|
Post by Sydney on Jun 19, 2012 2:49:09 GMT -5
It had been a few decades since the name 'Jockey Club' had become simply a vestigial reminder of its origins as a horse racing organization. While the racing enthusiasts still met there from time to time, it had slowly transformed itself from its inception into a lounge and meeting place for the créme de la créme of society. A place where artists, poets, musicians, writers, dancer and, more importantly, their wealthy patrons gathered to speak of anything their hearts desired. Everyone from Marcel Proust to Jules Verne had crossed its threshold. And today, it was Sydney who stepped into the foyer of the establishment.
While she wasn't as illustrious as some of the other members of the club, she had remained an avid patron of the performing arts. She had gained quite a bit of respect in the art world when she became a major donor to both the opera house and the conservatoire a few seasons ago. And though she wasn't fond of social functions (even now as a member, she would forgo most events), joining the Club was an honor even she couldn't decline.
It wasn't very crowded. It rarely was. To the left was the main lounge. Cigar smoke and the smell of brandy wafted from the narrow space between the double doors. The muted harmonies of a Schumann piece swam past the door and into the foyer. Sydney wasn't very fond of many places in the city but she found the Jockey Club tolerable. Maybe even enjoyable.
The moment she stepped through the doors, the concierge left his desk and made his way towards her. "Bonjour, Mademoiselle Howard," he said with a courteous bow. "I was not aware you were visiting today."
"Bonjour, Georges," she greeted as she unpinned her bonnet. "And to be honest, neither did I."
"An impromptu visit."
"Yes, I was just at the opera house and since The Club is just a block away, I thought it would be a better place for my meeting than the cramped offices in the opera house."
"Of course. You are always welcome," he said with a smile. "Will you be making your way into the main lounge or perhaps the café?"
"No, I'd prefer a more private setting for my meeting."
"Will your usual suite on the first floor suffice?"
"Something bigger. My associate likes a bit of leg room."
"The executive suite on the top floor happens to be free this week. Would that be better?"
"Thank you, yes."
He quickly retrieved the key and gave it to her. "Would you like me to escort you?"
"No, I know where it is," she said coolly. "He'll be here in a few moments. Let him know I'm waiting."
((Tag Elise. But you knew that already!))
|
|
James North
- Ingenious Pilot -
a kiss with a fist is better than none
Posts: 208
|
Post by James North on Jun 21, 2012 15:21:21 GMT -5
Georges nodded in understanding and, after straightening out some crinkles in his uniform, resumed his previous position behind the concierge desk. It meant, more or less, sitting tall in his seat and proudly conveying the image that was expected of him as a representative of the club. He'd hardly settled back down when a certain individual made his way through the doors of the establishment, a bit flushed but none the worse for wear.
"Monsieur North," Georges greeted, scrambling to his feet, albeit confusedly. "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that you would be visiting today. I'm afraid your usual suite is booked; could I possibly reserve you for--"
"Not today, Georges," North returned. He looked distractedly around him.
"I'm sorry, monsieur. How is it that can I help you?"
"Is Miss Howard present?"
"Oui, monsieur. She made her way in not but a few minutes ago. I was made aware that she is awaiting an associate of hers."
"That...would be me."
"Yes, of course. Shall I escort you to her suite?"
"Thank you, but that won't be necessary."
"Very good, monsieur. She's presently in the executive suite on the top floor."
"Thank you, Georges."
"Always a pleasure, Monsieur North," Georges nodded, dutifully returning to the concierge desk to tend to other members who had gathered there.
North climbed the stairs, taking two at a time, arriving at the top floor in much the same manner that he had entered the building. The executive suite lay at the far end of the corridor. He was rather unacquainted with the room in question, having found the spaces on lower floors more than satisfactory for his various...proclivities. It was amusing of Miss Howard to lure him here, among familiar surroundings, and he had to wonder what her intentions were.
He slowed to a halt outside of the door and only after some hesitance did he finally turn the handle.
|
|
|
Post by Sydney on Jun 22, 2012 3:26:15 GMT -5
The executive suite was designed for high profile guests who need or wanted to spend the night. There were a few luxury hotels in the vicinity, but it was always convenient to have a place ready for VIPs to spend a few hours in the same place business would be conducted the next day. Since the room was meant to be occupied by VIPs, it was beautifully and fully furnished: king sized bed, dresser, armoir, vanity, full set of seating furniture complete with a chaise lounge and tables, writing desk near the window, tea table, tasteful art work involving horses and equestrians (including a display of two crossed riding crops on the wall), and, among many other amenities, a large fireplace at the end of the room. And in front of that fireplace stood Sydney in yellow and black.
She stood at the hearth, bonnet, gloves and purse on the mantle, rearranging the logs with the iron poker. The fire crackled and sent embers up the chimney. The weather wasn't particularly cold but fire was always welcomed company.
As the door opened, she didn't bother moving.
|
|
James North
- Ingenious Pilot -
a kiss with a fist is better than none
Posts: 208
|
Post by James North on Jun 22, 2012 14:39:09 GMT -5
North's features darkened but he hastily recomposed himself, careful not to betray his frustration with the fact that she'd hardly acknowledged him. If that was the game she insisted on playing, fine. He'd play by her rules. And so he cleared his throat and passed over the threshold, divesting himself of his outer coat and draping it across the back of the nearest chair. He settled himself in one of the lounge chairs and began pouring himself a drink.
