Before six, Juliette found herself strolling down the pier at a much more leisurely pace, spying about to see exactly which “glow” Jordan told her to look for.
She’d changed her clothes again, knowing it was going to make her seem like some sort of superfluous diva, and damn it, she was willing to take that risk. When she’d returned back to the small hotel room she’d been making her temporary home, she felt the need to wash away and start fresh. It helped seal this decision no one would believe Juliette Byron would head off to a date in her work blouse and slacks, no matter how stylish they may be.
This time she opted for a soft striped sundress with pockets, where her phone and wallet were presently stashed away in one pocket, along with a small gift she’d been inspired to find in the other. Her digital camera still hung over her shoulder and she hoped he had a few minions lurking nearby to help take candid photos, otherwise she would have to settle for trying to pose for selfies with her phone.
Juliette had the feeling Jordan was not the sort of man to pose for selfies.
Not knowing what to expect and now being a bit wary, she followed the ominous glow.
The boardwalk stretched long and far into the ocean depths. Risen a good five or so feet above the lapping salty water. Birds thankfully shooed away from the ornate scenery –less they lose some intricate decorations that had been painstakingly arranged, and to keep them from potentially harassing anyone who was curious enough to draw close but not near.
Planks of wood had been seemingly washed. Crusty salt sticking to its surface removed only to be replaced with leafy arrangements. Bunted along the piers railings, detailed with the flowery arrangements to swoop and sweep in nearly perfectly arranged bunches. Intermingled with soft fairy lights whilst larger golden lanterns had been lined in even spaces of four feet from another made a run way along the once sea casted stretch of manmade land. Alighting the way into the end of the pier where candles and more wrought iron lanterns illuminated the space. Archways arranged to cradle the hanging greenery framed by that of the contrasting white arrangements to offer some different hues to it all. Bathed in the low glow of golden light, thankfully the ocean air hadn’t decided to be rather obnoxious. Threatening to take the constructed space into the water where it certainly didn’t belong.
To avoid any heels slipping through cracks upon the spaced planks, out was rolled carpet. Trailed with intersecting filigree upon its edges, as though beckoning the one to walk along its path to keep following to the end.
Where it seemed one waited. Having taken his own chance to venture to the roost that was his home. Removing articles that were meant for business attire to switch over to something a little more fitting for the beachy front. Whilst one’s collar wasn’t bound together by the tie, left open as a navy blazer appeared to be the pop of colour to the otherwise white shirt and white pants.
Merely waiting for the lady to arrive, his attention properly staying pointed outwards to the sea whilst ears were admittedly listening to the nearest little annoyance that called herself, Myra. Knowing that while he truly had no need for an escort, she insisted on offering service. Tucked out of sight to be available for use, he was grateful for the moment of peace from her mouth. Still wondering why he had her around, besides to be a good banter of annoyed wit!
There was no way not to be impressed at the amount of work and detail that went into this arrangement in such a short amount of time. First, she’d never have thought Jordan Harrow would waste his time on this sort of stunning extravagance. A table setting with candles on a balcony at some fine place with a beautiful view, maybe. Filigreed carpet, fresh flowers, and fairy lights over an entire boardwalk… One would expect this sort of treatment for royalty. For a real proposal.
It was tempting to let herself get caught up in the fantasy. He’d spent so much effort on it, above and beyond her expectations! Would hurt to play the part just for the evening?
“You wanted to see me, Mister Harrow?” she asked, unable to suppress a wide ridiculous smile as she clasped her hands loosely behind her back. It was likely all over her face that she was both amused and delighted.
“Is this a Jordan style or a Juliette styled event,” she commented after, lifting a hand to twirl a finger at the fragrant finery above.
Cushioned was the approach, no less heard but cushioned all the same. Welcoming himself to slowly pivot upon that of foot. Turning to soon lay the perch of eye upon the woman coming up the boardwalk dressed to look less like the very thing it was meant to be. Following his own eye along the intricate details twinkling and glinting like polished beads of halcyon. Complimenting the tug of lips to find quiet amusement when the young heiress chimed in that of a mood that may have been a slight dig in a secretarial way. She could tease all she wanted, for having limited time to create something that would photography well and put an air of proper mystery so it could be reward, took real work.
Money too but that long since lost a lot of its value when one could hoard it easily enough.
Although he would have to give her compliment to see that face turned in a seraphim light rather than a dour scowl. Proving that she wasn’t all snarling teeth, all the time –that was his job, right?
Broadening his hands to either side. Gesticulating to the array of flowers and lights in a sort of silent not bad motion. Till she was questioning to whether this was his style or hers. “You think so little of me that I would style this in my favour, peristéri? If that were the case, there’d be less light and we’d be on the water.” Limbs retracted back to himself. Dominate slipping behind back, other beckoning forward in a offering for her to draw closer. “By the way you are grinning, I would say my attempt to make this a fitting affair for the young lady is a hit.” Another glance with more emphasis on the work, Jordan grinned all the way to milk teeth. Broad, warm and without a hint of malice behind it. Practically genuine. “Myra?”
The purple haired woman smoothed that of her trousers before clamouring closer. Seemingly to notice in a delay that her collar of the blue shirt was lifted, causing her to flick at its uplifted state. “Jordy,” She replied with a familiar air. “Ms. Bryon, pleasure.” Thank god she was playing nice right now. “Upon the request of the old badger, I am here to be of service.” God damn it, he was wrong. Old badger?! “Now, just tell me what you wish for me to do and I’ll be sure to do it with a smile.” She poked her fingers into cheek, making some false dimples.
He was going to regret this, he damn well knew it. “Symperiféromai. Ligótero thélete na sas petáxoun xafniká sto psári.[ Behave. Less you want to be suddenly tossed to the fish.]” Jordan smiled through it though he wasn’t entirely bluffing. Sure he wouldn’t be too hard pressed to watch an old friend plummet into the cold waters. Myra on the other hand simple giggled. If he believed in God, he might have started to pray.
At his beckoning she stepped closer and to her delight, Jordan introduced her to whom might just be a kindred spirit. Juliette knew this at once when he was quick to chastise the woman in Greek and she had to resist the urge to immediately erupt into laughter. Miss Myra was trouble and how wonderful it was to know that someone could get under his skin. He was not so unflappable after all!
“I would appreciate candid pictures, if you don’t mind.” Juliette requested, giving Myra the full brunt of her smile as well as the digital camera from off her shoulder. “I would enjoy if you caught him him scowling in a few,” she finally dared to laugh.
“As for you,” she turned back to Jordan, pointing two fingers at him and examining his attire. Juliette made a show of looking quite serious about it, though it didn’t hold for long. Her smile seemed to be permanently plastered to her face. How nice he looked in lighter clothes! Juliette hadn’t thought he wore anything beyond the navies and blacks. It complimented the beachy tones of her dress so well that again she had to wonder if he could read her mind.
“All of this I love,” Juliette admitted without qualms. “You didn’t need to go so far, but I love it all the same. And I brought you a gift…” That she seemed less enthused about, even almost embarrassed as she slipped her hand into her pocket.
“Although, now I feel it’s a bit lackluster compared to everything you’ve done here.”
At the request that her desire for candid pictures, he was surprised that Myra’s smile hadn’t corrupted into a all too widen scheming beam. Filled with pointy teeth with eyes of turning into gleaming demonic orbs with the very idea that Juliette was encouraging it all. Managing to keep it neatly arranged to seem pixie light rather than whole monstrous, not exactly winning him any favours. Regardless if it appeared that Juliette was vocally enjoying the sort of arrangement that was going practically unspoken between the two women. Wondering if he should have requested one of the others that worked with him, under him… to complete this task. But knew it wouldn’t have been as easy going as it was with the purple haired one. Even if she was more of a familiar pest than anything. “Scowling, well that shouldn’t be too hard.” Lashes batted at him with a sense of play. And, threat. “I’ve got years of practice getting such a look.”
It was like she pulled a string. Turning a controlled stare that was a low grade glare towards Myra, watching her do little more than raise the camera and click. “Perfect.”
“I know where you live, Myra.” Jordan falsely smiled, “Remember that.”
“Hasn’t gotten me into trouble yet!”
Thank god –and he wasn’t sure he would ever think that so soon- that Juliette wanted his attention. Declaring a sort of attention on me moment with her call to address the attire that was adorned. Personally? Hating it. He hated lighter clothing colours and not because he was practically the king of the night, just the brightness and pastels of others often made him feel like the whole cutesy mood was a fashion faux pas. It was a dumb thought but it at least made sense to him, in some low unwarranted way.
For now it seemed that she was pleased with what had been arranged. As he was pointedly trying to ignore the clicks and hums of the one making slow waltzes around them. Doing his best to ignore Myra so he could keep focus on Juliette. “You say that, but I’d rather avoid a woman’s scorn regardless of the situation.” Jordan admitted knowing that while this might have been more than she thought could be arranged, he wasn’t about to settle for anything less.
Although surprise came. “A gift?” Not sure he wanted to know and not sure if he didn’t want to know!
Click.
Fingers upon the hand attached behind his back, moved. A swift jerking motion that resulted in a sounding stumble of Myra. Her attention looking down to the planks as though checking them though nothing seemed to have been out of place to cause her to miss a step. Thankfully she didn’t fall over, but he was more amused by it. “I feel like the statement of you didn’t have to is to be applied here, Juliette.” Quelling his private laughter at Myra’s two left feet, Jordan motioned curiosity. “But I am curious to see what you might think would be worthy of gifting someone such as I.”
