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 Posted: Sat Jan 07, 2017 2:11 pm
Quote: Backdated to the day after x
Isaiah swallowed his worries carefully, however, as the day held great promise for unloading merchandise and finalizing a deal. He had with him a manila folder replete with protected certificates of authenticity, and Vargas saw to the careful packing procedures for the shipped items. Even the truck loading went smoothly enough that they had some time to spare for departure. That time was spent in line at Starbucks, where they each procured a guilt-inducing beverage to tide themselves over until lunch. While this was the first large-scale move he made without active participation, Vargas seemed more cheerful for it; the two often butted heads about the best way to relocate an object. Now, Isaiah lacked the physical strength to simply do things his own way.
The drive to the manor wore long, and Google Maps delivered them down awkward side-streets of which Ice second-guessed the legality. Sometimes he wondered if they drove the wrong way on a one-way at times, and Vargas occasionally needed to pull off the road to let someone pass, but even these teeth-clenching moments saw them through without incident. For as much as Ice stressed about another Jeep riding their bumper, Vargas remained calm under the pressure.
Upon arrival out of the gate, Vargas and Isaiah were greeted by extreme opulence made reality. Isaiah often thought such wealth only existed on the other end of a TV screen, far from his own reach, and hidden away beyond immense security measures. Her veritable castle compared to some of the Scholomance research buildings, and Ice marveled at the enormity.
"Snap out of it, lover boy." Vargas called him back with a pinch of Ice's elbow. "We've got some unloading to do. I do, at least."
Isaiah shot him a sidelong glance. "For the ninth time, I didn't ******** her. Go get the handtrucks already; I'll get the door." He left the car with a final teasing insult from Vargas.
As he marched toward the massive front doors, the lighthearted chuckles from his crew formed a smooth ambience. He relaxed somewhat, even if the rest of his mind warned him about ******** up the exchange of papers and goods. He granted himself no time to think on it further; Isaiah rang the doorbell and expected a maid to greet him.infinities i made some guesses on the house so just correct me if i'm wrong on any of it!
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Posted: Mon Jan 09, 2017 5:56 pm
Jada was expecting the delivery, and so she had made plans to be around all day and sent the twins off to a playdate with somebody- the nanny had set it up, and not for the first time Jada was glad that they had kept her around, even if she wasn't fulltime. A babysitter every so often was a godsend, especially the day before Christmas, when her father was set to come in, and Zora and Lucas were off avoiding her under the guise of catching up with old friends. It was okay though; tradition would hold, and everyone would be here tonight, and then they would fall apart again for another year, because that was what the Montgomery-Chamberlyn family did. Fall apart. There were cookies baking, for decorating tonight, and she was wandering around, putting the finishing touches on some of the decorations. The tree was dressed to perfection, Castor snoozing under the branches, Giulia's seal-themed tree-topper an awkward accouterment that made little sense to anyone but her. Still, Aidan was fine with it, and the Chamberlyns who didn't live here were tolerating it well. They'd see how Michael handled it this evening, though he used to be very relaxed about such things. Jada was already dressed for later in her black dress and seamed stockings, her heels sitting next to the door. Giulia's red satin dress was draped over the back of the couch next to Aidan's suit, and everything... was going to be perfect. She had to calm down. The doorbell rang, and Jada's head jerked up, and she spun to peer out the glass. The salesman she'd spoken to yesterday- oh! she slid across the marble on bare feet, and braced herself before opening the door. Hot air rushed out and warm air rushed in, and she gave the black-haired man a smile. "Welcome. I'm glad you were able to make it. Is that the delivery?" she peered past him, trying to see the rest of the crew.
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Posted: Tue Jan 10, 2017 6:24 pm
When Jada answered the door, she did so looking dressed to the nines. Immediately Isaiah was eminded that he looked - and felt - terribly out of place here. He was never one to covet class or high taste; he and Sid spent the better part of their lives together living out of the metaphorical dumpster. Half his friends nicknamed him trashlord for a reason. And here, now, he faced the epitome of Domestic Goddess in her seamed stockings and a-line dress that remained dutifully off her shoulders in total defiance of gravity. Though he imagined, the rack she sported helped to keep the top up.
