nearly missed when the elevator opened up and Yulia stepped out.
She made a curious note of the grand piano as they passed it, but otherwise the fourth floor of the building had that usual professional opulence one would expect in an office building. Lovely glass walls partitioned off waiting room where she assumed one of the desks belonged to Yulia herself. They passed by a conference room, where a few people were still inside, all seemingly very interested in the two ladies as they turned a corner down the hall.
Juliette wondered if she’d interrupted a meeting, and took a little bit of delight in disrupting her new fiancé’s day.
Finally Yulia knocked softly on a heavy door before opening it up and granting their guest entrance.
“Ms. Juliette Byron here to see you,” Yulia announced, still lingering there in the threshold.
“Salutations, sweetheart,” Juliette said cheerily, not being able to suppress a mischievous smile.
Coming to rest that of the cellular device upon that of the lacquered desk, eyes spied over upon the monitor. Considering the low bar resting in a state acceptable tedium of never truly sleeping, he considered the mail icon at the bottom of the toolbar. Grateful that it wasn’t a bloated number waiting for his addressed but still disliked the idea of any email waiting longer than necessary within his inbox. Knowing that its importance wasn’t exactly a critical need but found it was just a personal preference of being digitally organized. Using these very seconds to distract his compounded thoughts from the soon to be arrival of the young shipping heiress. Merely guessing somewhere in the back of his mind what purpose she truly had coming unannounced, finding the ideas were plenty, broad and some so out of the idea of normal that it was sitting beside peculiar.
With a dull shake of thoughts to pull eyes off the awaiting notification upon computer screen, touch slipped upon the gloss of mouse. Promptly shifting the screens from important to unimportant. Minimizing items that would been his attention eventually and closing others that were deemed to be a future focus when his entire concentration could be thrown into it.
Using these countdown seconds to the minor clean up of the desktop till the rap of knuckles could be sounded upon the wooden portal. Promptly rising from the chair, casters rolling across the rug beneath to protect the tiled floor as he arose in a gentlemanly fashion. Merely coming from behind the desk to stand beside the heavy wooden chunk. Addressing Yulia firstly as she pushed the door open –no doubt harbouring a barely contained intrigued to what on earth was unravelling before her as she gave her best announcement of whom had come at all. Finding gaze had promptly shifted to take in the comely woman in green, twice over. Firstly for confirmation of attire, secondly at the greeting that came from lips causing him to have to mentally will the pop of eyebrow from suddenly flying right off his forehead. Having not even considered the means of pet names or that she would even dare to try it.
Perhaps it was the smirk that crossed her features that aided him from keeping eyebrows from popping off, but he managed to keep a calm about him. With forced control. It was forced, “Thank you, Yulia.” Tipping chin towards that of the aid assuring emphasis in tone suggested that she was dismissed for the time being, Jordan couldn’t stop himself this time from offering Juliette a rather odd look. “I had not expected you so soon.” Or at all really. Colour him a fine shade of surprised and suspicious. “What may I do for you, peristéri? [Greek; dove]” he wasn’t sure what it was with the pet name but had a feeling that if he strayed into the method of professionalism with address of Ms. Bryon, it would be something he might regret. Even though he couldn’t actually affirm that, it was lingering on the front of his thoughts.
“I don’t know Greek,” she said first, with a point at him as if he were doing something naughty. “I recognize the sound, though.”
Once Yulia left and shut the door behind her, Juliette allowed herself the opportunity to browse through her fiancé’s office with leisure and a deliberate avoidance of answering his question promptly. She merely tapped the big black binder in her hands as she wandered around the room, observing the style and placement of furniture, and then with great interest ran a finger across his books as she read the titles. You could learn so much about a man based on the books he kept around him, and even more if you knew which books he actually read.
She did finally turn, pulling a manila filing folder out of her binder to offer him first.
“A prenuptial agreement, as we discussed. Your lawyer can look it over and we’ll schedule a signing. …I do have a small problem, however.”
Juliette was hesitant to spit it out. In most cases she preferred to solve her own problems. Asking for help never seemed to lead anywhere good, and it was especially frustrating in this situation where she felt it was going to give this man something to hold over her. It felt as if she were forever trapped under someone’s dastardly shadow!
“My father is refusing to sign the company over to me,” she finally admitted. “He seems to think he can weasel his way into keeping the company and whatever money you fund into it. Or maybe he thinks I’m something to be traded and in exchange he’s going to get millions. Either way, he needs to be forced out, out of the company and out on the streets if I had any say in it! The only reason I agreed to any of this nonsense was to get this company. He doesn’t deserve a piece of it after everything he did.”
He could give her credit that she may recognize the sound of the language. Finding that at least she had been able to figure that piece out without making a lose guess that was lousy and potentially insulting. However as she gave him a pointed gesture and the door moved to seal Yulia back on the outside, Jordan found his lingering question doing just that. Lingering. Given to the air and to be held there until the madam made her leisurely stroll amongst his occupational lair. Seemingly with the lack of response, it was an invitation for him to return to perching upon the rolly-wheel chair. Checking phone with a quick tap to find it wonderfully devoid of any message bubbles whilst she seemed to take intrigue upon the shelves located within the office.
Perhaps one of his greatest vices was books. Having a collection accumulated over his plenty years that might rival some large bookstores now. Easily one of the few things he still piously enjoyed even if it wasn’t exactly the sort of thought most might have when giving him the first impression. However here, most of the titles were aimed for business related reasons and a select few for show. Keeping the ones he valued most within his home.
Folding hands across the desk protector, intrigue came riding up like a eager pony when she finally turned to pull out the beige yellow folder towards him. Something he would take without a fuss, pull its thickened top open to glimpse upon the page. Agreeing to see that it was the prenuptial from that of herself. Mentioning in turn that it would be a good idea to have his own lawyer consider it as hers would have to do for his, just before he could mention a glance upon calendar, Juliette added on a hanger to her sentence.
A problem.
“Oh?” Jordan queried letting the folder come to lay in dormancy upon desk. Folding hands once more upon it now whilst leaving the open air for her to continue.
Which seemed to be practically filled with another hitch that he couldn’t have foretold. He might have lived considerable lifetimes but he was no clairvoyant.
Shoulders moved back to press themselves upon that of the leathered upholstery. Pinching sloe brows upon another to hear that her male parent was proving to be a right prattling prick in the side. Raising gaze to keep upon her as she mentioned that her thoughts believed that her father might believe he could keep his disease riddled hands upon the company whilst potentially believing that those avarice stricken fingers could have the funds he offered over into that of personal pocket. Not that it paused there, proving that the woman had thought long about what sort of scheme the elder man might have had for her. Treating her like a shiny bauble to dangle before some slow witted fop that would willingly throw themselves into bankruptcy to obtain her.
Brows remained attached to another. Contemplative.
“He is the CEO, I presume?” He wasn’t about to just assume it since sometimes that wasn’t the case. “You have a board committee that works just below him, or a potential CFO?” Jordan opened a singular palm to smooth out nothing on his desk. “Surely it is no secret amongst your company that your father is… less than financially gifted.” Choosing his words carefully, “If you do possess a board committee and a CFO, it would not be unfeasible for you to approach both privately and sway their need to complete a vote to remove that of your father from his position. Especially if you can back up the values of what has been lost within even two years of the company since he has been leading it. Whilst having viable documentation of the items you have completed that have been value to the company.”
