An unexpected announcement
Jul 29, 2010 17:22:56 GMT -5
Post by Adrien Baillon on Jul 29, 2010 17:22:56 GMT -5
Adrien, by the time a visitor the New York building was getting accustomed to, scooted over to Adrian's secretary, carrying a brand new Veidt lunchbox with a stylized Adrian kicking a pinstriped mobster in the chest on the cover that no one dared comment on, which did not seem to match his pretty suit (charcoal, with a lavender shirt and a pale yellow tie). She looked up at him with a careful expression, but no longer seemed confused or accusatory around him. Veidt Industries was in peak shape again, and though things had taken a dip, it looked like everything was back to normal and would not fall so far again anytime soon.
"Meess, 'ow do you call Adri-an when you need to?"
"I call his cell phone, and if he isn't answering I use the intercom. Should I?"
"No, I seemplee need-ed to know," he said with a smile. Poor girl; both her boss and his fiancé were devastatingly handsome. "Ssank you."
He went from there to Adrian's office, which was empty, and sighed. Then he went over to the desk, figuring out which button was intercom, before lifting up the phone and calling his cell.
He jumped. It had rung on the desk a few feet away from him. That figured.
Thirty seconds later the entire building addressed Adrian Veidt in a French accent.
"Adri-an? I am leaving lunch in you-eur office and I expect eet to be eat-en - none of zees subsiding on pills and green tea becoss you know I cannot see you doing eet. You are a very important man, and like many important men you must eat proper meals. Alexandre ate lunch."
There was a pause. "I ssink eet ees obvious wheech box eet ees... un moment, I weel label eet anyway." There was the sound of some things being moved around and then scribbling. Then, happily, "Voyons! I weel see you when you are 'ome, keeses - " It went off.
There was a suitable pause, one that lulled the building into thinking it had been spared further French cuteness. But it was wrong. Breathless the intercom announced finally, "Also I made you some palmiers, weef cinnamon, zat ees a cookie."
"Meess, 'ow do you call Adri-an when you need to?"
"I call his cell phone, and if he isn't answering I use the intercom. Should I?"
"No, I seemplee need-ed to know," he said with a smile. Poor girl; both her boss and his fiancé were devastatingly handsome. "Ssank you."
He went from there to Adrian's office, which was empty, and sighed. Then he went over to the desk, figuring out which button was intercom, before lifting up the phone and calling his cell.
He jumped. It had rung on the desk a few feet away from him. That figured.
Thirty seconds later the entire building addressed Adrian Veidt in a French accent.
"Adri-an? I am leaving lunch in you-eur office and I expect eet to be eat-en - none of zees subsiding on pills and green tea becoss you know I cannot see you doing eet. You are a very important man, and like many important men you must eat proper meals. Alexandre ate lunch."
There was a pause. "I ssink eet ees obvious wheech box eet ees... un moment, I weel label eet anyway." There was the sound of some things being moved around and then scribbling. Then, happily, "Voyons! I weel see you when you are 'ome, keeses - " It went off.
There was a suitable pause, one that lulled the building into thinking it had been spared further French cuteness. But it was wrong. Breathless the intercom announced finally, "Also I made you some palmiers, weef cinnamon, zat ees a cookie."