Slacks, a deep blue dress shirt, and an obviously casual black leather jacket hardly stood to match the place. If Isaiah knew the concept of shame, he would've felt it for his dress habits. Instead, he nodded back toward the truck without heed of any faux pas. "Yes, that's all of it. It's surprising, isn't it? Vargas really knows how to pack. I could've sworn we needed a bigger truck for the lot of it, and now I'm down twenty bucks and a pinch of dignity." Ice leveled a pointed stare in the direction of his GM, who ostensibly failed to notice. Still, the shop owner proved undeterred. "They're pretty good with stairs and the like. They'll put the boxes wherever you want them.
"Oh, and I have the certificates of authenticity here." He pulled the file from under the crook of his arm to offer it to her.
"By the way, I have to ask." He craned his neck to stare toward the top of the immense building. "Do you ever see your relatives in there? Do you have to arrange weekly meetings so you remember what they look like, or know that they're still alive? I imagine I'd lose everyone I was ever related to in here." I think this would be the only scenario where I wouldn't murder my offspring. Hell, I could lose them for months. And if I was as soaked in cash as Miss Stepford Wife, I'd just pay a fleet of nannies to take care of the brats. Problem solved. And I'd have the progeny to legitimize myself in the eyes of America.
… Actually no, I'd still hate kids.
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Posted: Tue Jan 10, 2017 6:51 pm
The salesman nodded back towards the truck, and Jada rose to her tiptoes, but couldn't see much, and she wasn't stepping outside. "Excellent," she said instead, and stepped back. "Please, come on in." She wasn't sure who Vargas was, but she was quite impressed they'd fit everything in there. "I never got your name yesterday," she said after taking the certificates, "So I find myself at a disadvantage as to what to call you. May I have your name?" Jada thought nothing of the way he was dressed, instead more intrigued by the cut of his hair and the piercings in his ear. She looked away quickly, however, not wanting to seem rude. Glancing back outside, the items were still being unloaded. "We've never lost anyone in here in my lifetime, but we do have family legends about a great uncle," she lied pleasantly, certain he would understand she was kidding. Or- hoping he understood such. "Luckily I don't have many people living with me, so it is fairly easy to know when people go missing. Harder to find them, but we all have cell phones." turning, she sashayed her way across the marble towards the living area, flipping open the file he had provided her to begin to review the items. Honestly, the question wasn't unusual at all. The number of people who had been thrown off-balance by the size of her house was not inconsequential. "Just close the door part way, so that your delivery people can push it open without having to be let in." the marble stairs loomed, and she pointed to them- "I'll be having them take a few things that way, the rest will be able to remain down here so I can get them wrapped before everyone gets in tonight." the papers all seemed to be there- mirror, desk, cane, boxes, several other pieces of miscellany. She leaned against the back of the couch, considering the papers a final time before setting them down on an ornate couch table and turning her attention more fully to the dark-haired shopkeeper. She might have a proposition for him. He didn't seem overwhelmed by anything here, and sensible enough. It was fortunate they would have a bit of time to complete the delivery before everyone got back, but not as much time to discuss with him as she might like. Ah well; the house wasn't going anywhere. She would need assistance finding unique pieces to refill the house, and as he ran a pawn shop, he would come across potential pieces of interest. It could be a mutually beneficial arrangement- assuming he might be interested. But she didn't immediately inquire, her violet eyes on him, watching placidly, considering him with active interest.
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Posted: Tue Jan 10, 2017 7:19 pm
"Sorry, I fell out of the habit of giving my name." He looked back at her, smile apologetic. "In DC there's not a lot of want for exchange of names. I'm Isaiah, most people call me Ice, and Enrique Vargas is my general manager. He's the hispanic one helping to unload the heavier items. Matt and Shawn are helping him out." So ended the exhaustive list of introductions; he hoped that giving names might put her mind at ease. Additionally, if she was the micromanaging type when deliveries were concerned, she knew whose name to call when she wanted that box moved three inches to the left.
He left the door cracked and stepped inside at her behest, and remarked inwardly about how his footsteps echoed against the marble floor. "Who knows. Maybe when they find your great uncle, they'll find Jimmy Hoffa too." One arm folded against the small of his back and the empty sleeve hung loose at his side. The slow stroll in entering the place belied a slight limp, but one might easily write it off as a consequence of too much physical exercise that day. "I admit," he started as he looked about the expansive area, "I've been in many houses belonging to private collectors, museum curators and the like, but I've never been in a place quite this big. I don't suppose you're related to some oil barons, or have a rich husband? Maybe you manage a business yourself?" Each option shared a similar chance in his mind.