Juliette was almost second guessing the need for having a photographer lurking nearby, capturing not just the staged atmosphere she meant for show, but also the private moments where she felt a little more vulnerable. Thankfully, she found Myra’s presence a welcome addition, in that somehow she’d shaken Jordan’s cool and controlled exterior and made him seem a little more fallible.
“You are a sanctimonious ass and more often than not insulting,” Juliette started with that almost devious smile, quickly shifting back to that pensive and thoughtful expression. “But you’ve been nothing but respectful and accommodating through this entire insane idea.”
She reached forward to take his hand and gently open up his palm, while she pulled something from her pocket, hidden away inside her balled up fist.
“I can’t promise I’m not going to snap at you every time you say something foolish. But I do promise I will only ever be an asset, and I will always consider your interests on equal footing as my own. Unless you try to ruin me, in which case I will absolutely destroy you-“
Oh, this little speech had gotten away from her. Why was it so difficult to be sincere with someone, without immediately being defensive! That flush of frustration made an appearance in her cheeks again, and Juliette just sighed and straightened her back.
Juliette dropped her gift gently onto his palm. A cool and smooth, beautifully carved opal in the shape of a small dove. Little flecks of greens, blues and fiery oranges reflected perfectly under the fairy lights.
“You are not the only one that can put together beautiful things in the last minute,” she explained. “Now you have a little me to keep in your pocket. It might protect you from the ire of angry women.”
She thought him insulting. Sanctimonious ass. Well, as if he hadn’t heard that before. Maybe not for a while but heard no less. It seemed like the woman that was on the opposite end of this arrangement had a certain charm for assuring that her insulting tongue was always in full force, looking to slice and dice any who came to look at her the wrong way, he was almost sure that his ear was nearly about to be bent off simply because he wasn’t one to drop and grovel at her pumps. Observing her express from devious to thoughtful. Sure that it might be a ruse. Even if she seemed to express that while his nature was not to be a simpering twit, that he wasn’t outright looking to be rude all the time. He literally just said what he thought without the fluff and frills attached.
So far, she was insulting him and seeming genuine.
Taking hand to put into it her own balled up on. Not yet revealing what had been selected, probably so she could speak and of course, to start off somewhat sincere. Turning into a snarling spike swiftly that seemed like it had the chance to be something of merit. Turning over to make it clear that she was assuming he was no more than another idiot that only could tie his shoes by chasing the rabbit through the hole.
Click. Click. Click!
Well she wanted candid.
Clearing his throat, pretty much ready that if she was going to attempt to threaten him again that he was most likely going to step back, straighten out and simply give her the damnable ring in the pocket with the same business etiquette as a handshake!
She appeared to have a moment of her own internal fluster. Eventually depositing a curious little trinket into his grasp that warranted a further inspection. Plucking it up between other fingers to turn its opalescent glimmer before the low lantern, and fairy light. Studying the intricacy that made its shape recognizable. Truly a little pretty thing that had seemed to hush any potential quips or remarks from himself. It was quite dazzling if he had to say so.
It might have been a bit cheesy but honestly, he wasn’t one to be given gifts. At least not without some sort of reason for it, or stipulation or promise. Not that he suspected this one came without one of those attached as well, but he could take heart in the offering. Leaving a open expression for once that didn’t need to fall behind meaningless words.
Glaring seconds next at the vulture with a camera as she came closer to get the documented evidence of both accepted generosity and irked annoyance. Sure that in a quick second after the audible sound of the camera going off that Myra might have caught the serpent slip of pupil staring at her. Insisting now more than ever that she take a timed break.
Properly looking back to Juliette with seemingly nothing off about the human facade of features once more. “I suppose not. It is very lovely, thank you.” He expressed sincerely. Which was like two seconds long as he was rolling his eyes at her. “I doubt even it is strong enough to do that.” Jordan sighed a little, watching from the corner of his eye that Myra was double checking the photos taken so far. Hopefully assuring that she didn’t catch his slip and if she did that it was deleted.
With dove making a proper deposit into breast pocket, he took that hand of hers. To escort her around so she would have her profile facing the photographer. “Shall we continue?”
Had she caught him by surprised? For the briefest of moments there, he might have actually been stunned into speechlessness! Did no one ever give this man a gift in his entire life? Drat it all, if that softened look of his hadn’t disappeared in a split second. Juliette couldn’t be sure if it was real at all.
At least now, with her quiet moment of offered peace, she could finally relax and enjoy all of the frills he took great pains to put together. Perhaps maybe simply because he enjoyed the challenge of it, but she appreciated it all the same.
“If it’s not enough, then perhaps I might have to personally protect you from the ire of many. Let me bite at someone else for a change,” she laughed softly.
Juliette squeezed his hand, only taking a small second to blow a kiss and give a wink at Myra and her exuberant picture taking. The woman seemed to be truly enjoying the task, and Juliette hoped that meant there would be more than enough pictures to sort through for finding the perfect ones.
“Alright then, light of my life, star of my skies. What is your plan for me this evening?”
If he wasn’t sure this was all for show, the way she smiled and laughed with the teasing suggestion that if the dove in his pocket now wasn’t enough to ward away ire ridden women and such, that she in turn would take that stance. He might have thought for a vague second that she was buying into this arrangement of romance. It could have been convincing a little more if he wasn’t recently insulted too but he knew trying to temper that off was about as likely as asking a pig to grow bird wings and fly across the Atlantic. It was also in his wisest choice not to provoke such a comment either less she lose this intriguing little theatrics shift of being actually semi pleasant. He might not fear death and really didn’t care entirely too much about people’s thoughts about him, but even he could appreciate a quaint moment! “Colour me intrigued,” he replied instead. Half flair. Half actual intrigue.
As fingers were tightened to express she would willingly follow his direction, Myra made a few comments loud enough to be heard. Calling for a sort of work it motif that if he didn’t know any better, the woman might have been enjoying being a private obnoxious paparazzi! Actually, scratch that. She probably was enjoying it! If the sound of additional shutter flutters were anything to go by.
She’d certainly assure that Juliette would have plenty to pick through.
“Now who is being sixteenth century romantic?” He asked giving a bit of a insist beckon to assure the space between them was vitally narrow. Not wanting to ruin her photos by having a pre-teen awkward dance space between them. Arms length, stiff and shuffling side to side whilst looking like their own eyes might dribble from their sockets!
It needed to be believable after all. Which meant being close. Which meant interposing upon another’s personal space. “Well, regardless if this arrangement is an elaborate hoax, we can’t possibly skim on the natural proceedings.” Jordan continued, “After the whole get on one’s knee bit, I assumed you’d like a bit of a drink. To be catered shortly after, the space rearranged for a private dinner and to assure that no one would ever dare question those photos being snapped off at a mile a minute. Though you may have to chose which you want, chicken or fish.” The man chuckled as he made a show this time to lean towards her.
Controlling the length of grin so it wasn’t so broad as previous, needing not to expose the points this close. Bringing fingers up once more to flirt a chaste impression of a kiss to their backs, before he offered her one final question. “Anything particular I should do before the next part?” Giving her a chance to impose her will on him or what she might want him to do in the act of bending knee.
Thank all of the stars in the sky that this wasn’t real. If it were, her shoulders would’ve been tight and her body stiff, made more so by him leaning in so close. She would be second guessing his every comment, reading between the lines, and wondering where was the lie and how long would it take before he turned on her. The beautiful boardwalk would’ve felt shallow, and performative an obligatory show of forced romance, making her feel uncomfortable and put on the spot.
Instead, because it wasn’t real, Juliette could simply exist in the space and enjoy it for everything that it was. No surprises or unwanted demands lurked around the corner. Just an elegant evening where for once, she could just sit back, relax, and appreciate how fun it was to play the role of an infatuated couple.
Romance was not something Juliette believed in or had time for. This opportunity was too good to pass up.
Jordan was rewarded with a brilliant smile, wide and with a hint of faeish deviousness.
“Jordan… Don’t give me permission to tell you what to do. I might have all sorts of wicked ideas for my new fiancé. We might scandalize Miss Myra.”
That grin, it could fit all too well in the many others that he seen in the underground. A dangerous purchase of lips that made it seem truly like there was ten other devious things resting behind its porcelain fangs. If he were to venture a guess, she had perfected it to keep on top of things. The sort of practiced smile that spoke a volume of things. One simply had to read its intent to understand that its face value meant so much more.
For now, it could be accepted as no more than a puckish upturn. No more. No less.
“Oh you’ll only have tonight for that. I’d make use of it, as it’s a rare once in a life time opportunity.” Cerulean orbs studied the heart of her features a long quite moment. Departing to properly study that of Miss Myra and hummed. “You say that like it is a bad thing.” Rhetorical response that needed no attachment to it.
Shelved away for his own amusement. Taking step backwards to keep fingers upon his own. Taking that very object to the planked boards whilst submersing the other into the pocket yet again. Bypassing the dove so one could retrieve the plain no-frill box with the sounds of shutters ever present. With due care to make sure that the poses were prolonged as much as possible to assure the camera frenzied lackey. Delicate care made to press the pad of thumb to the hinge of the box. Cracking it open and finding Myra drawing purposefully closer to get all angles. One had to applaud her dedication and the fact that he was actually paying her. This time. So she had to be fishing for that cash.
Although he had to mentally sigh at himself for the next words, feeling properly dumb as this was hardly the sort of thing he would ever actually want to do. But business was business. “Juliette, would you do me the honour of marrying me?” Even if he was avoiding getting too prose heavy. Finding that if he did it now, the words would be riddled with sardonic wit. Sometimes the easiest thing was to be straight forward.
