[ Clyteus is thinking very longingly of his pretentiously doctored Americano that he's ready to thoroughly enjoy sipping on his way to the bank when he steps into the Flatiron Bux shop. He doesn't spare more than a passing glance at the clientele as he checks his e-mail on his iPhone. The poor mermaid might have escaped his notice all together with the amount of focus involved in the steam rising up his throat from the anger. If they were really going to try and tell him that his meeting was going to be rescheduled with the Russian investors again--
But the tiny store's one guest bathroom door swung open with just the right amount of force to push the scent of sea salt over the atmospheric coffee aroma that would probably permeate this building long after the Seattle company packed up shop. His gold-flecked brown eyes narrowed as he tensed up and with his phone still in typing position looked toward the bathroom door. They skim over the heads looking for the source...
Clay's nostrils flare as he steps out of line and beelines for the little table and scrapes out one of the little wooden chairs and sits across from her, waiting for an in vain for an apology. ]
[Another long, purposeful sip, because she has to be a bitch about it.]
I have to get back to work in about... [She doesn't bother actually looking down at her watch and lending any credibility to her lie] Now. So, as fun as this has been...
[She rises from her chair, trying to figure out where she's going to spend her free time now that her typical haunting place has been "soiled." Cadence's lunch break is easily another hour, but given her normal dietary options, she typically uses the break just to relax and has a...larger meal later in the evening to compensate.]
Banking and finance law. [It's truthful, but hardly a shocking admission with them being in the heart of the financial district. Get your "shark in the water" jokes out now.]
And you? [She's starting to smirk now; as annoying as she finds him, getting his blood boiling is proving to be surprisingly entertaining.] Let me guess: private detective? Professional womanizer? You're such a good read of women, it's so hard to tell.
[And just like that her amusement is gone; her eyes narrow at his smirk.]
I'm not disclosing that, particularly not to someone like you. [even if she wasn't convinced he was a low-key stalker, saying "Goldman Sachs" feels like the sort of egotistical cliche the new hires would fall for....before she weeded half of them out, that is.] I told you before, I doubt we move in the same circles.
[Cadence roughly slides her chair in, gripping her purse straps tightly in her other hand.]
Again, I. doubt. it. I don't know what sort of little klepto-hoard you've made for yourself, but amassing a pile of mail-order gold coins does not cement your place in my industry.
[She actually wants to return to this store dammit; in an attempt to avoid a scene she heads out the door out towards the street, heading...somewhere, anywhere that isn't at that stupid table with him.]
[ Clyteus' smirk falls as he jogs forward to try and help before she snaps at him, to which he puts up his hands defensively. ]
If I'm that fucking repulsive I'll go!
[ Given the number of eyes she's drawing now he doesn't have much of a choice. The dragon turns to stalk off, but pulls out his wallet and (wincing) pulls out a Benjamin and holds it out to her. ]
[Cadence's glare flits from the shoes, to the bill, back to the shoes, and finally resting on him. She shoves her broken heels into his arms to catch, snatching the Benjamin out from between his fingers with her free hand.]
$100? Really? I don't shop at JC Penny. This pair was $360.
[She'd be lying if she said she didn't get a weird sick satisfaction from watching him squirm over her opinion of him.
He wasn't a beau-made-meal, but maybe not a complete waste of time either.]
...Buy me a new pair. Bring them to dinner tonight. Same color, same size, or you'll wish I had used that heel to dig out your eyes like a melon baller.
[ Clay takes one hand to grab them both by the foot holes, letting them dangle from his fingers he debates asking if he can have the money back if he's buying new ones anyway- but bites his tongue. Literally. It hurts a bit. If anything he turns the would-be flinch into a small smile of relief and triumph. ]
How does The View sound? [ Picking the most chic (and expensive) stop in Manhattan he can think of within the past ten seconds. ]
[ She gives him a joyless smile that's more a movement of her lips than anything else; it's gone as soon as it came. She sighs, back to being unimpressed.]