It was a short pause, but a pause no less. “There are plenty of ways of forcing your father from his seat. As stated, proving and swaying those who work as a voice to assure balance within the company is met can press in a legal standard that your parent is no longer fit for the position, whilst raising if necessary, statements of less than savoury practices. Another way is to…” Jordan thinned a look for a thought, “Discretely tip off the media to your father’s behaviours. Where he goes to spend his time and drag his name through the mud. Leaving it to the media to properly blow it out of proportion. Using the populace’s opinions and dismay to sweep in and announce yourself as the face. Thirdly, if the previous owner –your grandparents I assume- can also step in under the grounds that they do not feel the way the company is run is beneficial. That would be considerably more difficult to complete and timely.”
Broad shoulders shrugged, “What I can say is, I have no intention of funding your father’s addictions. Nor am I stupid enough to be swayed simply by a comely face. If I was, I doubt I would be in the position I am.” Making the motion around himself, “Nor am I willing to risk the livelihoods of my employees here because your parent is for a lack of a better term, a dumb greedy bastard.” He could have articulated that better but didn’t care to put effort into it.
“Truthfully, you have options. It just depends on how immediate you wish to remove him from power and… how loud you wish to be about it.” Then he looked to her, “Unless you have another idea?”
“You can say it plainly, Jordan. He’s a criminal and an asshole.” she said with some amusement. That faded quickly, though, and was replaced by something more contemplative and serious. Manicured nails painted a deep emerald green to match her dress tapped gently against her black binder as she thought out loud.
“I won’t slander him through the media. Aside from that potentially blowing back on the company, and I have other plans for using the media to my advantage…” Juliette left that ominous revelation hanging in the air, and didn’t yet explain it further.
She moved across the room, not bothering to take a seat in the comfortable looking leather chairs seated neatly across from his desk. Instead she stepped around the old wood and sat on his desk on a clear spot next to him. It wasn’t a conscious decision, though if she had thought about it she may have done so anyway, as the casual familiarity placed her firmly in the position of partner and not just some client he’d be doing business with.
“It may be difficult to convince the board to oust him. Most of them are quite loyal to father and resistant to have a young lady suddenly in charge. If I can convince them I have the capital to back me up and a situation far more stable than Arnould Byron, they might change their tune.”
That conspiratorial and mischievous smile spread across her face again. It could almost be inferred that this was her plan all along, but in truth, Juliette hadn’t really considered speaking to the board directly about removing her father. Her plans for the day had been all about creating a positive narrative about her marriage, but now that she realize it could also be used to manipulate the board? Perhaps she didn’t give herself enough credit. Good ideas were good ideas!
“Of course, that does hinge on my fiancé being someone I can trust. Or at the very least someone they trust. I suppose it is rather lucky I decided to pay a visit in person. Would you like to know what’s in this binder, Jordan?” she asked, tapping her nails against it and leaning closer. Her excitement was subtle, but there was a little wicked twinkle in the way she said it.
There was no resistance on the matter, finding that the upfront mention that her father was two things he had avoided saying yet she declared matter of fact, truthfully amusing. Pulling a chuckle from him even if he knew it wasn’t in the best humour but couldn’t resist it. At least she wasn’t blinded to the reality that the one that may have had aid in creating her was less than a stellar human being, trying to defend the crook whilst allowing him to dangle her along like a willing puppet. However this was no time to tease the ideas of what sort of real colour her parents were, but found that she was quick to decide that her motives shouldn’t be based entirely upon the use of the media. Something he could conceded too, since it could be a knife that could just as easily be aimed back at her.
It took a real talent to know how to manipulate such a tool without it coming back to scrape, scratch and ruin the original one who began the escapade. It was something even he didn’t partake too much in finding it was more of a brain pain than actual use. All the time.
With focus following her right to the point that she helped her rump up to perch upon the edge of desk, he took imitative to move seat backwards. So he wasn’t watching her from the corner of his eye but keeping his full visage present. Having no need to be selectively sly or coy at this time with the intention of annoying her. Rather he was pleasantly curious to the fact that Mr. Bryon was attempting to get something from this transaction and still being on top. Either the man was really that big of a gambler or he really had no idea assumed he was smarter than everyone else! At this point, he wasn’t sure which was which.
Freeing the dominant hand from place upon desk so it might rise up to cradle instead that of cheek, Jordan gave an agreeable hum to her statement. “Old blood often approves first of monetary gain rather than just listening to the truth in front of them.” Eyes rolled to express his knowledge of how easy it was for the older generation to listen when you have some strong capital backing you, rather than just listening to the facts and truth when it was presented before their noses. Finding it irritating but not about to change any time soon.
Which might have implied what she was waiting to hinge such a vast capital on. With lips moving to pull a devious glint upon what he might call a faeish face, if he was supposed to act surprised with the next bit of information, he clearly missed his cue. “If you didn’t have a inkling of trusting me, you wouldn’t be here, Juliette.” Since it seemed she was content to call him by his first name now, “But colour me curious, I am questioning what could possibly be within that binder that is warranting such a impish glint in your gaze.” He dared a look over his shoulder to the small print of time on the computer screen, returning cheek back to palm. “Consider me your astute listener, peristéri. What’s in the binder?”
“I am still on the fence about trusting you,” she admitted, that mischievous smile of hers finally sprawling out to be something more genuine. Regardless of her feelings about him, Juliette was quite excited about her project. “I suppose we are about to put it to the test.”
Turning her binder in her arms, she proudly used her perfectly manicured hands to display the words scrawled in curling calligraphy.
Our Wedding Plans
Jordan Harrow & Juliette Byron
“I’ll admit, I really only made it to be difficult at first. But you’ve made such a good point about convincing the board I am better suited to running the company. Where I am not keen on using media to discredit my father, I have no qualms about joyous wedding announcements and an irresistible merger. Granted, they’ll believe you’re swooping in to rescue me and no doubt puppeting my decisions and will be over the moon about that. They can believe what they like, so long as the company is signed over to me in the end.”
Pleased with this new plan was falling into place, Juliette opened up her binder and gave him a brief overview of all the ridiculous details that would go into the weddings. For someone who hadn’t wanted to get married, it was incredibly thorough.
“I hope you’ve told your assistant to clear today’s schedule. We’re going to go ring shopping and you’re going to propose properly. We’ll need photographs for a wedding announcement. You can even pick the spot.”
Nonchalantly he shrugged upon her statement that she was still sitting upon that fence about whether her trust was to be given or if it was to be kept away. Watching a long tedium of thought to see that while she was wisely cautious, he wasn’t entirely buying into the idea that she was sitting on that post. Considering her bottom was positioned on his desk like she damn well owned the spot, he would venture that she trusted him more than any other. Otherwise why would she be wanting to inform him that her father wanted money from this union and to keep his only child from the business. Certainly that was not something one would tell to another if they didn’t have a shard of trust.
But that was splitting hairs.
Returning focus to whatever it was perched upon that binder that seemed like it might hold the most private of secrets that very few were privy too as the plush petals of lips were turned to seem closer to natural than plastered. Listening to her continue as not to interject rudely, it seemed he had made a decent argument for her to grasp upon. Nodding along at the reminder that using the media to discredit the elder Bryon man, it came with a pardon. That she wasn’t above using the very same outlet to assure that everyone knew just who it was to accomplish an irresistible merger.
Earning herself a proper smirk from yours truly, chuckling shortly with a indication that he was still listening. Not about to speak up quite yet.
It would seem like he was swooping in to rescue the damsel by a modern term. Only to be the one wishing to take the dolls strings to dance her this way and that, making sure that a male figurehead was still in play to the eyes of archaic filchers better in retirement homes than boards, Jordan hummed to show he was following along. Knowing that really that was the end game here. “Well we could sell it like that as much as you like. Might as well make the bait palatable for them to bite and not see the hook attached to it until it’s too late.” He really had no desire to take her company, he just needed its expertise for shipping. To broaden markets and of course to aid the other realm.
Yet eyes followed where she opened the black covered case. Revealing the detailed itinerary that claimed to the very dot what she wanted to orchestrate.