Juliette could’ve easily gone with something dramatic. To coo and cry and make a great emotional scene, that would indeed photograph beautifully and make the perfect show piece to curious board members and future clients. Still, the fact this man had swallowed up all of his pride to actually concede to her demands and create this elaborate illusion – to actually be there on his knees, when he could have (if he had genuinely wanted to) told her to fuck off and just meet him at the nearest courthouse to sign paperwork and have it done with, was something altogether extraordinary to witness.
Thus, instead of a facetious fake response, he received the very natural reaction of her laughter. Tilting her head back in a delighted cackle before nodding quickly.
“Yes Jordon, I would love to marry you.” Once she managed to contain her giggles, before he could get up off the ground, she leaned forward, quite deliberately making sure her face was hidden from the snapshots of Myra, so that she could murmur softly in his ear.
“You’re going to have to kiss me. Consider it a rare once in a lifetime opportunity, allowable only for tonight.”
There was a lot either of them could have done. If this was only to assure that they met another’s ideals then it easily would have been no problem to trot hoof and tail down to the local courthouse. Where they didn’t need to erect an infallible plan that was meant to pull her board members into the illusion that Juliette Bryon was marrying someone that was suited for the place at the head. However, that was not the case. The reason this was all happening in such a tight hoax was to prove that things were sealed and merry. That the young lady had fallen in love with him without the worry that her existence wasn’t going to be perched with a tin cup in her hand shaking it for coin while her father and mother tossed away the funds from a once strong empire.
It had to be believable.
As she let out a delighted noise radiating in what he believed wasn’t entirely false jubilance, she offered her reply. Something he suspected that a proper loved one would have been trying to gather back their nervous belly so they could be beaming from ear to ear. Moved that she would have agreed. What he did was take that ring so it could be properly slipped onto the awaiting digit.
Pausing as she stooped to hide features upon hidden side of profile so Myra wasn’t able to read lips –just in case.
To hear the once in a life time opportunity. “Cheeky thing.” He mused back for her, tucking ring over knuckle to rest in its stasis. Where he would wait for her to rise once more. With a unseen string to give rise back to himself, making proper use of hands. Placing the touch to palm upon dainty cheek, using thumb to sway aside errant locks of brunette. Practically feeling the squirrel with a camera coming inwards so she might snap and lock away the view into photographic evidence, “No biting, Juliette.” Jordan quipped softly for her ears alone –admittedly finding his own twisted humour in that one- as one supped the thin caress of petals upon another. Not quite chaste but not so passion driven to believe that Casanova themselves had arrived on scene! Daring not to break the boundary of kiss to personal, merely hearing that click yet again –liable to be a nightmare sound in his dreams now- before brushing the bottom lip in departure over the ladies curved cupids bow.
Considering her mutely under gaze with them close to another. Adopting a repeated brush of thumb to cheekbone. Averting rings to the harpy, “Next course, Myra.”
“And you didn’t even break the camera, this is a good night.” She peeked up from behind the item with a cattish twist. Giving the digital abomination a quirky showcase finding herself absolutely hilarious. Though when it was obvious he wasn’t biting at her wit, she sighed. Snapping fingers in quick repetition as to summon the man in a black and white penguin getup with the silver tray balanced upon fingers.
Flutes of crystalline effervescence glowing in the low light, offered with a slight bow as Jordan stepped half a step away from Juliette to snag up the stems of each. Gifting the fair dame with her own, “You never did answer the last question of chicken or fish.” The serving boy looked ready to be done with this night as well but did his best not to glare it into reality. Merely studying the heiress so he could signal upon passing back to an undisclosed out of the way location to have those lying in wait to pop up, change the scenery and to alert the caterer of the ladies choice.
Giving him time to sample the drink. It was fine. Not what he wanted but suitable for now.
No biting? Juliette could’ve had something clever and scathing to say in response if she were given the chance. Perhaps even could have snapped her teeth to show just how cheeky she could be. Instead she found herself preoccupied with nothing more than a simple kiss. As a grown woman, she’d certainly experienced far more lascivious things, even relatively recently before meeting Mister Jordan Harrow. Still, she found herself a bit light headed and wondering what the man could be capable of something more than just casual.
Mentally waving all of those thoughts away and welcoming the addition of a cold glass of champagne to soothe her dry throat, Juliette took a deep drink despite the fact alcohol was not something she usually partook in. Being small and with a metabolism that didn’t take well to distilled spirits, Juliette had found herself being wild on top of tables far too many times than she wanted to admit. Tonight, though, was well worth the risk of celebration.
“When on the sea one should partake of all it has to offer, shouldn’t they? Fish is best.” She took a moment to hold up out her hand and admire her chosen ring, before she returned her attention directly to Jordan.
Juliette closed the distance again, turning in just the right angle so she could speak softly without the other woman listening in. …Purely for Jordan’s benefit, as he’d likely not appreciate more than one woman ganging up on him with more snappy barbs.
“I like her,” she confessed with a grin. “I’m glad there are spicy people in your life and not a bunch of scowling old men or tormented interns.”
Sweet low tones of decadence claimed that of her skin, unknown. Unaware. Like fair ambrosia reaching the scents that were best left unexplained, the question came to rest on his thoughts in-between wanting to toss a wordy battle between him and Myra; or to linger jsut close enough to flirt the salty scents of skin and ocean alike. Giving himself an answer without needing to search the annals of thoughts that perhaps he would wisely invest in a private glass of something deep, dark and wonderfully red. Suppose he ought to have been a little more involved with keeping track of his most recent indulgence to avoid any suggestion that he might be more allured to the idea of cracking the seal of skin over cuspid.
Grateful –even if he might not seem like it- that his distraction came in the form of a fancy little bit of bubbly and Myra being a big flappy tit.
Watching with muteness to her expressing to the tray toting boy that her decision was of the scaled kind, taking that his moment to depart with a cordial tip of head. Himself seemingly appreciating the alcoholic beverage as thoughts detailed a few various unnecessary scenarios. Surely there would come a time that he might be inclined to see just how bitter Juliette’s blood ran or if it was all for show. Turning focus to the way she drew close. Leaning in with unspoken suggestion that whatever possessed her tongue now was not for another to listen too.
Nor him apparently!
Practically feeling her grin at the bemusement that he had kinship in the form of some well versed, well opinionated prat that just happened to like to sit on the trendy side of fashion. “Want her? I am sure she would just as good in a diamond collar and twice as cattish if you wanted a feline pet. I have no need for another, especially one that speaks!” He shot Myra a look to the back of her head expressing probably more of his general acceptance of her. That they were in fact friends even if she tended to bust his ass a lot. He did the same to her.
One sip more drew brows to pinch. “I understand scowling old men, but tormented interns? What makes you think I have interns?” He asked as if that was the part that was glaringly wrong instead of the whole torment part. Drifting attention maybe once or twice to the flush of lips on the woman. “You paint me as a monster, Juliette. However did you climb to such a theory?” And scratch too close at the same time.
He spoke of Myra as if she were an actual cat! Juliette erupted into another round of delighted laughter, reaching out to smooth the collar of his jacket as if she thought his exclamation had ruffled him in some way. She tapped the glass to her lips before taking another drink, then shrugged her shoulders easily.
“I assume everyone is a monster,” she admitted honestly. “The rich and powerful don’t often get there without doing something regrettable, or their families doing it for them. It’s unfair, I suppose, and why so many call me one in return. Call me cold or a witch, or something more colorfully mean. But I haven’t met many to prove me wrong either, so…” All because she was single-mindedly determined to save a business she cared about, people considered her a nasty, spoiled, monster of a lady. They assumed her ambition was the only thing on her mind.
Another shrug of her shoulders, as if she didn’t care at all what they thought of her and her opinions… but being warmed with champagne and an evening she was actively enjoying, her usual mask of nonchalance was gone. It did bother her.
And now she was perusing him with those curious brown eyes, wondering why he brought it up at all. If Jordan Harrow also wasn’t so keen on the harsh ways people perceived him. She rather thought he enjoyed the role of being a domineering business man, barking orders and shooting glares left and right.
It was probably a good thing none of this was actually being recorded, for he wasn’t sure how well he would like to see himself pressed into a digital living file, nor how the lady that had been so full of venom for him the nights prior at the restaurant and slightly at times today, would like being seen as more of a personable entity. Although he wasn’t disliking knowing she was a little more inclined to be sociable when the means of conversation wasn’t picking or prying on the idea of let’s talk business. Even if this was business.
But it did make him wonder just how she thought him to be a monster. Not that she was wrong, just he didn’t think she would believe just how close to the truth that statement was. The mundane realm and the supernatural realm were separate for a reason. Mortals never really did take well to learning that what they thought was fairytales, were more akin to reality than they thought. You had the disbelievers and you had the raving nuts that were probably more of a pain in the arsehole because of their driven insanity! However, he doubted she would think him to he truly a real born monster.
One created by the world. Moulded and corrupted. Where she uttered that she did believe that everyone was the very representation of fiendish behaviour. Suggesting that there was no way someone could climb the social rungs to obtain their wealth, their fame, their power by means that didn’t stomp on someone else’s fingers whilst they clamoured up. By their own will or by influence of families. Which she wasn’t wrong. But she wasn’t right either.