Soon Vargas came through with his handtruck in tow, and next Shawn sidestepped through the door carrying a smaller, lighter box. Vargas seemed unperturbed at the prospect of old rubber tiers on polished floors, whereas Ice tightened his jaw at the potential dangers. "Is there a place you'd like me to drop these off, Miss?" He asked, the handtruck tipped back and poised for continued use.
Shawn remained quiet behind him; he often came across as shy, if a little irreverent when around people of considerable power.
The rampant anxiety about the fimal delivery urged Ice to chew on his tongue rings, but he knew the sound often put people off, or gave the impression that he chewed on rock candy while working. Of course, the unprofessionalism of having tongue rings in general often bit him in the a** on some more traditional customers. He doubted Jada fell into this category; she looked much too young to go the way of the stuffed shirt.
Okay, he decided. I can chew on them quietly.
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Posted: Tue Jan 10, 2017 8:42 pm
"Ice." Jada gave the dark-haired man a warm smile, making note of the others he had mentioned just in case. It was polite to remember names, and Jada did try and remember her manners, when it suited her. "I'm Jada." she doubted he would remember her name from yesterday, even if he'd run the card. But she didn't know many people named Ice, so he would be easy to remember. It was Matt and Shawn she was concerned with- she'd met more generic names to distant faces, but... she'd manage. He could hear him walking behind her, slow, and chalked it up to curiosity. Not a bad thing. "If we find Jimmy Hoffa in this house, I've got more to wonder about regarding my family history than I was already afraid of." her lips quirked, thinking to the list of exotic names in her family background. "On the plus side, that might let us chalk up some of the electrical issues to a haunting, and move on with life." Ice looked around, and Jada with him, trying to consider her home, as always, through the eyes of her guest. "My grandmother believed in nothing if not overkill," she said instead, and considered. "No sheikh in the family that I am aware of. Not married, either, though not for lack of money-grubbers. I participate in the day to day of the family business; but for the most part, I'm an heiress, and a model." The door opened, and Jada turned her attention away from the shopkeeper to attend to the cart. "I'll be having some of that taken upstairs, Mr. Vargas. The smaller items can be left down here by the tree . The desk will be going in my study, and the mirror is for my room- the one that I have in my room I need to get moved to the library, if you wouldn't mind the extra work. I would appreciate the help in getting it past some of those pesky doors." Jada gestured to the couch behind her. "Just set the small items on the floor. Up the staircase, Mr. Vargas, then we'll be heading to the left." Casting a sidelong look at Ice, Jada added, "would you come with me? I have a proposition for you, if you're interested."
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Posted: Wed Jan 11, 2017 2:42 pm
"Chamberlyn, if I'm not mistaken." Isaiah pulled his cell phone to call up the shipping manifest and flashed the screen at her. It displayed her full name as recorded on the debit card, her address, phone number, and an itemized checklist for delivery. "While I try to memorize my customers' names, sometimes I have to resort to cheating. Not that I needed it for you." He locked the screen and pocketed the device. It's really hard to forget the name and face of over ten thousand dollars.
"Opulence was certainly the expression of the times." Isaiah drew to a stop and watched Vargas and the rest of the employees begin to disperse their respective loads. Vargas started up the stairs with a grace obtained by long years of practice. How he managed to wield a handtruck as an extension of his own body eluded Isaiah entirely. Matt was similarly skilled, but Shawn looked like he needed the extra experience. Since Shawn need only deposit his packages on the bottom floor, Ice allowed himself no room to worry. Instead, he returned to the thread of conversation. "A lot of old money liked to demonstrate its power through opulence and philanthropy. It's become less of a trend now, but… It looks like your grandmother addressed the opulent part of that with few compunctions." He couldn't imagine growing up in such an environment - or if he would want to, given the choice.
If everything was priceless and one-of-a-kind, how would he manage any appreciation for it? What of manufactured goods? What of other people? Would he fail to see worth in those around him if he was bathed in nothing but privilege and opportunity? Isaiah couldn't imagine an answer.
Jada spoke of the origins of her wealth, and Ice kept his comments to himself. While she inherited similar circumstances to Paris Hilton, making those connections aloud might incense her. "It sounds like you inherited a lot of responsibility." He decided, then, that he would prefer being born into middle-class standards. Building his own wealth came with fewer requirements placed upon him, though the rest of the world often judged for how he spent his money - or why he saved it. It mattered not, he supposed; Isaiah Varney would not become a household name due to exorbitant wealth. Jada Chamberlyn never reached such heights and she looked like she had millions on him.