Cliche, but I guess that's the best you can do. I'll be there at eight. I don't wait, am I clear?
[Shes already pulling out her phone, putting the reminder into her calendar with the same sort of disinterest she'd give a dental appointment.]
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But the tiny store's one guest bathroom door swung open with just the right amount of force to push the scent of sea salt over the atmospheric coffee aroma that would probably permeate this building long after the Seattle company packed up shop. His gold-flecked brown eyes narrowed as he tensed up and with his phone still in typing position looked toward the bathroom door. They skim over the heads looking for the source...
Clay's nostrils flare as he steps out of line and beelines for the little table and scrapes out one of the little wooden chairs and sits across from her, waiting for an
in vainfor an apology. ]no subject
Fuck you too universe.
She stares back at him in silence, looking about as apologetic as you'd expect as she takes a long sip of her black, iced coffee.
Much like her soul.]no subject
Nothing, huh? I mean. I was just going to ask you to coffee anyway. But I'm sure now isn't a good time for you either.
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[Another long, purposeful sip, because she has to be a bitch about it.]
I have to get back to work in about... [She doesn't bother actually looking down at her watch and lending any credibility to her lie] Now. So, as fun as this has been...
[She rises from her chair, trying to figure out where she's going to spend her free time now that her typical haunting place has been "soiled." Cadence's lunch break is easily another hour, but given her normal dietary options, she typically uses the break just to relax and has a...larger meal later in the evening to compensate.]
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What does such a lovely woman do for a living anyway?
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And you? [She's starting to smirk now; as annoying as she finds him, getting his blood boiling is proving to be surprisingly entertaining.] Let me guess: private detective? Professional womanizer? You're such a good read of women, it's so hard to tell.
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What firm? ...Firms? Don't want to underestimate you. Maybe we've met through clients or associates.
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I'm not disclosing that, particularly not to someone like you. [even if she wasn't convinced he was a low-key stalker, saying "Goldman Sachs" feels like the sort of egotistical cliche the new hires would fall for....before she weeded half of them out, that is.] I told you before, I doubt we move in the same circles.
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You'd be surprised. I don't use my real name. I doubt you use yours. We could have exchanged a snarky email or two and not have known.
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Again, I. doubt. it. I don't know what sort of little klepto-hoard you've made for yourself, but amassing a pile of mail-order gold coins does not cement your place in my industry.
[She actually wants to return to this store dammit; in an attempt to avoid a scene she heads out the door out towards the street, heading...somewhere, anywhere that isn't at that stupid table with him.]
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I'm not letting you sneak away this time. [ He calls after her. ]
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It's not sneaking if I'm very deliberately telling you to fuck off!
[Cadence stomps so hard her heels breaks and she topples for second, bracing herself on the side of building with one arm.]
Oh, you have got to be fucking kiddi--
[She wheels back around to wave her broken shoe at him.]
Are you fucking happy?! These were new!
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If I'm that fucking repulsive I'll go!
[ Given the number of eyes she's drawing now he doesn't have much of a choice. The dragon turns to stalk off, but pulls out his wallet and (wincing) pulls out a Benjamin and holds it out to her. ]
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$100? Really? I don't shop at JC Penny. This pair was $360.
[She'd be lying if she said she didn't get a weird sick satisfaction from watching him squirm over her opinion of him.
He wasn't a beau-made-meal, but maybe not a complete waste of time either.]
...Buy me a new pair. Bring them to dinner tonight. Same color, same size, or you'll wish I had used that heel to dig out your eyes like a melon baller.
no subject
How does The View sound? [ Picking the most chic (and expensive) stop in Manhattan he can think of within the past ten seconds. ]
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Cliche, but I guess that's the best you can do. I'll be there at eight. I don't wait, am I clear?
[Shes already pulling out her phone, putting the reminder into her calendar with the same sort of disinterest she'd give a dental appointment.]
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[ Lifting the shoes toward her like a salute as he takes a step backward toward his office to start looking for these damned pieces of footwear. ]
See you later, Cadence.