However, that was her opinion. One that stemmed to express that she was no stranger to the very same things been tossed at her. Whispered like a serpent to an ear. Guessing that it only influenced her prudish snaps at times to know that people out there thought of her as well, frigid. Witchy and more.
A part of him could sympathize.
The other could only shrug. “Sounds like you have it all figured out.” Jordan uttered, though he was busying memorizing parts of her face to really make it sound like he was being recklessly cruel. “Although, the opinions of others pales to the opinion of one’s self.” Continuing his thoughts, he personally didn’t care what people thought of him. In some regard.
When it came to business, that was a whole other measure. He was meant to be calculated. Poised and ready to eloquently feud with others similar to himself like a figurative dog fight. The difference was, he was seen as a young boy with too much money. Often giving him an advantage by those who didn’t realize he had climbed his placement on his pedestal from actual knowledge. That Rosendrey was his current empire this time around whilst having plenty of practice dealing with peons.
His personal life was different. Able to cash in on charitable avenues and express a softer personality that wasn’t razor sharp because he wasn’t trying to get things into workable place. Allowed to be aloof, to lounge in the comfort of what he did whilst giving no explanation to anything but himself. And maybe sometimes his housekeeper.
That was one fundamental flaw he found. That people didn’t know where to cut the boundary between work life and personal life. That they did not need to bleed into another and that no one really had the say in either besides yourself.
But she was still young. She had time to learn such things. “Well, it may not be any importance to you, but when you aren’t busy trying to cut me down to a petite size, you are quite lovely. Less of a monster, more of a human.”
The shuffling sound of feet drew him to invite her to step back as well. To watch as the progression of man, man and man arrived with two chairs and table. Arranging the very place to be turned into private dinner on the pier side, whilst Myra was once more flashing the camera for more photos. “Are we finished with her, I’m starting to get more than annoyed with the insisting clicking.”
Doing little to control the volume of his voice, Myra heard. Offering her smooth rebuttal of tongue sticking out. “Witty as usual, Myra.”
“We don’t need any more pictures,” Juliette agreed, incredibly frustrated with the warm flush she could feel in her cheeks. She wished she could blame the champagne, that it wasn’t the fact he’d called her quite lovely, in a moment of sincerity where he wasn’t making sarcastic remarks or pretend compliments. With that same statement too, he’d revealed if just a tiny little bit, that all her barbed comments must’ve indeed had some sort of effect on him. Else he’d had no reason to continuously bring it up.
Well. Juliette would have to make an effort to no longer make snippy insults. She didn’t want to be the sort of wife who was constantly cutting her husband to bits, even if it wasn’t real.
“So then, moon and stars,” she chimed, polishing off the last of her champagne before taking the opportunity to steal his hand. “If I am the boss of you for one rare night, I think a little dancing to go with dinner would be too good to pass up. Without Miss Myra lurking to take pictures, too. No one will ever know.”
“By the great praises, thank you.” Airing out the relief from lungs that was agreeable to shoo the insistent shutter pheasant away, Myra seemed to take his exhalation as a win. Knowing he was bound to chop her off her high horse much later, but for now she was thankfully moving on to orchestrate the next phase. Allowing him in turn to speak mostly frankly with the woman of pinking cheeks. Uttering a not so veiled suggestion that when her temperament wasn’t bristled like a cat’s back, she wasn’t a terrible being to converse with. Meaning every letter of the word lovely. Needing not to boast being to flatter that compliment any further.
Witnessing the sweeping bodies bringing their carried items upon the planks to serve as a place to roost ones bottom. Only that he would watch her tip the remains of flute past lips after her poetic start to potentially recite a lyric or too. Instead he found immediate amusement.
Hand sought and captured. Grinning easily as his own flute was shortly deposited to rest on the setup table, “You don’t have to insist, I don’t mind dancing.” A truth actually, he found it enjoyable. “Though you best be careful. Making such promises of lack of Myra taking more photos and I might start to truly enjoy your company.” Offering to take her own glass so it could be placed by his sparkling one, he’d promptly follow up to keep time with the mademoiselle.
“Any preference? I can’t say I know much of what the new generation calls dancing but,” A palm was made to ask for hers. To evidently lead, “What does the lady of the evening wish to twinkle her toes too? A waltz?” he arched a brow, “A tango,” A devious playful smirk placed onto features, “Samba may be too much, though I suspect a certain freestyle wouldn’t be too far off from a desire?”
There he went again, with words and turn of phrase so outdated, that while he took her empty glass from her to set aside, she was paused wondering where exactly he might’ve went to school. Juliette herself had a stodgy private boarding school education, and would sometimes spin her sentences in a way that sounded posh… but it was modern posh! He certainly wasn’t old enough to not consider himself part of the “new generation”. He was this generation!
Sometimes they way he spoke was so oddly archaic.
Despite it, she laughed again, taking his hand with that perplexed, but genuinely curious expression across her features.
“Let’s start with something simple. I can fake my way through a waltz, at least. …can you really tango and samba?” she asked, wrinkling up her nose in disbelief, but in a way that was very entertained by the idea. “What else should I know? I’m fairly certain you must swim to be so shocked that I don’t.”
He gave her a obvious look, “I can.” Not a word of a lie touched his response, taking the step inwards to close distance rather than tug her nearer so he might lay hand upon lady’s upper portion of hip. “You seem surprised.” Granted he could guess why but didn’t offer a sort of expected idea of that. Instead watching her nose wrinkle to convey her scepticism. Though she would just have to wait and see if he was keeping pointed to the truth or not. Waiting for her feet to find their balance before the first slow step was made with intention not to rush or cause her to frantically chase after feet. Or step on his foot… or vice versa.
Mirthful did he give her a smile once more. Amused and intrigued all wrapped up into making the blue rings seem a little luminous under a star laden sky. “I do know how to swim and enjoy it. If you have not figured it out, I have mediterranean blood in my veins. I spent many years on the shores with my mother when she was alive, it comes naturally to enjoy the salty spray.” He back stepped to pivot their gradual swaying motions to an imaginary beat. “Though you want to know more. Hmm?” he was going to be selective of course but he knew one thing that often surprised others when they found out.
Though he mulled it over for effect, “Unsurprisingly I live within the ritzier part of the city. A manor. What is generally surprising for most to learn is, while I have a large estate it is only shared with two other souls.” Jordan kept his line of sight to her own, moving to the tempo of her beat rather than just his own. “My housekeeper, Elisa. A grandmotherly woman who is quite charming. And,” This was where he gave a slight almost boyish smirk. “Theix. My cat.” Then he chuckled lowly, “I’ve… always had cats. Regardless of where I live.”
Then he thought suddenly, straightening his spine further with a sashayed step to sweep across planks. “Should I not be learning more about my wife to be? Tit for tat, as it were?”
Though it was clear she was no trained dancer, Juliette hadn’t lied about being able to keep up. She followed his lead with natural grace, and no need to watch her feet. Which was good because she was completely enchanted with this turn of conversation. He was right in her surprise. It was hard to imagine him living with a sweet old woman and a cat, and that he’d always had cats as pets.
“Oh? More about me?” Her nose wrinkled up again as if she found that absurd, but after a play of pretending she wouldn’t divulge a thing, Juliette finally nodded. Then her head tilted to the side as she considered what bits of information were best served.
“Well, to explain my lack of swimming – that was a trauma I’ve not had the courage to revisit. We were sailing off the coast of Australia and I was very little, six maybe, and I don’t remember why but I went overboard. I’m certain I was clinging to a buoy for hours before anyone bothered to notice. I do very much love to sail, but every time I touch foot to ocean I freeze. I don’t think I can do it.”
Now that they’d dancing for a moment and she felt more confident in what she was doing, Juliette took the opportunity to pull away at full arm’s length. Part of it was just for the natural movement of the dance, but it also gave her a chance to take a deep breath and shake off that old memory. She took a slow turn under his arm before returning her hand to his shoulder.
“The majority of my life has been spent in expensive boarding schools where my parents didn’t have to think about having a child until they needed one for whatever reason. In college I took to dorm life, as if wasn’t any different from the boarding schools. Right now I am living in a hotel.”
It was all stated matter-of-fact. That was just the way things were, and what sense was there in being upset about it. She certainly had far bigger problems to be angry about these days.
“…I’ve never had pets, though. I actually quite love animals.” she said with regret.
He could only spend so much time out on the dock of a ship under the glaring sun, but at least he could spend time out at all. Knowing as a juvenile and recently turned creature better suited for the dark, he spent countless years under the pitch of night. Unable to step into the light for it certainly seared and cooked him like a naked chicken! Wilting his ability to function till the eventual predatory hunt became a need! Seeking out victims with wild abandon until thoughts came back and he was left with the result of his starvation in bloody remains. He could only hope that with his age now that as he continued to live, the ability to stay out in the sunlight without frying would grow. Though he was certain he might never be able to do it without sunglasses at least.
Still as this odd turn of event’s woman considered his question seeking frivolous and interesting facts about herself, making use of the time to seem like she wasn’t about to extend the same courtesy; he found himself nodding to her. To encourage her to speak while he hummed appreciatively to her skill in following his lead.
Allowing attention to listen to the fact that her lack of swimming came from a fall overboard in the oceanic waters. And certainly not a place that wasn’t teeming with dangerous creatures either! There he could give her honest compassion. Knowing that trauma itself was never a easy thing to sway to be an easy to swallow pill. “Well now I can understand. And avoid making you leap into waters for curiosity sake.” Jordan affirmed lightly. He was a bastard but he wasn’t that much of a bastard.