Ice half-expected to follow Vargas up the steps, but Jada's sudden request gave him pause. He looked to her, a brow lightly cocked, and assented with a nod of his head. "I'm always open to propositions." Especially if I'm getting propositioned. Please tell me it's that kind of proposition. That dress looks like it's screaming to come off.
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Posted: Wed Jan 11, 2017 4:24 pm
"Chamberlyn," she confirmed as Ice flashed his phone at her, and she gave him a tiny smile. She was going to pretend he likely meant it as a compliment on how stunning she hadn't looked yesterday, not in a sense of how much money she'd spent on Christmas Bric-à-brac and decor at his shop. She was getting good at pretending such things, and her smile didn't falter as he slipped the phone back in his pocket. Opulence certainly had been a sign of her grandmother's times- and she had turned the house her husband's father had started into something unique. Elisabeta Levkova had been born to a middle-class man and his foreign ( Pakistani) bride in Russia in the 1950's, and it hadn't just been Elisabeta's beauty which caused her to catch the eye of a man like Lucian. Jada had heard stories of her grandmother's fierce temper and pride, and the will that had turned a house this cold into a home when her mother was growing up. It was a warmth that had slipped under Szelem, and maybe... maybe one day Jada or Giulia would bring it back. "She expressed in every possible way, or so I hear." Jada's head tilted as she watched the man- Vargas- begin to pull the handtruck up the wide staircase. "I express more through shoes, I'll admit." her philanthropy consisted of donating things frequently, and donating to hospitals and womens shelters. Now, she'd added the animal shelters to that list, thanks to the twins having selected that as their charity of choice. But her charitable contributions were likely of little interest to him. He'd be more interested in the business aspect of the deal. It sounds like you inherited a lot of responsibility. Jada couldn't stop the short, sharp, bitter laugh, her face twisting briefly. She'd inherited- yes, she'd inherited a palace, and money, and children, and mantles of expec- Her eyes widened as she realized her expression had shifted, and her face quickly closed back down in a pleasant neutrality. Perhaps not quick enough, but she wasn't sure how observant Ice was- or if he'd even been looking at her, or through her. "I certainly inherited some obligations," she said, and guided him to a side room. "We'll be following you shortly Mr. Vargas. To the left, and third door on the right." Gesturing around the sparse room, all dark wood and pale furniture, Jada gave Ice a wry smile. "Well, if you're always open to propositions." she gestured around the room. There wasn't much here, only basics, and the simplicity of it was half-finished. "Hopefully you'll let me keep you busy for a while. My home has been 'shut down' as it were, for several years. Many of the rooms are still being upgraded, but there are some that are ready to be furnished, and most of them were left in New York. Only some basics were returned." her hand lifted to her throat, instinct moving her to play with her necklace, but the item wasn't there. Her fingers touching the hollow of her throat almost startled her. "I was hoping I could use your company to help fill some of the empty places." she gestured to where there were obvious things missing- a space for an end table, a blank wall above the fireplace, space for a desk by the window, a missing chair.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2017 9:41 am
Ah. There's the mark. Ice was wise to the slip, but knew not to indicate it; he trained his focus on the retreating forms of his employees while Jada recovered herself. Often the rich held many regrets in their fortunes. Most commonly Ice found a trend of being cash-poor and overburdened with excess assets, which devalued quickly. More than once he bought cheap paintings off of a man who could not treat his finances properly. Others hated the sudden pandering trend adopted by their friends, or even gave into such behaviors and slid quickly from their lofty perches. Such a house did not come cheap; Ice expected that Jada's grandmother squandered a great deal of money on all the frivolity within.
Not that he would articulate it - while Isaiah found family history to be particularly dull, he would tolerate it for as long as Jada wanted to talk around her family tree. She spared him, however, by leading him beyond earshot of the rest and leaving behind the droll family tales. Ice much preferred the mental (and sometimes physical) stimulation of a deal.