She had stated she wanted a large wedding. Just he had not expected it to be so ostentatious and so thorough. ‘By the God’s flame tits.’ He thought to himself, doing well not to roll his eyes at the very overview.
Raising cornflower eyes upon the young lady so they might close once more. “No, I hadn’t. But I suppose I will be.” He’d have to address Horus to take on some other matters he needed to attend too, being sure to drop the importance that his time was now divided with the heiress.
Just that his gaze opened yet again to find her as she pointed out that he was going to propose properly. Arching the brow at her then, making a show them to tap upon the binder, “Do you have how I ought to propose as well or should I be prepared to put some effort in?” he asked with surprising control, pausing only to contemplate that he was the one to pick the spot for the wedding photos. “Alright. But they will need to wait till this evening then, as for the location will need proper time to light up.” He had an idea already but it truly would need to wait for the evening. Honestly, he wasn’t even thrilled to be out and about during the sunlight hours. Whilst he was resistant to the blasted baring of the sun now –after so many centuries- he was still not the largest fan of it. Having limitations for how long he could handle it before he started to get a bit nippy.
“Is there anything else you need, Juliette or shall we begin this afternoon? I will have to address a few matters with Yulia and my CFO. Then, I’ll be yours to flout about.”
“I have better things to do than wait around for you all day,” she expressed with a frown. Still, she was a bit intrigued by the fact he already seemed to have an idea about a proposal location, and that was honestly much better than how she expected this conversation to go. Juliette had thought he’d fight being involved at all in her plans of grandeur and wedded posturing.
“Hmm. The wait better be worth it,” she finally conceded. Juliette snapped her binder shut before she leaned over his desk to confiscate a notepad and pen. In clean cursive she wrote down the address of the Jeweler along with the time she expected him to be there – double underlined. There was plenty enough time for him to handle the rest of his days business, and Juliette could easily ask the store clerk to remain open later than usual in the afternoon to accommodate a guaranteed sale.
“Don’t be late.” She slid off his desk back onto her strappy heels and took a moment to smooth out the green lace properly down her hips. Making it only halfway across his office before she stopped and made a slow, curious turn to peer dark brown eyes over her shoulder.
“What does peristéri mean? If it means dear, I may be certain you never have a good glass of bourbon ever again.”
There was two ways he could have responded. One with the curt reminder that while she may have better things to do than wait around all day for him, he also had a business to run. Which meant he didn’t have time to be snapped at and expected to drop everything for her just because she thought she could. That wouldn’t fly, even if they weren’t making an arrangement for mutual benefit. He wasn’t about to sign over his existence for her to simply think he was but a peon. The second option was the chosen response.
No response.
Instead looking over at internal thought of where and decided that it would most likely be in the wiser avenue to assure he put more of an effort into the location rather than just saying some random spot on a whim.
However she was swift to make her catty remark, earning herself a look then that was starting to push away from congenial into potential annoyance. Watching her stretch over to snatch up a pad and pen to scribble down the designated shop that she wanted to obtain some finger candy from. Expressing her impatience with the bold scratches of implication where it was. As he looked over the address whilst she aided her dismount from the desk –declaring a need for him not to be late, he pushed the note aside. Considering her turn to wander from the space of the room for a solid moment till her departure came to a pause.
Chocolate discs peeking over shoulder as she asked him first a question and then made a bold suggestion of retribution. “It doesn’t. Though I can’t say I enjoy having someone press and hiss at every whim simply because she is uptight.” Jordan leaned upon arm rest, “It means dove.” The man slowly rose from that of chair, swiping phone off its rest so he could deposit it back into trouser pocket. “While you may not be thrilled about this arrangement, Juliette, the snip and snide isn’t necessary required at all given moments. Respect is a mutual street.” He tipped his head then, “I will be along shortly.”
And here Juliette thought she was going to get through an entire conversation with the man free of insult. Uptight, snippy, and snide, was she? Because she didn’t like her time wasted or being called condescending names like dear! How was it he could so easily flare up her temper with just a few casual remarks, leaving her very seriously considering she she should march across the room and throw her binder right at his head.
At least dove was a million times better than dear, even if it did cause her face to flush.
She opened her mouth, ready to shoot something back at him. He didn’t understand where she was coming from. He didn’t even know her! They could fight it out right now, and then he’d learn real quick about what respect actually meant to her. What could he even know about a woman in her position? His life was a charmed one.
Instead she let out a slow, frustrated sigh. Now was not the time and place. Not if she wanted to get anything done.
“I’ll see you there,” she muttered softly, breaking eye contact and leaving his office without any more of a fuss.
Naturally there was some recourse considering the reasoning to why he was taking the remainder of the day off, paired with the announced –and swiftly swept through hot gossip amongst the facility- that urged some questions to who, what, where and of course why. It wasn’t something he would have thought could have been simply swept under the rug considering his general lackadaisical life was as Juliette may have already assumed. Not one to have originally been attached to one single woman within his young life, but rather entertaining the whims of whatever fancy seemed to strike at the right time.
Certainly this information of having Mr. Harrow’s Fiancée show up to the building was the juiciest bit of intrigue that wouldn’t likely die any time soon from waggling tongues. Even finding that Horus had since heard the news and was hinting obtusely at wanting to know more. Enough so that there was a half hearted offering of more information to come but that couldn’t be spoken of in their passing moments. Expressing more of a need to simply get to the appointment less the mademoiselle grew to search her pocket full of scathing wit with more of a depth than previous.
Upon the elevator ride down, it allowed him just a fleeting second to message that of another. Insisting the arrangement of the evening be procured properly.
The woman wanted to make a show of this arrangement. Wanting it to see as glam and fabulous as any little girl could have dreamed with what he could have guessed was near royal desires. It was going to take more patience than he could amass to find enjoyment in flitting along to such moronic needs. What happened to the days that the women would merely arrange their wedding and allow the groom to stay out of the way. Assuming they would be more of a bother, a handful, an annoyance than anything of actual use! How much of his own internal thoughts ranged back to the mortal existence of his own and recalling the joy his own mother had at the idea of arranging a wedding with her future daughter in law. Without him being involved.
Eons later and he was still wishing such matters were held in the same way. Yet it was proving that he was going to have to be more involved with this asinine motif than he could have ever believed!
It was too early to drink but he was feeling the parch of throat for it.
Thankfully the parkade was wonderfully devoid of life, allowing him proper departure from the looming giant to stride rubber tires upon familiar asphalt. Assuring the time hadn’t been drawn too long whilst appreciating the dull drum of the traffic. Hitting it in a stride where lunch hour was over but the end of one’s shift hadn’t come to compact the streets with wall to wall bumpers. Allowing the eventual arrival to the glitzy looking storefront practically screaming its jewelled interior without even trying.
Stealing a breath to fill lungs, he’d leave the vehicle. Meandering across the street as gaze filtered upwards to consider the heavy heat of the great irritating ball of flame behind polarized lenses. Glaring at the once upon a time enjoyed presence, finding he should probably start wearing the protective ring of years long past to help stave off the insistent press. Unknowing what sort of idiotic choices Juliette may want and wishing to avoid revealing anything about his true nature to the dame. Knowing how well humans took to the reality that their realm was hardly just their own! Nor was he too eager to start needing to take samples upon her to keep her dulled and confused if she begun to suspect anything unusual.
Straightening tie as he reached the opposite side of pavement, stepping between two other vehicles so he might slip into the air conditioned sparking venue, attention rotated behind the dark lenses for an additional moment. Noting the few customer service reps located behind their gilded counters filled with all sorts of diamonds and stones alike. One currently helping another customer as he had to stave off the sigh of a century.