She rotated out on the branch of his grasp. Making a fluid dip under arm like this was not a sudden whim to do, while giving him more of a look into potentially just why Juliette seemed to be that cold hearted being. It sounded like with every second that she was treated as more of a trinket for her parents to wave around when it benefitted them, till he was mostly raising his brows at the utterance that the young lady lived in a hotel! “Well… that makes it easier to decide whom is moving in with whom.” The man remarked casually, following her lead of simply stated facts.
Though he softened easily at the remark of animals. “As long as I can remember, there was always an animal in my life. As stated, cats typically. Though my father wasn’t one to shy from the equine favour either.” Then again that was not exactly fair considering the long since gone man was a dockmaster back in ye’ olden day. Preferring ship and beast for his obvious travels, though he was sure the late Harrow enjoyed riding more than sailing. As occupation was good at dulling once preferences when they had to deal with it all the time. “Though in my regard,” He took this chance this time to give her a renewed twirl outwards on slow movements before inviting her back on the bend of arm. “You may find the cat to be quite adoring. So at least you will have a friendly companion that is quite a pest for attention. And perhaps to be weary of your feet when he is feeling particularly, zesty.”
He unspooled her from his grasp as the motion slowed. Mostly due to the slow arrival of the served meal being brought. Urging him to escort the young lady to her chair.
“Are you not going to be zesty and a pest for attention, Jordan?” she teased, that cheeky devious smile of hers coming into play again. Interesting too, that he so readily believed she’d be moving in with him. Juliette had yet to give it any thought, she’d been so consumed with her anger at her situation and then plotting how to make things difficult. Now that she’d decided she was going to let her anger go (at least in the case of Jordan’s involvement – her father could go to hell!), Juliette was going to have to consider what her life was actually going to look like.
…at least for the next few years. She had to remind herself again this marriage wasn’t real. If she allowed herself to get too comfortable in his home and fall in love with his cat, that wouldn’t do her any good. Perhaps she would keep herself well busy enough with work and business trips. More than one past lover had lamented her absence, it was likely work would continue to take up her time.
Juliette took her seat, these new thoughts monopolizing her mind as she gently unfolded the cloth napkin to lay over her lap and discreetly kicked off her heeled shoes under the table. Confiscating a clip from the pocket of her dress, she pulled her hair up off her shoulders and clipped it back so she wouldn’t have to be concerned with the wind blowing it in to her face during their meal.
“What else would you like to know about your beloved new wife?” she asked, curious to see what other questions he might have lurking around in that brain of his.
There was no reason to dignify that with an answer. At least verbally. Offering the dame in arm no more than a grin. Neither neutral or deviant, it would be left to her interpretation. Deciding that this was not something they needed to discuss as he fully believed that while they could harmonize eventually to respect, accept and understand another; there was little else that would be required. While she might become that of his wife in the legal means, he wasn’t intending on keeping her. Nor did he suspect she would wish to be attached to him either.
It was partially the reason why in his own pre-nups he had a statement that they could not divorce at least for five years. To make it fit them both, to build up another’s motives and such.
For now, that discussion was left to nothing. Not to be spoken and not to be brought in now. Decidedly bringing the far less venomous viper to her seat. Where he in turn could mirror the action. Sitting upon the perch to drape the dominate left limb across the front of his placement. Fingers smoothing over the silky covering of cloth as he could vaguely hear upon the distance the commotion that was caterer and server. Prepping to being the two entrees together, rather than serving one and not the other. Not that he was about to mind if that were the case, he wasn’t the large fan of meals. Even if he hated that, missing proper tastes of human foods. He could eat them fine enough, they were just so impressively bland and tasteless that he might was well eat dirt. Granted, he had to be careful how much he ate and how frequent. Treating the act of mortal consumption like that of a flu. Eating too much, too often was liable to result in his own sickness. And a hunger that was certainly less friendly after.
Floating discs upon her as she fanned out her napkin, pinned her hair and to give him leverage to question what more he might wish to ask of her, Jordan was enthralled. Stealing tips to stroke along groomed goatee with apt thought. “Hobbies? A lady of art, or a lady of sports?” And strangely even if he wanted to quash it, the desire rose. Practically excitement, “Are you… much of a reader?” There were three things in his life that he was a diehard fiend over. Coffee –the sloe mistress liable to whisper sweet nothings in his ear and have him break easily, whiskey which at this point might be obvious and of course, books.
“I confess, I haven’t had much time for hobbies,” she replied with regret. Juliette positioned herself so she could rest her elbow on the table and set her chin her hand, regarding him curiously as she tried to remember if she ever did do things just for the sheer fun of it. Aside from tonight, she couldn’t easily dredge up a single moment! As soon as Juliette left college, she’d thrown her entire self into trying to take over the family business. Everything was always paperwork and meetings.
The few moments of respite she did have were more often than not spent with David, but looking back on them now, they were less of a relaxing distraction and more just… stressful.
Jordan’s question, though, turned to books, and Juliette didn’t fail to pick up on the undercurrent that this was something he actually great great interest in. Excitement was infectious.
“There isn’t much time for me to read now, but I suppose I spent most of my schooling locked away in my room reading instead of bothering with the uppity private school prats.” she laughed. “Oh, but I love Alexandre Dumas! Everyone only ever wants to talk about The Three Musketeers or The Count of Monte Cristo, but he also penned this delightfully strange tale called The Pale Lady that is my absolute favorite.”
Even he had time for hobbies.
Well that was a blanket statement. He had a lot of time to do a lot of things. So while the madam of newly acquired affianced status mulled over the internal workings of her mind, he could only wonder just what sort of life she considered hers so far lived, to be. Something of pride or something of desperate emotionless necessity?
Rather than allow the conversation to lull into potentially awkward silence, his own juvenile excitement was soon branching out. Reaching into the wonderments of hobbies before settling on one of his main loves. After a point of being alive for so long, you either started to learn everything you practically could or you allowed yourself to turn into a bitter, angry beast that wanted nothing more than to destroy mortal kind. He went for the former. Digging deep into various ventures of education but always found that reading on the nights he didn’t rest, were always something that kept him attached in some regard to this mundane realm. Probably for the service of human kind as he tended to be situation on a high stature in the lands of fiction.
However, it seemed that the young lady across from him expressed that she too in her schooling years would hide away with a book in hand. What he didn’t expect was her ending statement. “A book about vampires?” Jordan kept the smirk off his face considering she had no idea how close to that sort of imaginative authoring she was. “I can’t say I was expecting that would have been on the top of being a favourite.” It was best he didn’t arch a brow at this, rather stole the chance to glance away at the approaching server with covered plates in hand.
Stealing a nearly bemused internal thought at the idea of vampires once more. Well he didn’t live in a creepy castle but he did like the Victorian style.
“I suppose it’s not what one would expect from an educated, elegant woman of class and high society.” Juliette laughed easily, sitting back in her chair to allow the server to do their work. In taking a deep breath, she could already smell the meal, lightly spiced and heavenly. Mixed with the soft sea-salt breeze and the sound of gentle ocean waves, Juliette felt like she was miles away from her troubles.
“There’s something about turn of the century fiction that’s compelling.” she went on with a gentle shrug of her shoulders. “Back when the world was still giant and mysterious, wholly undiscovered and brand new. I find it a lot more interesting than the sort of boring autobiographies or angst-ridden dramas my contemporaries are reading.”
Juliette tilted and leaned towards him in her seat, her voice dropping low and conspiratorial. That teasing smile drifting across her features.
“But Jordan, why assume my interest was because of vampires? What if I were more entertained with the idea of two witless lovesick men fawning over me?”
He wouldn’t rise to that one. Not about to chomp on that low hanging fruit, deciding it was better to appreciate her having a decent time rather than sticking fingers into holes that were liable to get it hacked off. Merely appreciating the arrival of the meal coming to rest before them. Silver domes pulled off like some grand showcase that was waiting for ooh’s and ahh’s. Instead he gave his slight tip of head to approve of the meal. With the fish upon either’s plate doing well to smell pleasant –even if he was about to be reminded and unimpressed once more with the bland taste hitting tongue.
Taking napkin to move it free of its holder whilst she seemed to express her interest in the book wasn’t about the whole vampire aspect but rather the idea of the turn of century fiction. The idea that the world was this great big jewel not yet discovered, now turned over to be exposed for every fact. Which wasn’t the case but that was not about to be told now either.
Letting the meal breath as it were, finger conducted their familiar orchestration. Selecting fork and knife alike to balance between two limbs, finding the young dame leaning close as though she were about to tell only him the world’s biggest secret. Not quite as grand as that, but he was perching his brows up in slow ascent. “If I were to take an un-generalized stab in the dark, I wouldn’t peg you as a young lady that would enjoy men of any station or merit fawning over you. Probably due to their said witlessness.” Prongs pressed upon the supple red of the salmon’s fillet. “And to be blunt, most wouldn’t consider it merely the two brother’s fawning over the young lady, especially due to how Kotsaki is well… less than a twitterpatted beau that one would like to keep around.” His gaze lifted to her, “The vampire aspect is just a glaring observation that you cannot simply overlook when speaking of the book. Hence why I would wonder why you would have chosen it as your favourite. If you wanted half siblings to war over a singular lady, there are plenty of them. Less so that have the vampiric influence.”
Jordan spared a moment to hope that the placement of sliced fish might glean more of a taste upon tongue only to be once more disappointed. Promptly schooling expression to avoid it seeming like the very thing was present on his features, turning question when palate was cleared. “Are you saying you weren’t intrigued by the book because it had that curious little addition to it?”