As she led him into the next room, Ice passed over proper inspection of the area. He found the lot of it terribly banal, and chose a gaudy taupe chair for seating. It was, he felt, more for looks than for use - or perhaps better intended for someone bigger than he. Ice crossed his legs at the knee and rested his arm upon the given rest; his gaze remained fixated on Jada as the most obviously interesting entity within the room. The fire, dated dark wood, and windows went unheeded. I don't know why anyone would have this much money and settle for such a boring aesthetic. If I wanted to live in a model home, I'd go slum in one - richness is where you get to custom order all kinds of weird furniture and leave top-notch sex swings in your living room and have shrunken heads from the bowels of Africa sitting on your mantlepiece. She's spending the lot of that fortune on this tacky s**t? What a shame.
I could get married to this, but I'd certainly have some conditions on furnishing the place.
Her story sounded suspiciously akin to the money troubles he found in the rich and richer - she intimated repossession, recovery, and now refurnishing. She must have come into better fortunes of late and sought to replenish the place of its status symbols. And, interestingly, she wanted to use his company to fill the house. My company is best used to fill the empty spaces between your legs, my dear. I'll make an exception this time, though only for you. Mentally Ice congratulated himself on such a thoroughly successful poker face.
"I can help with some of it. Furniture antiques aren't too terribly difficult to come by. I'll need to know if there are any thematic trends to follow - midcentury modern, art deco, art nouveau, whether you dislike dovetail furnishings or you can't stand mother of pearl on anything ever… You get the idea. Destiny City does provide a unique environment for antique acquisition through frequent estate sales and state liquidations where no will was cast, so I think that request is perfectly viable." Ice tried to lace his fingers together, and upon finding a distinct dearth of fingers, kept his hand to the end of the armrest.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2017 3:23 pm
Jada had never liked this room, personally. While Jada had a large affection for woods, and adored the aged, darker paneling, her mother's taste in furniture had not been shared by Jada- or the other children. Large, pale, slightly floral furniture that stained easily, and couldn't abide the lively children that Szelem had brought into the world and slowly began to squeeze. For all the money that they'd maintained, it couldn't buy her mother any of the warmth she'd lost at the taste of poverty, or cure her of her lust for more. As Ice settled into the chair, Jada examined him and found herself frowning slightly at the sheer disparity of it. That was the thing, she supposed- nothing here seemed to belong with the people who lived in it. And so that's what she told him, heaving a sigh. "The house is like a showcase," she told him at last. "This was the room my mother used to impress everyone with unnecessary opulence. People could already make assessments from the outside, but coming in... marble, and a sitting room for guests that isn't... that doesn't express the personalities of the residents." her lips quirked. "I could get an interior designer, or custom pieces, or make everything as bland and boring as the former mistress of this house, but I like quirkiness. I like mishmash, and hodge-podge, and imperfections. Perfection is boring. Thematic trends- I like wood. I don't like sterility. White furniture, modern decor, less up my alley. This is a home to be lived in, and I hope to be able to bring in some boarders to keep me company. It gets empty, sometimes." Jada didn't like empty. She liked the sounds of her siblings running on the stairs, the cook in the kitchen, people hustling and bustling around. Empty was lonely. She didn't miss him going to lace his fingers- losing arms was a recently common occurrence, it seemed. The action spoke of a newer loss, and that would make him the second person she knew who had lost an arm lately. There is some number over 100,000 new amputations every year in the USA, her brain told her cheerfully. Not that she'd researched it, after Scholomance... "I think you'll find I'm fairly flexible in what I like," she mused, considering her taste in furniture. "Curved lines, not straight, give the eye something to enjoy. Straight lines are too... sterile. Nothing overly modern- most of the house is still dark woods and a slightly antique feel. No white furniture. No wicker. And nothing so expensive that if someone bounced on it and it got broken, we'd be mourning the loss a year later."
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2017 2:12 pm
As Isaiah mused to himself, his gaze trawled the room once more. I wonder what kind of boarder would live in a place like this. Clearly it's an expensive piece of real estate, it's situated far outside the city, and it's likely stocked with items worth more than all my medical bills combined. Anyone who could afford a place like this would likely have their own - renting a room seems like a bizarre idea here. I'm no expert on advising, but I'd see this place better used as an Air BnB scenario over boarders. Or it'd make for a fine halfway house for the purified, but that's another story entirely. She would need connection to the war at that point, and who would put their fortune and place of residence at risk in such a zero sum game?