He’d avoid taking off sunglasses too late, folding their arms over another to tuck one against breast pocket of the suit jacket.
Well… he was here. What sort of monstrous jewel was she going to try and see she could purchase, no doubt a ruse to see whether his wealth was just as large or not.
The door opened behind Jordan not long after, with Juliette rushing through the threshold slightly out of breath and more than a little disheveled. With how important it was to her that he showed up on time, it had to be strange that she hadn’t arrived first. Her ebony brown hair was no longer in it’s severe high pony tail, now long and loose around her shoulders, windswept and messy. She even quickly ran her fingers through it trying to smooth it into something more presentable. Her black binder was gone and it was odd that she didn’t carry a purse, when most women never seemed to go somewhere without one. Yet she still had the digital camera strapped over her shoulder.
“I’m here,” she said once she caught her breath, though she lacked that same spitfire and spark of mischief she’d had earlier in the day. In fact her whole demeanor was even more cool and guarded than when they first met, and her eyes seemed to be preoccupied with glancing at everyone and everything in the room but him.
If something were wrong, she didn’t mention it. Juliette gestured to one of the displays and took the lead in starting their browsing.
“The engagement ring should reflect us both,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Diamonds are a bit pedestrian, so I think something with color would be far more interesting.”
Truthfully? He was surprised she wasn’t in the shop, standing there tapping her shoe and tapping her wrist for added emphasis of the time. Giving him that disapproving look that was better suited to a Catholic nun rather than any modern woman that knew the value of their worth was more than the world often said. To see that the store was devoid of her presence but had the other clerks and browsing customers, he might have been inclined to check if he was at the right location. Feeling the curious and near vulture eyes prying upon him as hungry commission driven claws of the available clerk was biding their time not to see too eager. A commission was a commission after all but it wouldn’t work in their favour if they came on too abruptly. Looking the part of nonchalant predator busying their hands with tucking a cushioned board full of some jewellery back into place.
Discretely peeking but waiting.
They damn well reminded him of sharks, able to smell blood a mile away. In this case, money.
As the door opened once more, feet pivoted. Finding the previously maliciously pinned and groomed Juliette in less of her former state. It was as though she had just gone through a windstorm and decided to allow the very element to style her in an exciting status. Urging his gaze to venture over her with more an intrigued marvel that she could be of so many faces, if not urging a sense of worry that she could be of so many faces. And yet, the only thing within her grip seemed to be that of the camera. Having taken vague mostly unaware notice of it previously at the office but it seemed to practically stick out now. Due to the absent of a clutch, a bag or a purse. Something for a woman to carry her endless items that seemed to be a pocket dimension all on its own.
Something felt off. Be it his raising suspicion that Ms. Juliette Bryon was a woman of secret agent quality or that she was trying to introduce the many facets of her entire personality, Jordan tucked fingers to slip into hip pocket. Watching her a long moment even as she took in every other individual in this place. Till she took that lead that claimed this was where they would begin. His own gaze flicking upwards to the lingering prowler of a fancily dressed clerk keeping their own hungry eyes on them.
“Mhmm.” Jordan tailed a half arm’s length behind her as the idea of the engagement ring should reflect them both. A matter of opinion that was honourable if they knew another well enough and if there was actually love or care in this arrangement. Though she continued, focus drooping to the case glittering like thousands of polished stars. “Diamonds are pedestrian?” He questioned her on that, “I don’t think a woman who has a cubic zirconia would think the same.” Flashing her a jesting smirk, “But as you wish. Colour would be fine. Just which colour is left to question.”
He gave a subtle motion that seemed to trigger the thirsty clerk to start their path over to them. With a noticeable tug to the hem of coat to straight the lack of wrinkles, the elder fellow slipped around to the inside of the counter. “Sir. Madam. What may I help you with, something in particular?”
“Engagement rings.” Jordan chimed, “The young lady would like something with a bit of colour. Not a band of diamonds but something less… pedestrian.” Taking her choice of word to use as well, Jordan sidestepped as he continued the look upon the dazzling gleams. “Personally I think a green or chameleon gem would be acceptable.” He glanced at Juliette purposefully, “Something rare only to fit the woman, avoiding yellowish green. I wouldn’t want to think of anything less than absolutely perfect for my young bride to be.”
His flowery statement seemed to draw her out of her melancholic focus, in at least that she finally glanced up to look at him directly with that squint of her eyes as if she were debating on whether or not he were being offensive. Her pensiveness eased off enough that the corner of her mouth almost twitched up into a smile.
“Jordan.” she scoffed. “Did you make a lucky guess at my favorite color, or are you that enchanted with my dress today?” The tone wasn’t as breezy and as mischievous as earlier, yet after a deep breath Juliette did finally relax her stance. Her shoulders weren’t so tense.
She braced her hands on the glass counter, leaning forward to peer into the cases of what they had immediately on display. At least so she could browse at cuts and styles while they discussed the stones themselves.
“Have you heard of the Mount Saint Helens Emeralds? They have the most beautiful deep greens I’ve ever seen. I’d love to find one that has a hint of that oceany blue-green.” Now that she was sounding more like herself, she pointed at a few of the display pieces, gesturing the clerk to pull them out for her to take a look.
“A princess or pear cut would be nice, but oh,” she reached out to gently tug at Jordan’s coat sleeve. “The wedding bands will have to match. Do you prefer gold tones or silver?”
He wasn’t taking a stab in the dark to locate her favourite colour, rather he just knew that the meanings behind colours of diamonds had significance. Staying away from any rose or red to avoid the idea of passion considering this had nothing to do with it. But didn’t want to daringly offer her the idea of a cheaper less rare colour that was more of the whites and blues. Though he supposed if he was feeling particularly intrigued, he could have mentioned a cognac colour but that didn’t feel like an idea to invest in.
Staying in the green category was of wise choice. Favouring the symbolized suggestion of vigor, of abundance and prosperity. “The latter.” He countered for her. Giving her the idea that while he had noticed the flattering colour upon her earlier being, he wasn’t about to suggest that he was that lucky of a guesser!
Traversing the glass case with minimal attention, watching the clerk from under brows to see whether or not they were racing to get this sale on the road; curiosity pulled. Raising attention upwards as she spoke about a particular gemstone. “Helenite.” He remarked seemingly knowing of it in more of a basic term. An artificial gemstone created by man rather than mined from the earth. Not to say the item wasn’t pricey but it was at least not carved from someone’s blood. It was a artificial glass which made him consider this a bit. Looking suddenly at the clerk like the man had just materialized before him rather than standing there for a few minutes. “Suitable for a ring?”
His face made a slight turn. Debate lingering before he seemed to almost grow uncomfortable under his own stare. “No. Such items are better for pendants or earrings. Used in a ring, the edges are rather easy to scratch, or chip. It’s hardness is at most a five and a half.” Jordan waited seemingly urging the man to continue, “About as easy to break as window glass.” He almost appeared remorseful to utter such things, seeing as the young lady had been verbally enchanted by such things.
Stopping at the tug to his sleeve, attention deviated properly to find the young dame. Hearing that she was preferring either a princess or pear cut shape. “Silver. Gold merely reminds me of some poor late sixties gigolo that has certainly lost his prime.” He remarked with a slight quirk to lips, even if he did wear gold periodically. But his thoughts were lingering on her desire for a certain colour.
“What of Australian teal sapphire?” Looking between Juliette and the clerk to gauge the response. “Or you might merely need a proper emerald to sport the look you wish, peristéri.”
Peristéri again. Dove. It was such a silly thing to be called and Juliette briefly wondered if he called every woman he encountered dove or if that was something he’d reserved just for her. He always seemed to say the word as if he were holding in some salacious secret.