“So you have read it!” she said with surprise, straightening up in her seat. Juliette’s usual cool and usually controlled demeanor melted away as in her excitement forgot to keep up appearances. She seemed to forget about dinner along with it, where her fork became more of an instrument while she used her hands to gesticulate her enthusiastic explanations.
“Hedwig is interesting – I mean if you ignore the nonsense swooning male authors love to write about women – ready to fight bandits on her own even after seeing the others killed around her. She wasn’t afraid of Kostaki and I imagine she’d have dealt with him herself if Gregoriska weren’t in the picture.”
Juliette did finally pause long enough in her literary lecture to try a bite of salmon, which successfully made her pause and sigh with a sound of delight. Not knowing Jordan was having the exact opposite experience, Juliette relished the taste of a well cooked piece of fish. Seared just right with some sort of butter brandy glaze… she couldn’t remember the last time she sat and enjoyed a freshly-made meal that wasn’t just something she ordered up from the hotel kitchen or delivered to her office.
“Doesn’t it make you wonder how Kostaki became a vampire in the first place?” she asked, once she’d returned to her trail of thought. “What would have happened if he’d survived instead of Gregoriska had been turned as well. It’s my favorite because it’s been years since I’ve read it, but I always find myself wandering back to it wanting to know more.”
Nothing could have prepared him for her sudden burst of excitement! Nor could he control the awe that spawned to see such a thing become an animated piece with fork barely less than a conductor’s baton; had she really assumed he was just snipping at the vampire aspect because he might have picked up the book to read its back summary. Well, suppose he shouldn’t be quick to think otherwise, as really that was a way of deciding what to read for most beings. Something he maybe should entertain a little more to avoid the poorly written stinkers that he wasted money on. Though what was the fun in that!
She claimed her admiration for Hedwig as he inclined to ignore the way the author had chosen to write the fairer sex. He had read and heard worse of some male authors, being entirely too preoccupied with the fact that women did in fact have breasts. Needing to articulate in odd ways to express their existence. As if the reader couldn’t take a stab at that observation!
As he took this opportunity to listen and pair the miserable meal once more on a impossible hope, he did have to think about it. “True but then, would her character have been the same if Gregoriska wasn’t in the picture.” He asked curiously considering the two of them shared the same feelings of love. There was always the opposite side of the coin. What would a character be like if other characters hadn’t been written. Would they still be the same or would they have differed into an entirely different design? He was no writer after all, but the thought was curious no less.
Whilst tastebuds sang their little pitiful song about how the meal was less than his iron enriched fashion, the rounds of blues found her once more. Slipping a piece into maw only to be grateful that he had. For he might have blurted out in a spiteful irritation about how he damn well wouldn’t need to guess really ho Kostaki might have been turned. Slightly an expert on the subject with admittedly a narrowed view. He made use of chewing looking the part of thoughtful. Debating her questions in full bloom before the whole innocence of mortal kind seemed to register on her wonder of wanting to know more. Even if the book wasn’t an copy of the truth, it did hint at curiosities that the human mind would turn over.
Jordan took a drink of the flute not yet drowned by himself, glancing at her own with an obvious suggestion should she want more. Stealing his seconds with patience. “The only way one could ever really guess about how things could have been different is to read the book once more. Then hypothesis on the character’s archetype then arrange it in thought to how they may have altered. Dissecting it with what you know and placing it against what is possible.” Offering his insight on how to potentially discover what she wanted, knife and fork came together. Brushing in the slow sawing action until he could no longer halt the thought from rising over tongue. “Though I don’t suspect the whole idea of being a vampire would be enjoyable.” He was watching her now with more of an intrigue than might have been noted, “You wouldn’t believe such things, would you?” it wasn’t an exactly smooth transition to decide on his fiancée’s belief of the supernatural world, but it was better than just outright blurting the question of what she believed or not!
“Do I believe in vampires?” Juliette laughed again, perfectly friendly and more than a little amused with the question. Glancing away from him to eye her empty glass, her head tilted as she considered it. …one more wouldn’t hurt? If Mister Harrow had proved anything, it was that he could be enjoyable company and there wasn’t much here for her to be afraid of. Surely, Juliette could refrain from starting a brawl or jumping on the table.
She nodded her head to refilling her glass and resumed their discussion without missing a beat.
“I suppose my opinions would be subject to the same examinations as a hypothesis on the book. If vampires existed I’d have to consider the hows and whys. What would be possible and what is nonsense. It feels a bit impossible for something to exist now without at least half the world already being in the know.” she confessed with another light shrug of her shoulders.
That direction of the conversation wasn’t what she was most interested in, however. She set her fork down, turning in her chair to give him the full brunt of her attention. Wide-eyed and invested to know more of his thoughts.
“But I wonder, more importantly, do you really think that Hedwig wouldn’t have behaved the way she did at all, if she didn’t love Gregoriska? That love actually has that much power to change a person’s core personality? That’s a lot of power to give a feeling!”
As she laughed and gave into the agreement to have one more pour of the sparkling beverage –seemingly himself making the motion to flag down whatever watchful eye was delegated to be server- thoughts plucked and relived themselves in turn. Finding her statement to be a well worded reply. Attached to him internally smirking that she had no idea how close she was to the truth. Finding that one could examine the subject as one would a book but still come up with glaring holes through it all.
If he had all the answers, perhaps he wouldn’t mingle so much with the human race. Save to curb a few hungers.
Yet, as she came to suggest that the world would surely know if such creatures existed? Well that took a lot of measure not to snort at. In truth, the world did know. But they wrote them all off as fantasy. Wrote them in story books! Things that were of the imaginative rather than realizing what they wrote, was real. It was beside them almost on a daily factor. Sometimes the best place to hide was in plain view. Case and point? This very second. The dame across from him unaware that whom she was aligned to wed was no more than that of the very king himself. “I suppose you are correct in that regard. Surely if such things were fact, then someone would have stumbled upon it by now.” And they weren’t currently six feet under or serving an eternal night.
Her fork being pressed to the plate and the arrival of the garcon to fill the thin long glass once more, Jordan found himself amused at her question. “It’s not really. As humans, we are sentient beings. Different from animals that function on more than basic instincts and lack of fundamental thought about what love, what sadness and such are. We as living thinking creatures that can raise and destroy empires, are very influenced by emotions. Love being one that is so vast and hard to peg that it can make even the most stable of us, insane. And the opposite. So yes, I do believe in this case, that if Hedwig didn’t love Gregoriska, she wouldn’t have behaved entirely the same.” He paused for effect. Assuring he meant what he said before continuing, “We’ll do anything to find whether love is true or not.”
Jordan flashed her a controlled look, “Have you never done something out of your character because you were moved by a strong emotion?”
Somehow Juliette had the feeling there was something more to this conversation that she was missing. Maybe it was the way a muscle in jaw moved, or the slight twitch of his brow, as if he were holding something back. Thankfully, not in a way that had her concern. More of that faint hint that Jordan Harrow had something amusing on the mind or some grand private joke he didn’t care to share.
Of course, that secret amusement was revealed when he asked what she might’ve done.
“Specifically out of love or will any strong emotion do?” she asked pointedly.
Juliette was surprised he asked her flat out, though maybe not too much. They both seemed to have a habit of being bluntly honest, so why not ask your future wife these sorts of questions right off the bat? She sat back in her seat, taking a moment to mull it over. A few bites of her meal disappeared, and when the server returned with a fresh glass of champagne she was it down.
No one would have described her as passionate, but no one really knew her either. They’d only ever seen two faces; cold and aloof or a heated temper. None of those situations were ever fueled by something out of character.
Thus she shook her head.
“No. Nothing out of character. I am who I am regardless of how strongly I feel. …although I’ll admit I’ve done things I regret. But it’s not the same thing, you know! There’s a very big difference between doing something out of character that you would never ever do because you’ve been momentarily influenced, compared to doing something out of character because your feelings have changed how you think about the world.”
“Any strong emotion.” He clarified deciding that focusing just on the topic of love was probably too narrow of a field. Guessing that she must have been pressed to a point by an emotion before that warranted her to act in a sudden burst that wasn’t of her typical fashion. It was a human behaviour truly though might go so far to say those who shed their humanity were more likely to act in such impulsive acts. By far, he was no stranger to simply acting out in pure untapped anger because he had more than enough of someone stabbing every button he owned. Thankfully rare and thankfully only ever addressed to that of the split coven.
For now, he watched her as they spared the time of thought so she might summarize her general ideas. Finding himself growingly more disappointed by every mouthful till he was probably so unenthused that the fish might as well come back to life to flop off his plate!
Eyes rose no sooner. Locating the fetching brunette once more before she expressed that for her, nothing came to mind that she had ever been that impassioned to act in such ways that weren’t common for her. Either she was lying to him, or she genuinely had never experienced something so strong, so raw that it brought her to behave in a burst of something new. Honestly, he wasn’t sure if he was impressed or disappointed. “You are a bigger person than I think most others would ever agree on themselves.” Jordan lent her credit to this. However, he was not so finished either, “In the same breath though, do you feel in Hedwig’s case that she would have been a more compelling character without her love for Gregoriska?”
Juliette brightened immediately, clearly glad he asked the question at all.
“See, that is why I always come back to it. Hedwig loving Gregoriska didn’t matter in that story. They still would have discovered Kostaki, he still would have turned, and they would worked together to do something about him even if they’d never been in love.”