Finally he sat forward and tried to cut a regal fiure despite his physical flaws. His gaze returned to her, and he delivered his thoughts on the matter of home decor. "Given your requirements, much of what you're after can be found in antique stores spaced about the city. If you were looking for some more expensive items, or rare ones, then my association with some private collectors makes sense. Mainly I'm best at tracking down items from several states over, or for tapping into some collections that aren't necessarily open to the public. So, you wouldn't really need me to go shopping through some antique stores unless you stay incredibly busy. And I don't mean to offend you in any of this —
"What I'm saying is, having me do a personal assistant's job seems like an odd fit, but it isn't something I would turn down because of that. I would like to know your reasoning for approaching me on this, however - is it because of potential knock-offs, or because you're looking for some less expensive collectibles? Or is it my charming personality that has you hooked?" He finished dryly.
Ice relaxed back into the chair while he fished his cell again. in it, he opened a note and began typing out some of the main features she highlighted for him - curved lines, nothing modern, no white, no wicker, low cost (relatively). Much of art deco and art nouveau fell into these two categories; antiques sounded like a guarantee if she was certain on him filling her house with furniture. He knew a few artists on the side, too - perhaps they might contribute an eccentric custom piece or two for the proper price. Not all artists demanded thousands of dollars for their time. Unless, of course, one bought into the reclaimed fad and paid the fad price for it.
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2017 3:59 pm
His gaze trawled the room, quietly assessing something, and Jada sighed softly, tilting her head and considering. Was it the boarders comment? Perhaps how expensive a house it looked for such a simple request? Was it just that she was so clearly desperate for life in the house again? What did it look like, to someone who didn't think of this wooden mausoleum as home? It was hard to tell, and she silently considered. Old, outdated. A mausoleum wouldn't be a wrong way to consider it, with the occasional echo and creak to it. It wasn't Jada's taste and style exactly, but it was home. She could sell it, of course. The land would get good money. Or she could demolish and rebuild, but... that would be some kind of crime, probably. Isaiah shifted, however, and Jada turned to devote her attention to him, eyes bright and inquisitive. Attentive. His points were valid, and she might not need his assistance, but- Having me do a personal assistant's job seems like an odd fit, Ice commented, and she paused in her formulation of a response. She took no offense, at all. "Partly because knock-offs," she said after a moment. "Partly because we could have knocked down the prices in either direction- you offered me a fair discount when asked, and you were courteous. Our brief exchange regarding history has me thinking you'll do a little research before you take someone at their word, and... as for your charms, and I am sure there are many more than I've been so far privileged to encounter, those two things alone make me more willing to find that you'll be fair to all parties- certainly including yourself- and much better qualified to gauge an appropriate quality than someone I might hire as a Personal Assistant might. I'm a model, who spends her life dealing in clothing and fashion. I don't need my PA to know antiques." He pulled out his cell phone, and her red lips curved in a wry grin. "Though," she said, and there was open amusement in her tone, "If you want to hook me, you could do more to promote your charms. So far it's been all business, which to be fair, is why I was hoping to hire you. I did tell you that you could call me whenever."
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2017 7:17 am
Her named reasons suited two of the primary components to his job. While he found it a mild change of venue, he considered it a little more seriously for the future it might present. Running his pawn shop required immense work, even leaning as heavily as he did on Vargas - if he could sell the business and move into something less demanding that capitalized on his established abilities, then he might alleviate some of his life stress. Wouldn't that require working with museums for a more long-term, stable job? He lacked the degree for that. Well, maybe he could convince Jada to open up a museum. Fat chance, he supposed, but she opened the door now to alternative methods of persuasion.
"You're talking a dangerous game," he commented, hand raised to obscure part of his smile. I'm having a hard enough time convincing Enrique that I didn't sleep with her to make the deal. Secondarily, this stood as the first time someone rolled out a red carpet and shone the blaring neon lights for personal availability since encountering Schörl and Cinnabar. It felt reassuring to know that he still maintained considerable appeal to attract a rich fish like Jada Chamberlyn.
Briefly he considered names. Jada Zähne? No, she'd catch hell for the parallel alliteration. Isaiah Chamberlyn? The name sounded too rich for his blood. He expected she would have about a billion prenups on top of that, and understandably so.Maybe he'd wait on the marriage bit for now.
"Is that why you lured me in here?" Ice sat back, his legs still loosely crossed. "You're a sly one, Miss Chamberlyn." Maybe she was a Missus without her ring - probably, even - but he had never been the type to mind. Morals and scruples and responsibilities formed the framework of necessity, which he adhered to at need, but this interaction begat excitement over formality. He never before encountered such a situation with a high-paying contact like Jada, however; he wondered if he might actually sink any future deals by refusing his more personal side. After all, she could have taken a trip to some of the finest antique dealers up north, but she chose to stop into his informally-named pawn shop.