Juliette paid no mind to the clerk, who seemed to be barely containing his eagerness to useful, chomping at the bit to hear her opinions so he could offer additional suggestions. Her gaze was focused on examining Jordan’s face and considering his input.
Did he know that a teal sapphire represented a bridge between two worlds? Sea and sky, communication of two souls… The green toned sapphires especially symbolized trust and loyalty. How ironic! For the first time since arriving at the jewelers, Juliette smiled wide and genuine, absolutely delighted with the whole thing. Of course he hadn’t made these suggestions on purpose, nor would she bother to tell him her thoughts about the whole thing. The absurdity simply gave her a great deal of amusement and made up for the encounter that’d delayed her arrival.
“An Australian teal sapphire would be perfect. Specifically the teal with green and blue tones, in a silver setting. I like this.”
Observing the tailored man as the question hung upon the air, waiting for a response. Selected firstly –perhaps purposefully- by the lady herself. Declaring the idea of the suggestion acceptable. “Then I shall return shortly, let me see what we have.” The fellow punctuated the topic with a literal finger to the air. Daring a swift sweep of eyes down before the cases before them to doubly assure there was nothing to miss in such a choice. Turning to slip away in search of the articles that had been deemed worthy of search.
Following the fellow for an additional moment. Seeming to be pleased with the result of departure as to allow a shortened respite between them. Presenting back an undivided attention to the shipping heiress. “Should I begin to question the need to be prompt when one had arrived shortly after I? Or question the wardrobe change, Juliette?” Was she one of those girls that liked to switch her outfits at any opportunity. His thoughts briefly diverting to look back in a lifelong since past and nearly shudder with the ensembles. The mediocrity of never wearing the same garment for a full day. Morning, noon and night, switching! It was a pain in the ass, if he had anything to say about it. And a unnecessary frivolity that had no place in the modern realm!
At least boning wasn’t a thing for the young ladies any further and one didn’t generally need an entourage of servants to dress and powder and bejewel one damsel.
A gentle vibration was made upon leg. Pulling the rectangular device from depths to spy across the bubbled message, he offered a slight tip of crown. “It would seem your evening shall at least be to potential suitable liking. Hopefully the young lady isn’t expecting roses.” He glimpsed at her, “To avoid being cliché.” Jordan tacked on.
Her pleased smile vanished in an instant, replaced once again with that pensive expression and a look of surprise that he’d brought it up at all. The white blouse and black pants she wore now were a far cry from the muted green of earlier, that she’d so carefully chosen to help give that romantic ambiance to their engagement photos. They’d simply been conveniently in the dry cleaning picked up on her way to the jeweler.
He likely thought she’d changed clothes on purpose and for a moment Juliette was tempted to tell him what happened. Still, it wasn’t a problem that had anything to do with him – at least not in the sense that he needed to be involved. Juliette could handle her own personal affairs.
“It was something unfortunate, and nothing you need to be concerned about. …I do apologize for being late.” She wasn’t looking at him again, now peering over her shoulder to give a wary glance out the business windows to the sidewalk and streets beyond. After a deep breath and a roll of her shoulders, she attempted to put it out of her mind altogether.
“No roses?” she asked, finally hazarding a small smile again. “With a business name like Rosendrey, I would’ve expected otherwise. Some like to be on the nose about those sorts of things…”
One didn’t need to watch her bodily language to guess that his questions had reached and pressed on something that could dissolve that smile. Winsome features departing into an avenue that might be better expressed as uncertain. In which way, that was also uncertain. Just that the coffee coloured eyes were making a disappearance act away from him that only seemed to speak volumes in which voices could not. Urging a stronger concentration on the woman that appeared like she nearly have every precise second of her day exceptionally calculated. Every I dotted. Every t crossed.
He did like when someone had a mind to plot courses. A tactical mind that could see the broadness of many branching paths, but also knew when and where to drop one or two. To alter. To create!
Yet, she had an obvious level of personal control that seemed like the idea of help was similar to a two letter word.
She took her moment. Adopting quickly to state that his nose was better put out of the query and placed elsewhere. He might have found it more believable if he was being looked in the eye rather than watching this girl suddenly appear like she had slipped a jewel from the case up her sleeve and was trying to be nonchalant about it. “Accepted.” Jordan hummed, debating his options here. “Though if it is nothing for me to be concerned about, I would take a stab in the dark then and guess whatever it was, involved another. Perhaps a beau. Or… former beau.” He took a page from her book and looked away. As if the cases filled with the fabled girl’s best friend was important. Adding on a swaying hand to suggest he wouldn’t continue to guess at what had drawn her to arrive seconds after.
Instead chuckling at her wit about roses and his company. “It’s an old name. And I find that most women may appreciate the romance that twelve long stem roses symbolize from movies and television, when actually done, it’s well…” Wrist rolled, “Been done. Numerous times. Loses its impact when it’s the same page from the same story.”
Parting from one case to another, the slow stride was chosen to come near to herself. “You stated your favourite colour was green.” A daring eye found her from the corner, lingering in a long tamed but wolfish stare. “Would not a lady appreciate the effort of her affiance to put in to select a flower or more that has someone of her favourite in it. Gladiolus are favourable. Or green hellebores… although if I were to chose wisely… cymbidium might do quite nicely.” Features turned to face her more so, “Yes, actually that would be perfect. A variety of colours and not what most would expect.”
His brows lifted impishly, somewhere thanking his earlier years of flower language of being actually useful. It helped when you wanted to insult someone without saying it to their face, or wanted to merely impress upon a beautiful woman that you were different from every other halfwit male. Finding that his statement of the previous decision of the green gemstone to be hand in hand with the green orchid.
Well he couldn’t ignore that, now could he.
Stopping his browsing, Jordan look to her then. Full faced. “Suitable? I would hate to make anything seem like it wasn’t strived for your perfect image and ideal engagement.” A noticeable glance thankfully had the clerk return.
Carrying a soft cushion of arranged items, approaching them each to present his finds. A minimal selection however. “These are the ones that were of pear or princess cut. Notably our selection is few with such requests. Though do any of these seem fitting, miss?”
He was so good at pressing her buttons and guessing facts out of thin air that Juliette seriously wondered if he were reading her mind. Then with equal wonderment couldn’t fathom why he wasn’t using that wealth of knowledge in her head to be less of a pain in her ass. Former beau was exactly her problem and as she said, it wasn’t something Jordan Harrow needed to be concerned about. That relationship had been a tremulous affair and over for quite some time. Even if David seemed to think he was entitled to opinions on her current fiancé.
Juliette was happy that Jordan changed the topic quickly back to flowers – something much more innocuous they could discuss. His wolfish, sly looks out of the corner of his eye weren’t lost on her. Where she knew quite a bit about the metaphysical and symbolic lore about gemstones, Juliette’s knowledge didn’t extend to flowers. It seemed Mister Harrow did and was harboring his own amused secrets between the difference between gladiolus and cymbidium.
She hated to admit it, but she did sort of enjoy this nonsensical game they were playing. It wasn’t often she met someone with layers she actively had to peel away to discover the truth beneath them.
“I’m very interested to see what you feel is idyllic for me,” she responded, blessing him with that teasing look again. With the clerk’s return, she couldn’t make further comment about it.
Juliette knew immediately which ring she wanted. A princess cut in an uncommon position, accented with opals and what she suspected was alexandrite or blue diamond. The entire setting was in a nice subtle white gold, which had the silver tones her fiancé preferred. A best of both worlds.
Despite having her decision already made, she took her time in picking up each ring to try on her finger and see how they reflected the light and complimented her skintone. Once she was satisfied in at least making the clerk squirm, she presented her official choice to Jordan.
“This one. I could wear this one forever.”