She was speaking with her hands again, and for someone who claimed to not have strong emotions one way or another, she was quite clearly invested in her opinions on this story. Juliette did at least pause long enough to have another sip of champagne before regaling him with more of her thoughts.
“Then Gregoriska dies and this is where love makes a difference. If she didn’t love him, she might go on to France and never think about it again. Yet she did. She married him and then he died! Can she ever really move on? Does she ever try to find the one that turned Kostaki and by extension is at fault for Gregoriska’s death? Does she grow into a haunted vampire hunter! How did she live the rest of her life.”
It would appear he had found the question that made her animated once more. Moving with the full of body giving arms reach and articulation to add emphasis. Allowing him in turn to be the attentive audience for both the theatrical flings and the explanation that had her so enamoured to explain it all. Which in all fairness, she wasn’t wrong. Suppose in the roundabout way, perhaps he was still a romantic. Though maybe that too should have shed with the skin of humanity. A part of him truly believed that if they didn’t have love in the story, it wouldn’t have had the same compulsion. It wouldn’t have reached as broadly as it might have and it would have just been another adventure story of supernatural proportions. It didn’t sound as enthralling to him.
But this was her favourite book after all, not his.
Brows arched on cue to her continuation. To point out that where it mattered was when Gregoriska perished. That if he had not been there as the love plot that was unified with Hedwig, then she would have had many other opportunities. Some that he found properly expressive and the whole idea of a vampire hunter partially too close to the surface. Making him once more glad for the less than thrilling meal.
Still he thought about it. Mulling it over on tongue and on brain. Finishing what he could of the meal before setting cutlery into the two o’clock position to signify he was satisfied with the dinner. “Well then I suppose putting yourself into her role, might offer insight?” Jordan folded his hands before his chin. Elbows rested to table, “If it were you, what would you do with the rest of your life?”
“Oh, vengeance. It was absolutely be vengeance.” she responded immediately with a wide, unapologetic smile. Juliette doubted that admission would be a surprise. After all, when she first met him she was ready for a fight.
Not having the same issues with her meal as Jordan, she picked up her fork and resumed eating, pausing long enough between bites to elaborate.
“Mind you, this is the assumption that I loved someone that much. My husband dies having to kill his own brother? I would never let it go! I’d search the world to find out how it all started and be sure that it never happened again.”
There were many women who would pick at and only pretend to eat their food, fearing it’d make them look undainty. Juliette certainly didn’t have that issue, quite contently polishing off what was on her plate without a single care. Once she’d set her silverware down, she resumed nursing her champagne – this time with a little less speed.
“What would you do, Jordan?” she turned the question back at him, that impish look sneaking it’s way back. “You lost the love of your life, how would you go on?”
Clearly it was not meant to be a claim for that of stunted awe, rather her proclamation of vengeance had barely gotten a side look out of him. Finding that she was at least a fiery spirited sort that wouldn’t allow the credit or loss of information to ever slip through her fingers. If they weren’t in this for various reasons to better another’s business he might have been either appalled in some humanoid idea or he could have scoffed at the very statement. Neither present, he offered to listen. Perhaps wondering if there was a stronger idea to why she would claim vengeance to be on her top of the list should her place have been Hedwig’s.
As he took the stem of drink, it was quietly polished to the end. A few drops left, replaced and tempered down the snide bemusing smirk that was trying to take his lips for a ride.
Finding it truly funny that she would think that her idea of never happened again could be so victorious. But he was sitting on a figurative mound of bodies that were attached to the very opposite of what she was speaking of.
They were monsters. Real ones. Ones that weren’t like what was written in stories. Although, sometimes they came close. Others were so far off that it was more of a laugh to read them than anything! However, as she cleaned her plate to make sure it wasn’t wasted; she took that glass. Raising it up to act as though it were a claim to her posture for this moment. Drawing eye.
Finding that her return of original question was just enough to dance across a skein of too close to reality. Her impish look nearly pressing a button unknowingly whilst she followed the statement up with clarity.
Lips parted. Then drew closed. Making a face as though he were truly thinking over the matter as to suggest it was worth thinking on! Eventually, “It depends.” One began, “If I were a man who lived in such a century, the idea of love was practically poetic. It meant more than it means now, divorce was an idea of blasphemy. Love didn’t happen the same way it does in our era, it was… well,” he opened a hand to gesture between them, “With one’s class, it was often done as business. Not as affection. But had I been the one in that moment and had the rare chance to love without constrains…” He drew out the pause for a long time.
Eyes dispatching away from the table to look upon the ocean. As though it had the precise answer. “I don’t think vengeance would be my answer. Curiosity, yes. But in the end, even if I were to discover the why, who is to say it would bring any peace once it was finished?” Brows pressed upon another into a tight black pinch. “That’s the problem there. One assumes that if you find all the answers and finish what is unfinished, that it suddenly feels complete. When in reality, if you do your part. It all ends and never happens again, does that bring back the one you lost?” Jordan shook his head, “What use is vengeance when it is simply an ugly filler for the empty space where love once rested? Besides making one bitter, ugly and hateful? It doesn’t fix what was already done.”
“Hmm, I think you might be right.” she agreed, finishing the last of her champagne and setting the glass down gently on the table before sitting back in her own seat. It did legitimately make Juliette stop and pause. First, because she hadn’t pegged Jordan as the romantic type. He described love as something poetic and meaningful, which was quite the opposite contrast to how he seemed to carry himself and behave.
Then again, he did create this entire beautiful illusion all of his own accord. Giving her more than she asked for or ever expected.
Secondly, she couldn’t ignore his thoughts on vengeance being of sound logic. Why fight and fuss when you can’t change what has happened? Juliette was always fighting for something, and though it wasn’t for vengeance, sometimes she had to wonder what she was going to accomplish in the end.
Blast it, she was really starting to like Jordan Harrow.
“Alright then, if not vengeance would you dare move on and try to fill that void with new love? You have me quite curious now, Jordan!”
It was the matter of different opinions. She believed previously in one way, he in the other. Both having their chance to express those verbally so one could hear and perhaps see another side to the conversation without having to raise hackles and bang fists to tables. Where one’s opinion was just that. Their opinion! Each person was entitled to their own, but it had nothing to do with forcing it down another’s throat. He felt that in this matter, so long as he could voice something he did feel strongly enough about –in real ways considering his era of birth was certainly centuries ago-, he could valid his thoughts with actual fact. Unknown to Juliette, but known to him.
So as she suggested after a moment that he might be right, it was in his best interest to study her. To search for a breath whether or not she was simply saying this because she could or if she really meant it. Seemingly to discover she was on the latter rather than the former.
But of course, it wasn’t precisely the end of it either. Her want to know more was showing, seeking a sense of justifiable reasoning to why he might seek the route of his expression.
Lids drew a little with thoughtful abundance. Grazing their cobalt rings over the dinner that had been picked upon by another’s respective side. “You don’t ever fill that first love, Juliette.” His words were strangely solemn. Almost too heartfelt.
Exposing.
“One can’t stay in a stagnant immobilization. It’s human nature to move forward and to resist that is just fighting a force of nature. Perhaps not always in the most obvious ways, but when you root yourself to a particular situation, you limit yourself. You hinder yourself. You eventually become so ground down in that very specific moment that you don’t even realize that you’ve still moved on. In ways of sick hyper focus. Exhausting yourself to be only functional and only dedicated like a dog to a bone to that moment. In this case, it would be foolish to say that I would never move on. Because you are never the same as the previous second. And for me,” Jordan frowned strangely, “I wouldn’t ever fill that placement of that first sincere love, but I wouldn’t every be able to replace it the same way. All I could do if that was me, was value it.”
He plucked up the napkin then to work it diligently over each finger, mostly to keep his hands busy. “I cherish what I had. Appreciate what I learnt in that time. What I felt. What it did for me and revealed whilst honouring the person that in the end, was taken too soon. Whilst taking what it all encompasses and hope that in the future, if I had the chance to love another, that I wouldn’t treat them as a replacement. But I would have knowledge, wholesome knowledge, that the things before learnt are the things that are valued, important and worth giving to another. To make it genuine.”
Shoulders shrugged then. “It’s perspective. What use is it to constantly be angry? To constantly be miserable. To constantly feud when in reality, you could take what you learnt and construct it to do better. To more. Be more.” Eyes rose to her, “Eventually everyone has to move on otherwise, you never grow.”
“That’s actually quite lovely,” she replied, unable to mask that slight sense of awe. Somewhere along the way Juliette had hit on something personal, something that caused him to drop his usual airs and be genuinely candid. Jordan Harrow had once loved someone so deeply that it left a mark on him and Juliette had nothing in her experience to compare. Certainly she cared about David, once. But love him? Certainly not to the extent that there was a hole left in her heart.
Choosing not to dig into to the man and ask too personal of a question when he was trusting her enough to expose a vulnerable moment with her, Juliette kept their conversation safely about the story.
“I think you’ve changed my mind about Hedwig’s future.” she laughed with a wrinkle of her nose. “I rather like the idea that instead of spending her life bitter over her loss, that maybe one day she was able to settle somewhere and fall in love again. To marry and have a family.”
“Mind you,” she did pause, leaning her elbows and arms on the table, that challenging look across her features. “I bet she still looked for answers. Answers to close that chapter of her life and to help her move on to the next one.”
So the damsel sat across from him wasn’t so obtuse that she couldn’t have her thoughts corrected. Changed with a different perspective given so long as it had valuable reason to it. That would prove to be a good little tidbit to tuck behind his ear. Shelved away for future need should it arise. Making the prickly exterior seemly less likely to share the same skin as that of a cactus.