Sid would remind him that businesslike wasn't his style. She never failed to be right on that account. High-class girl wants to play a littlle. Let her hair down. All games, no guarantees, mutual benefits. Hard to say no to that.
"Alright." He stood then, and looked almost glad for his freedom from the chair. "I'll tell you what. I was never the type of boy that anyone would take home unless they wanted to disappoint their parents. But, if you're looking to get your grandmother rolling in her grave, I've half a mind to take wiskey in those butterfly cups and regale you with the benefits of having three tongue rings." He stretched and settled more into a natural means of carrying himself, though the asymmetry in his being was keenly felt. "Or, who knows, she might've enjoyed something similar herself."
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2017 12:34 pm
Jada didn't bother to stifle her laugh. "Life is a game, Ice, and I am usually pretty terrible at playing it." Downright s**t, actually; she lost a lot more than she won. The only things she had wanted in life for herself were both out of reach, and only slipping further away with every day she didn't try and jerk them vack. Maybe that was for the best. She couldn't break a dream. "I didn't lure you," she protested mildly, deliberately widening her bright violet eyes in a protest of innocence. "If I wanted to lure you, I probably would have started anywhere but this tragedy of a room." Jada gave him a wry smile, reveling in the so-far-gentle flirtation. It was kind of nice to explore it again, however slight, and however... Not actually expected that he might play along. It was always hard to tell when someone was being professional or when they weren't interested in- He rose, and there was something in the way he spoke, and the casual stretch that almost made her choke on her tongue. Almost. "My parents have always been disappointed in my choices in men- or women. I would hate to break the streak." her eyes drifted over his lean form with quiet interest, her mind whirling like a tornado. "I can do you for some whiskey, Ice, once we have your crew all squared away." Jada gave him a flirty smile. "But you only have to regale me if you want to. My proposition doesn't rely on yours." There were presents to wrap, and family to look in the eye later, but damn if she didn't want to waste some time enjoying some good old-fashioned flirting. It had been.... actual years since she had been the one to try and initiate any flirtation. And this wasn't... remotely close to what she was used to, and her cheeks blazed even as she tilted her chin. It felt... odd. Kind of wrong, even though she knew it shouldn't. She didn't have any ties, did she? Only the ones she gave herself. "And I doubt any of my grandmothers got to know the benefits of three tongue rings," she told him dryly, "And if we don't get your crew putting things in the right places, I won't get to hear about them either." Even if they didn't actually have this conversation today, she would not be able to look her father in the eye tonight.
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2017 4:08 pm
"You could do me for free," he muttered blithely. "If ever you're feeling particularly spiteful toward your parents, you can always call." It wasn't as much an expectation as an acknowledgement that he preferred equal opportunity for communication as opposed to the more traditional expectations. He decided long ago that he could not be made to call in the evenings, pick the girl up in his car and pay for her dinner - this life represented everything he opposed, both in himself and in others. If Jada wanted to play, she would come to understand that.
"Best we get to finishing up the delivery, then; I hate missing out on opportunities to share stories." She thereabout blazed at his prior suggestions, and inferred that he needed to put the brakes on any heavy-handed flirtation for now. The mixed signals needed study - on one hand, she expressed terrible interest in him, but when subject to direct interaction over the matter, she balked almost immediately. Was she having trouble with class coming into the picture? Or had she spent so much time removed from the bulk of society that she knew not how to make a move?
Now wasn't the time to broach it, regardless; Jada was right in that their business wasn't concluded just yet. He saw himself out with ease, and began retracing the path back to the main entry area. "You light up better than a Christmas tree," he called back mischievously, and abandoned his laissez-faire demeanor from there.
As Ice entered back into the main area, he shifted back into his more formal posture in regarding his crew. Much of the boxes were transported to the vaguely indicated locations, with Vargas standing by with a waiting handtruck. The pair nodded at each other, and then Vargas broached the subject of the necessary relocations. "What would you like us to move, Miss?" While he knew he lacked the required back braces for heavier lifts, he could do considerable work between a handtruck and a few good rubber stoppers and cloths. Looking around the house granted a view of many heavy pieces of solid wood furniture, however - chances were just as well that they faced some difficult pieces.
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