He was ancient, not dumb. The centuries spent alive meant many things. Accruing wealth, knowledge, rise and falls of empires and favouring different avenues that were rather spaced in occupational fields when he wasn’t needed to take a good chunk of fifty or more years away from the mortal eye. To avoid being caught having not aged a singular year. There was only so much time he could present in public before he had to either disappear or go underground to wait out the eventual forgetting of the world of humans.
In all this, there were always some things that never changed! One being the nature of man and woman in relationships. And how disastrous they could be.
With her silence and no darting glares upon him, might have declared his uncanny hit on the head. Thankfully, rather than feeling the need to be an grating hound to a bone, he skipped over prodding at the topic. Chasing the one of flowers. Watching her sometimes to see what he might glean from her expressions before lips could no longer quell a little easier simper. “Let’s hope that what I chose keeps your favour. And your photos.” Shamelessly pointing at said camera.
Camera’s, where were the natives that believed the damn things stole one soul when you needed them? Damnable technology. He’d just have to make a detailed note about this so later when things were ready to start shifting, they could be conveniently lost or destroyed. Maybe…
With the clerk sweeping into the space once more with his pitiful bounty of rings –glimpsing around the store as if to check personally that he might not be as amused to such a slim pick- it seemed that at least the few presented were of good quality. Individually looking at them resting upon their black satin pillow to make their gems and stones glimmer and glint with well angled lights, if he didn’t know any better he was sure the clerk was about to break out into a sweat. Surely hiding the fact that while the choices were thin, the price of such things were quite the opposite. No doubt banking that such dollar signs weren’t about to be part of his wishful dreams.
Personally he didn’t much care for the teardrop shapes. Finding them just, fine but not magnificent. There was nothing wrong with going with old designs that refined elegance. Pleased nearly to find that Juliette’s decision was similar, straying to the inset of the offset jewel. Ringed with opals upon its one side, like a tiny crown made just for the teal sapphire. Catching light in prismatic specks, it was once her dainty grasp presented to him, that he filled more of the roll of doting fiancé. She wanted to make this a view, did she not. To assure the eyes around them would be quick to pick them up as wanted lovers, not collaterally arranged bumpkins!
Coiling grasp under the perch of fingers so he might incline the bend of tips to rest on his own, lofting slender digits upwards. Scaling the height difference so he might not need to bend over, giving her claim to being able to wear this one forever as the winner. “Pales in comparison yet to you, love; but if it is the one that makes you swoon, then we have no reason to delay its purchase.” He flattered with a timed bend to not quite kiss her hand but implied its motion. To at least make eyes within the place seem like it was done on purpose. Willingly allowing her to take back her hand less it become any more strange than it already was.
“Best pick out the compliment of wedding bangs then, Juliette. That one, I will leave to you.” He dared a look over to the clerk, watching the man suddenly jolt back to life less he start seeing dollar signs in his actual irises. “I assume this isn’t a wedding set, is it?”
“No sir.” That didn’t surprise him honestly. So she would have to find something that would compliment her engagement ring with the wedding band to join and the fruity additions of having the fifth, tenth and fiftieth year ones to be bound into a large grouping. Granted, he wasn’t about to worry about such things, this wasn’t bound to last that long anyways.
Juliette very nearly cackled out loud. Nearly. Instead, only a small laugh managed to escape, of which she quickly quelled to turn her full attention to the clerk, all business once again though, an air of what likely looked like infatuated giggle to the clerk.
“Place this in a small box, black velvet with no frills or trim.” she handed him her chosen ring. “For the wedding bands I would like simple white gold, no inlays or patterns, size five in one millimeter thickness for mine. His should be-” she paused, twisting up her mouth a moment in a suppressed smile as she captured Jordan’s left hand with both of hers to spread his palm and fingers. “Size ten, two point five millimeters. We may call later to discuss inscriptions and will pick those up once we’ve chosen our date. For now I’d like to leave with the engagement ring.”
With those orders given, and suspiciously without letting go of Jordan’s hand, she turned to her affianced with a smile that was very reminiscent of his own wolfish grins. He likely thought he’d throw her off balance by playing into this romantic fantasy story she was building.
“If you’re done showering me with your lovely sixteenth century prose, I am very excited to see what you’ve thrown together so last minute.”
Quelling the rise of brow that wanted to pop up at the idea that she could guess his ring size with no more than scrutinizing fingers, he halted that process. Instead internalizing that she was a very hand’s on person who seemed to know more about the ringing process than probably most would. At least not without dedicated training. Simply offering the clerk a courteous nod to agree that he best see to the lady’s requests. Swiftly one might add. Putting use to obtaining that of his commission merely dangling inches away. So close. Almost to taste.
Perhaps he should have watched to see whether or not the man jumped to click his heels with the ring squirreled away and the others to eventually be placed back into their cushy rightful places.
Grasped within those of slender slips of fingers, wisely the intention to browse further to avoid any one coming closer to try and sell perhaps more –smelling the kill like damnable vultures- Jordan gave her a light tug to slip to the other side of another counter. Chuckling earnestly this time at the suggestion that his theatrical display paired with the quip of tongue playing upon old languages. “I’ll stay the rest for now.” Offering a short pause on any flowery, romantic gestures for later. Seemingly taking that suggestion of her excitement to depart fingers from her own. Instead putting use his so it might press and pluck over the smartphone. Tracing eyes over the information coming and going, slowly aligning blue to brown. “You may be surprised but nothing is ever just thrown together. Even on a whim.”
Assuring things were aligning appropriately, he leaned palm upon the glass top. “Now, it is a choice is yours. You have two choices, as I could tell by your design of wanting everything immaculate with your planner previously,” Lose black tumbled to cage upon the right of eye, ignored properly. “Since we have much to learn of the other, I had to conduct a few strings. Rather than leave an off chance that I could possibly insult your plan by some overlooked infringement, here is your options. Land or water.” Jordan straightened his shoulders, “And that is all you may have as a determination of what could happen on the pictures for the engagement.” His eyes flashed over shoulder, “Whilst we wait for them to put all their blocks in a row.”
“It’s wise to be afraid of insulting me,” she agreed with a nod of her head. “Every time you do I have this inexplicable need to push you into a pit of fire.” Of course her tone was teasing, and so was her body language in the way she clasped her hands behind her back and flashed him a grin of perfect teeth, but it was also unapologetically the spoken truth. It was the one thing consistent about Juliette Byron – she might not always tell the full story, but what she did say was generally honest.
Land or water, what an interesting choice. Land had endless possibilities and would likely be safer. Water, though, always appealed to Juliette. She could happily spend hours staring at the sea, lounging on a beach, or enjoying a well sailed boat. There were fewer things she could think of involving water as well, so surely it would be fun to see how Mister Harrow could get creative.
No one had come to interrupt them, likely as their little conversation looked decidedly intimate. Good practice, Juliette hoped, for making their engagement photos look more real.
“Water then,” she revealed at least. “You must promise not to involve swimming, as I can’t. It would be a shame to lose your fiancé before we’d even planned the wedding.”
Lids narrowed slowly in both a mildly intrigued way and slightly impish. Questioning the muse of her words that him insulting her had such a visceral reaction. Though her and how many others might feel it a sporting good time to try and bake his flesh into a brown coat. She wasn’t the first. She wouldn’t be the last. “Mentally noted.” Not that he was promising in the future. Most likely he’d eventually earn her ire yet again and what would occur then. An attempt at pouting he would guess at least. If not more, if the woman was quick to follow up with her currently playful threats.
Best not to linger on it.
Finding instead it would be in his best interest to keep serving this idea that the whole plot of arranging the location was left up to a decision. Giving her no more of a clue to whether it might be on the rippling ocean or upon the sturdy land. Knowing that there were people waiting in a steadfast limbo for the answer before they rushed to complete the visual arrangement to what he might guess was some girl’s dream out there. Somewhere.