Colouring his gaze to sweep upon her whilst she claimed that her thoughts have been swayed in favour of the stories original ending, he could appreciate her ability to accept different viewpoints. That alone was something he could value with earnestly. For it took a bigger person to admit when their opinions were changed from the former due to presentation of new information. Rather than sticking to it like a staunch believer that made them simply narrow minded and unbending.
Opinions could change, that was something many people needed to learn. One didn’t have to stay the same!
As limbs were crossed upon the table with the presentation of a challenging gleam, he in turn met it with that arched brow. Silently encouraging her to continue before he gave a easy laugh. “Well that part I can’t deny. After all, if you have an encounter such as that, surely you don’t just roll over after and pretend that such things never existed! Seeking answers to help obtain closure on top of it, sounds like a far healthier way than just burying it like a tell-tale heart.” He suggested leaving the observation on what he meant to her.
Next folding ankle to roost upon knee. Hand to ankle and other back to features to cup upon cheek. Glancing upon cleaned plate of Juliette’s, “Usually I’d forgo asking whether the lady is wanting dessert as most would be attempting to feign delicate natures, but in this case?” He simply used his eyes to gesture if she wanted that final course, “Otherwise I believe our evening may be coming to a finality.” Jordan had a short unusual look come and run from visage, “I still have work to do this evening, as my afternoon had been suddenly arranged.”
“You rose to this distraction without complaint, the least I can do is let you return to work without a fuss,” she replied congenially with a shrug of her shoulders. There was the temptation to accept dessert and extend their conversation on into the night. Juliette had never expected he’d actually turn out to be pleasant company. But with the nature of their agreement, there were going to be many more opportunities, and now she was quite curious to see what else he could pull out of his sleeve. Albeit with a little more notice beforehand.
“May I suggest dessert another day? After all, there are many more arrangements to be made. I imagine we’ll be spending quite a bit of time together.”
That statement reminded her that he alluded to her moving into his home, and though she relished the idea of getting out of the hotel into a more personal space, Juliette wasn’t sure she was comfortable moving into someone else’s. Even with a potential feline companion. She didn’t wish to spoiled what turned out to be a pleasant evening, however, and kept that concern to herself.
Whether or not he had risen to this challenge without complaint was left to be questioned. It may not have been outwardly but internally? Perhaps it had been a slew of insults and begrudging annoyances stacked so high that it could have made the princess and the pea story seem small. One was wise not to mention this, instead offering a tempered simper that was pleased she wasn’t about to suggest more needed to be done. At least for now.
He was no fool, there was clearly going to be more demands in the future and he’d have to be on his tippy toes to try to keep on alert.
“Ah, that would be the truth of it.” Jordan agreed with the idea that they would of course be seeing another more frequently. “Though I suppose—” A conscious motion was made to whomever was lurking nearby enough to witness the gesture for the dinner’s end, the atramentous man gave his gaze a slight push backwards. Scrapping its feet over the planks of wood, signalling his rise once more. “We’ll have to arrange the idea of meeting another’s company sooner than later. To assure this all goes to plan.”
Once feet were steady, he’d approach her side. Offering hand to escort the madam to her own feet, being sure to keep the part of gentleman well present. “Though perhaps we might be able to combine such an affair. It is an old behaviour but glitzy no less.” A brow lifted to signal he was about to reveal his course of action, “What of an engagement party? We can hold it at the manor, so you may also see the home in which is better than a hotel. Hopefully. Two birds, one stone?”
Juliette wasn’t able to hide her surprise that he not only brought up his home again, but a planned event to go with it, though she recovered quickly enough and accepted his hand to rise gracefully from her seat. Truth be told, she hadn’t even considered the potential of an engagement party – all of her focus had been on the wedding event itself and all the planning that’d entail.
Now that she’d seen what Jordan Harrow could pull together in a simple afternoon, she was quite curious to see what else he could do. The opportunity to preview his home would at least give her a chance to decide if moving in with him would even be a prudent choice.
“Are you worried about your fiancé all alone in a posh hotel, Jordan?” she teased gently. “Color me intrigued, then! A engagement party may be under your preview. I can send you a list of my preferred guests.”
Low and airy came the chuckle in swift reply at her commentary. To think that he might be worried was not particularly the case, but rather, he was attempting to give her a chance to view the homestead without the awkward suggestion of just coming over. Plus, he was attempting to sway her mindset as well. To be thoughtful in a way. Instead to offer the idea of arranging an engagement party to show that while he had no desire to really be involved, he wouldn’t shirk it entirely either. Add on that this would give implication that they cared more about another than simply arranging this as a business plan, the better.
To lure in both sides of the equation, especially to avoid any bumbles or hiccups in convincing her board of directors. “Not entirely worried.” He suggested back to her, “Instead making sure any loose ends to our decision isn’t forgotten. The more we make the effort of our arrangement, the better off it will seem we are genuine.” Implying it to her that this was for her benefit. That if he did this and within his home, surely it would suggest that he was intending on being solely loaned to her and her alone.
With a step back so they might rise away from the makeshift table, head was bowed in easy agreement. “Good, that will certainly make things easier. Perhaps we should set the date up for the end of next week, upon that of a Saturday. To make it appear we have been planning but at the same time, not rushing to the immediate end. This should allow enough time for invitations and to allow those of suspicious thought to stew upon whether this is a ploy or not.” Jordan mused openly. “I’ll arrange everything. Shall this be an intimate gathering or would you prefer it to be extravagant?”
“Hmn, I don’t need extravagance but I suspect our guests may want a good show,” she replied thoughtfully. Juliette supposed she also needed to invite her parents, regardless of how she felt about them. Having them there would both solidify that she were in charge now, as well as displaying that to the board and clients.
“Good wine and good catering is all that’s necessary, though I would be delighted if you had a dungeon to throw annoying guests in.” After s small laugh at her own joke, she took the opportunity to squeeze his hand, and lean up on her toes for a quickly friendly kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you for dinner, Jordan. Though I do need Miss Myra to return my camera.”
As much as he mentally laboured at the fact that this party would need some grandeur to assure that the guests were properly mesmerized, he knew it was necessary. Reminding himself with little internal tabs that he would have to assure the lower part of the basement was properly disclosed behind its secretive bookcase, there was little else that would entirely need dutiful watching. It wasn’t as though he kept his true nature out on display for any Tom, Dick or Harry to stumble upon. The manor itself was mostly as what one might suspect. Ostentatious enough to host events but liveable in every other aspect. Perhaps odd for a bachelor to have such a lavish abode.
So as she expressed good wine –why was it always wine? His distaste for the frou frou drink chipping away at the ridges of thoughts- and catering, it was easy enough to nod. And easy enough to pause at her following quip.
Bemusement settled swiftly, “I may not have that—” Well, not that he was willing to say, “But I am sure we could always corral the annoying ones into a corner.” The squeeze to his hand seemed to affirm that her joke was just that. A joke. Although maybe he wasn’t kidding.
Whatever sort of commentary that could have arisen in that second was properly dulled to silence. Gingerly surprised that she would even plant a chaste peck upon cheek, allowing any hackles to remain placid.
Lending the modern debutante no less than a genuine yet crooked smirk. Suddenly to roll his eyes at the mention of the camera. “But of course.” A hand gestured for her to follow him at least to walk her along the detailed boardwalk to the main artery of the dock, “She’ll just be finishing conducting the clean up.” Jordan pointed with index towards the right of the branching path. Not that he was about to let the lass meander unaccompanied to the end, promptly inviting her to tag alongside. As if she might get lost down the path when it was clearly only one direction to go.
At least till the end of it where he would stop. Separating to settle elbow upon railing, giving no more than an obvious clearing of throat that paused one of the few employees for this private event. “Be so kind to escort the lady to that of Myra.”
The waiter –best cause scenario- nodded. Motioning for Juliette to follow him at her discretion. “Rest easy, Juliette.” Were his departing words. Simply hanging on until he was sure both woman and servant were properly out of ear shot so he might depart. Glancing only once across his shoulder towards the dinner service, then upwards. Narrowing the glint of felid rings onto the night sky. There was much to plan still.
Juliette arrived back at her hotel room a short time later, letting herself into her suite with her keycard and then flipped on the lights. She nearly jumped out of her own skin to find David sitting there at the breakfast table. The remains of lunch were still there, along with the overturned wine glass that’d prompted her last minute wardrobe changes making her late for meeting Jordan at the Jewelers.
“How long have you been sitting there?” she asked, cooly, ignoring the chill that ran down her spine. He hadn’t looked like he’d moved a muscle since she’d left, which was certainly an issue because he hadn’t been there when she returned from the Jewelers to change for dinner.
“Is that the ring then? It’s all official?” he asked, ignoring her question.
Juliette looked down at the gemstone on her hand, frowned, then sit her things aside on a table near the door.
“You’re not even going to respond? After everything we’ve been-“
“You were trying to hold me hostage in my own hotel room, you crazy bastard!” Juliette shouted back. “We’ve been done a long time, David. Just get out before I page up hotel security to escort you out.”
He did finally rise from his chair, snatching up his suit jacket in the process. As he marched for the door, Juliette stepped aside and gave him a wide berth. Before exited the threshold he paused and turned back to her.
“He’s not who you think he is, you know. If you marry him, you’ll regret it.”
Once he was gone, Juliette rang up hotel security and made sure he was banned from the premises.
Thankfully, over the next few days he didn’t make any more surprise appearances.