Ha, she probably wasn't expecting that!
|
|
|
Post by Sydney on Jun 29, 2012 2:47:56 GMT -5
Looking was unnecessary: the rustle of clothing, the clinking of glassware. It was clear what he was doing. Sydney had expected a longer moment of confusion or maybe even an entitled demand of some sorts. But when all she heard was him pouring a drink, she was momentarily caught off guard.
Quickly, she realized she had underestimated him. Then it made sense. He had figured out what this was going to be about and was playing the game.
Good, she thought. She was glad he was making it a bit of a challenge. A wasted afternoon wasn't something she enjoyed.
Sydney soon put the poker away, walked over to the door and locked it.
"I assume you own a few?"
The tilt of her head towards the large portrait hanging above the mantle piece of a majestic race horse was to remedy the vagueness of her question.
|
|
James North
- Ingenious Pilot -
a kiss with a fist is better than none
Posts: 208
|
Post by James North on Jul 2, 2012 18:43:17 GMT -5
North followed the tilt of her head and smiled before downing the contents of his drink. He set down his glass with a soft clink on the table before him.
"Isn't it a necessity in any household of consequence?"
|
|
|
Post by Sydney on Jul 5, 2012 3:14:02 GMT -5
She scoffed. That was rich coming from someone who, from an old family or not, acted like new money.
There was a brief pause as she watched him: the drinking, the lounging, his smug grin, just his entire demeanor... She didn't realize how irritated she was until she felt her pulse quicken. But Sydney was a veteran in more ways than one. Curbing impulses was no less a part of her than her very limbs. The transition from barely contained fury to even keeled indifference was practically seamless.
"Tell me. What are yours like?" she asked, breaking her momentary silence.
She moved so that she stood behind the chair on which his coat hung. One hand came up to casually rest on the article of clothing as one sometimes does when speaking with an object large enough to lean on in front of them. Then her fingers slowly began to trace the outlines of the lapel. The touch was delicate. It was something foreign in their liaison and therefore, potentially fascinating. And the way her fingers traveled, it was clear the coat stood as his proxy. He was to imagine the touch and never feel it.
|
|
James North
- Ingenious Pilot -
a kiss with a fist is better than none
Posts: 208
|
Post by James North on Jul 9, 2012 16:25:39 GMT -5
"My portraits, you mean?" he inquired, realizing that the obvious nature of his question would receive a backhanded remark of some sort or another. And yet, rather than tensing himself, he waited almost patiently for it. As if he wanted it.
Give it to me, Miss Howard.
|
|
|
Post by Sydney on Jul 21, 2012 3:27:23 GMT -5
Sydney sighed, clearly bored and disappointed at his transparency. She was better at this than he. He seemed to forget that.
"There is only one thing more intolerable than what you are and that boring. Let's not add that to the list."
After making it clear that she wasn't going to indulge him, she decided to do away with the social niceties (or whatever you'd call what they were doing) and get started.
"I hope you haven't misconstrued the reason for our meeting here," she began, taking a seat opposite of him across the coffee table. "Although, that wouldn't entirely be your fault. I suppose it was very cryptic."
|
|
James North
- Ingenious Pilot -
a kiss with a fist is better than none
Posts: 208
|
Post by James North on Jul 23, 2012 15:28:26 GMT -5
"I'm sorry?" he spoke after a slight pause, furrowing his brow in confusion despite himself.
|
|
|
Post by Sydney on Jul 23, 2012 16:28:57 GMT -5
If there had been any jest in her tone before, it was completely gone now.
"Your name on the benefactor's list at the opera house... I want it gone."
Her unwavering gaze made it clear that this wasn't something she took lightly.
|
|
James North
- Ingenious Pilot -
a kiss with a fist is better than none
Posts: 208
|
Post by James North on Jul 24, 2012 22:51:17 GMT -5
"Why?" he inquired stupidly, not quite understanding, not quite sure he wanted to understand.
The opera house meant nearly everything to North. The grand establishment quite significantly provided a means of social interaction with other individuals in the upper echelons of society--but it transcended even that. The opera house, first and foremost, was his greatest source of entertainment. As crude as some variations of that entertainment were.
And losing his name would mean losing certain rights, certain privileges. It made him feel inferior.
|
|
|
Post by Sydney on Jul 25, 2012 1:34:25 GMT -5
His flustered question elicited nothing more than a condescending scoff.
"I'm offering back one hundred and twenty percent of your initial contribution," she carried on, wholly ignoring his question. "A considerable sum, to be sure. But only if you have your name removed from all things related to the opera house."
She knew what this meant for him. All the more reason to push it on him.
|
|
James North
- Ingenious Pilot -
a kiss with a fist is better than none
Posts: 208
|
Post by James North on Jul 25, 2012 21:54:48 GMT -5
"That's hardly the issue in question, Miss Howard. It's not about money. It's about sending a message. Everything burns! But I'm wondering what you have to gain out of this? And if there is absolutely no way that I could...persuade you to withdraw your demands?" he drawled, composing himself enough to perhaps redirect her attention to other things.
|
|
|
Post by Sydney on Jul 26, 2012 2:18:07 GMT -5
"Before the start of the next season," was all she said.
She was resolute.
|
|