She selected water. Fingers dashed upon cell’s surface to denote the location. Putting the item finally away properly. Replacing visage with a surprise. “Well I wouldn’t think of swimming on our engagement evening, though you do not know how to swim?” Jordan found that actually odd. “As an heiress to a once upon a time a shipping business whilst behind within a port town. I would have assumed that swimming was part of your genes.” Hand on the glass became elbow. Leaning into it, “Then I won’t suddenly surprise you in the future with any abrupt sailing trips. At least not without having a lifeguard on duty and a jacket.”
The very idea she didn’t know how to swim was baffling. Considering he quite enjoyed the very activity, one of the few things he still actively partook in! But then again, old roots and Mediterranean blood still hung thick in dusty veins. “Is there more things I ought to know? Allergies? General dislikes that are best avoided or shall I stumble upon them?” Shuffling nearby drew a slight look, the clerk seemingly packaging the first item that had been chosen before putting a hope to his step to come back over.
Offering more so a view of the selected bands that would hopefully past Juliette’s tastes for wedding rings. What better time for him to simply leave her the details, “Whatever you like best, kitten.”
“Not kitten,” she pointed a finger at him, near enough to almost tap him on the nose. It was certainly easier now with him leaning on the glass countertop and near at her eye level. At least this chastisement about the nickname hadn’t come with her immediately snapping at him. Part of it may have been the presence of the clerk and her need for the illusion or a loving relationship, but really Juliette was learning that Jordan Harrow couldn’t seem to help himself when it came to these silly endearments. If he were so insistent on them, she may as well help him discover which she wouldn’t abide and which she minded less.
“I think I would like best to get you alone so that we might have a private conversation, darling.” Quite deliberately she laced the sentence with all of the breathy intention and clandestine indication she could, knowing the eavesdropping clerk must’ve been picturing something torrid indeed, while Jordan knew very well she was being facetious. Though she did intend to answer the rest of his curious questions, there was still the rest of the night to do so.
That smile she always seemed to have on her face when she knew she was up to no good was there again, even as she laughed and moved away from Jordan to make quite work of pointing out her chosen wedding bands. She pointed the clerk immediately to a pair that were classic and discreet. Juliette didn’t take Jordan for the sort of man who wanted to announce to the world he was married through ostentatious jewelry, and she herself preferred a simple band to compliment the engagement ring without overpowering it.
“That’ll do,” she confirmed, then with a dramatic flourish of both her hands, gestured that it would be the generous Mister Harrow that would be handling the payment.
So far it was proving that the young miss didn’t particularly like pet names that favoured the common or even vaguely uncommon. At the moment only dove mixed with another language had landed which seemed to raise question if he ought to remain with just that or see what other ones he might dredge up for her flattery in the face of public. Deciding that was a private matter to consider whilst lingering on wonderment to the variety of questions asked.
And silenced when it was evident she did not wish to announce anything that might consider her weak, vulnerable or something in-between amongst the public presence. Relenting swiftly.
Within her grasp did he leave the remaining task of selection to her critical eye. And payment to his ledger. Rolling orbs at her dramatic flourish finding that if this was a farce of hers to seem almost puckish and palatable, he wasn’t too bothered by it. Rather preferring it as it made it a little easier to keep his own hackles down. Knowing he didn’t exactly have the tamest of temperaments when he finally had enough fooling around. Biting first, asking questions later.
With the clerk restraining his jubilance for a large sale completed this day, the engagement ring was tucked into its plain little box. Taken by hand. Properly stashed upon his inner breast pocket as to keep up the semblance that she certainly would not have it until the evening. Leaving the others to be sized for their fingers, it was by his decorum that he moved to escort the madam from the glitzy interior. To bring them back into the god awful day. Dressing features with the dark glasses to prevent the damn sun from searing his eyeballs out into puddles of goop, touch swept to adjust that of tie. Keeping the tailored attire trimmed as not to seem like a hair was out of place –even if literally it was freeing itself from the pomade of the modern age.
“Now, with rings obtained and paying a man’s mortgage this month—” Suit slabbed shark drooped features to express that he was looking upon her from dark shades. “Anything else, one might request of her fiancé? Or shall we reconvene later upon that of the pier for your elaborate engagement.” Jordan paused uncharacteristically then. Goatee and lip alike smothering into an almost scowl, “Should I have security present? Since you might not be willing to speak about whatever transpired from earlier in your day,” Implying he was guessing at her jaded lover or whatever, “To assure that your plan stays in place, of course. Unless you have it plotted that you wish for a jilted former love to tear down your evening, then perhaps I’ll avoid any additional costs this eve.”
Juliette stopped on the sidewalk, immediately setting her hands on her hips as she frowned up at him. First because he apparently wasn’t going to let the mystery of her lateness go, and secondly because he’d put on a ridiculous pair of shades that reminded her of a villain in some seedy romance novel. How was she supposed to get the full regalia of his wolfish nonsense if she couldn’t look him in those blue eyes.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d believe you were jealous of any potential lover I still had in my life,” she surmised out loud. Really, at this point if he was going to keep tossing out barbs and allusions to necessary security, she may as well put his mind at ease so they might focus on more important things.
…it was easier thought than done. Juliette’s relationship with David was a complicated, nerve-wracking mess. Honestly, it was embarrassing that she’d put up with it for so long. Admitting to anyone, especially to Jordan Harrow, that there was one part of her life where she didn’t always make the best decisions was not something she wanted to do.
Pausing long enough to gently rub her temple – gods just thinking about David was giving her headache! – she decided against giving the details.
“I don’t have a parade of ex-lovers planning to come kill you, Jordan, if that’s what you’re afraid of. It was an argument that got out of hand and I will deal it.”
“Jealous? No. Properly trying to foreseen an event of the future and to properly be on top of it to avoid potential problems, yes. As we agreed, you are merely to be wife in name. We never came to the agreement that even during the arrangement that either of us have to be faithful to another. Truthfully, you could have a harem of men if you wanted, it’s the human nature after that warrants caution.” Jordan replied almost too quickly –realizing his almost error on the matter- before she was expressing that she didn’t have a potential parade of ex-lovers to come marching down the street.
He wasn’t worried about anything trying to kill him. Whilst he might properly appear to be some particularly lucky and vaguely gifted aristocrat born into wealth, the roots of his truth were far deeper than that. As the suit covered him only to really express that he was a broad tall fellow, the sinew beneath may have had other stories to tell. Add on the other functions of not being quite mortal and it properly warranted his disclosure that he was not worried about death. He’d been alive a long time, at this point he might as well consider himself well versed in evading the black robed sickle carrying figure.
However, brows disappeared behind the frame of lenses. “I wasn’t worried about that. I know you have made it clear that your desire to have this farce arranged in a manner of professionalism, is what my concern was. Rather than re-enacting a Streetcar named Desire.” The appearance of his near scowl hadn’t slipped off, suddenly zipping gaze over her garments. Questioning something that was probably liable to get himself into a bit of trouble. “Should I be concerned that you are hiding bruises?” He asked rather seriously under a cooled lowered breath. Evidently this was one question that he was staid about. “I’ll leave you to your business, Juliette. But even I can’t over look someone being irrationally harmed because of male machismo.”
The last thing Juliette needed to hear was a lecture about the professionalism of their arrangement, the complications of “human nature”, and good grief! Faithfulness and harems of men! If the man hadn’t blown her off at their first meeting, they could have already had this entire discussion about their private sex lives and how it most certainly would not be involved in their contract. The temptation to know those sunglasses right off his face was so strong…
And then he went and turned everything upside down. The man actually sounded genuinely concerned that she was hiding bruises and that he intended to do something about it if it were true. He stated it so plainly, so matter-of-fact that it could’ve passed as casual conversation.
All the fight and anger left her, leaving Juliette baffled and perplexed. Her hands gestured at him and her shoulders rose as if she were struggling to dig up the words. It was true! How was she supposed to respond to this?
“Please don’t worry about me,” she started slowly, trying to stress that it was all fine. “You’ve seen my temper, Jordan, I– It’s my own fault. I let someone stay in my life for too long, and now he’s having a hard time letting go. It was my mistake, I will resolve it.”
Personally he didn’t care whether or not she was screaking from the rooftops for him not to question or ask or wonder about the state of her being. Regardless of his own bravado attached to the usual dis-attachment to the world that made it easier to be frontal and cold; he didn’t like the idea of aggressive needless behaviour that came from people that though they could abuse others simply for their own wants. So she could fight him on it, but this was one moral that hadn’t shirked off in his crumbling state of humanity. “You cannot request me not to worry when it is one of my own emotions to bare.” He added on with a clarity that she could ask but he would not heed.
Slipping hand into trouser pocket, “I have seen your temper, I won’t disregard that. However, that does not mean it’s enough push someone away that hasn’t heard the word no enough in their lives.” Jordan shook his head at her, “I won’t press but I also have no tolerance for any gender, any person, not taking a clue when their existence is no longer to be attached.” Considering her and her claim that it was her mistake and how she would resolve it, a moment passed on him.
Letting it seep into the air before he was curiously asking a question that honestly felt even out of character for him, “Do you enjoy battling everything on your own, Juliette? Or does help scare you more so than just realizing the world isn’t all out to get you?”
He was sure that must have been a bit hypocritical for him to even say. Though she wouldn’t know that, he could practically hear the angel and devil figments on his shoulders cackling at his own idiocy.
Perhaps he could retract it but decided there was no use in doing so. Instead giving her a odd shrug, “It’s your life at the end of it all.”
This was a side to Jordan Harrow she wasn’t expecting. Juliette examined his face – as mas much as he could when he still hid behind those shades – her own frown indicating that she still didn’t know how to take it. Really, what did he think he was going to do? Have a stern word with David about over stepping boundaries? Ask his bodyguard friend to go pay David a visit? Juliette herself might’ve been a little fearful about David’s recent state of mind, but Jordan was being so much more dramatic about it.
Tilting her head back and heaving a heavy sigh, Juliette stared up at the sky where hues of light blues were starting to shift into the warm oranges hinting at an oncoming sunset. She’d started this day with the intend to annoy this man to death, and now he was standing her trying to play it off nonchalant and stoic. As if he hadn’t just said things that were deeply considerate. Irritatingly accurate as well, if she were honest with herself.
“Why shouldn’t help be frightening?” she mumbled. “You said it yourself. Human nature warrants caution. I tried to rely on someone else once and they turned out to be a nightmare in disguise.”
She laughed then, though there was very little humor in it. Her hands found their return to their hips and that cool, imperious look of hers had returned.
“So then? Should I rely on you? I suppose at the very least you’re contractually obligated to see I am not financially ruined. Are you going to take it upon yourself to see me well through every other regard also? Our arrangement is all business, yet it’s so tempting to think we could be true partners and friends and have at least that one person that is there to catch you instead of setting your entire world on fire-“
Juliette paused. She’d let her mouth run off without filter, and now that she was hearing it out loud it all sounded so impossibly ridiculous. Huffing to herself, she pressed her fingers against her cheeks, where she could feel that flush of embarrassment settling in. Why did she always let this man trick her into revealing so many personal things.
“Just. Forget this entire conversation, please.”
She could believe he was just getting impressively lucky with just reading the situation with aims in the dark. Actually some of that was the truth. He hadn’t really intended to get the idea of a problematic and potentially aggressive ex with his first few quips. But he also could read enough to know the general idea. Using the means of a blunt nature to avoid dancing around the bush but instead going after the heart of the matter. Only that he hadn’t expected that his next commentary about her being a fearful person that made a good snarl and scowl to keep people pressed away from her. Reminding him in this very second that she was more like a hamster in a ball than a woman with probably more experience behind her than most could see.
She was human.
Something that was probably a lot scarier than most others would think. The standard human being able to accomplish feats of impossible abilities with unheard of accuracy. A hard species to read since everyone was so different. But they all had similar attributes that he could still read. Hers becoming more than ever the scared little girl amongst a crowd of adults, screaming at the top of her lungs whilst no one heard her. Confirmed when she mumbled out her statement of resentment whilst attaching it quickly to the former hurt shackled to her distrust.
Mocked in humourless laughter, he couldn’t fathom what had happened. Wouldn’t press on that for that was clearly a spot marked with big bold letters that screamed, explosion.
What he found next was that look on her face that was raising her hackles. A said temper about to flare. Suspecting that others might have taken that as the perfect suggestion to run, hide and cower into their makeshift bomb shelters.
For every time he had a person turn their fangs at him, he’d probably be a hell of a lot richer. Kingly so.
She spat. She hissed and she expressed all those bitter little hinging thoughts to try and jab the sharp of her claws hinting he had gotten far too close to the subject of her internal anguish whilst not appreciating it. Moving to try and clarify that his commentary had hit several nerves and in turn, she wanted to declare him that of the enemy. To try scratching a dent into his own personal being that might be so easily rocked, till it suddenly ceased. Cut short. Awareness slipping in to calm the verbal tempest. A vain attempt to reinstil a semblance of composure and the familiar cowardly ask to follow.
Just. Forget this entire conversation, please.
Blue coloured discs rolled behind the dark lenses. “As you wish.” Even he knew when to stop poking the bear with the sharp stick. She’d have to learn on her own that in the end, that no matter who she was or what she achieved, there was always going to be someone that was intent on snuffing that desire out. Someone close. Someone afar. Regardless, it would do her well to learn whom to trust and whom to oust.
The man turned to put the soles of feet to use. Striding long lengths forward, “I assume you drove yourself?” He asked over his shoulder seemingly not about to stop any further.
Juliette let out a relieved sigh. For once the callous way he could so easily drop a conversation and walk a way was actually to her advantage. She took the moment to take a few deep breaths, smooth out her blouse and recompose herself. How did this all get so out of hand so quickly? Nothing about this entire merger was going how she expected or planned.
Perhaps if she could turn off all of her feelings like Mister Harrow seemed to be able to do, things would go so much smoother. Alas, she still had some weakness after all.
Another sigh and turned on her own heels, pulling up her digital camera and aiming at the ready.
“Jordan!” she shouted out to catch his attention. The moment he dared look over his shoulder, Juliette snapped a picture. She’d meant to be already taking a few, but he was oh so good at being distracting.
“Send me a text of where I should meet you. This time I promise I won’t be late.”
She got her wish. Attention gravitated over shoulder at the bellow of name. Peeking sheltered orbs between the space of plastic glass and arm to consider the young lady that was so swift to push topics away and to want something more. Apparently that being a flash of a camera to take some god damn photo –internally stomping the urge to make that damn thing fly across the pavement. Knowing it would be easy enough to do with just one simply jerk but that wouldn’t explain the outlandish behaviour. Or how to express that with his distance, the fact that it had happened at all. Knowing if he did, it would alarm in some way. Maybe not attached to him but the freakish happenstance of it would be hard to ignore, explain or scoff at.
Damn pictures. Damn them! They always made it difficult to wipe out all evidence of his existence when that time came to disappear!
Growling low within throat, her chime to text him of their meeting space pulled attention. “You’d have to give me your private number, then.” A hand came up to wave as if he wasn’t about to stop crossing the street. “At the pier. Six o’clock. Just follow the glow, darling.“
God he needed a drink.