Enzo's appointment was concluded with a selection, and subsequent approval by M. White, before a purchase. Obviously the suit would take some days to be tailored so that the sleeves fell correctly to the wrist, the darting would taper across his narrow waist finely, and the length of the leg taken up. Otherwise, the suit was well made for him. Enzo was fairly short by typical shopper standards, so the jacket had a lower button stance. The lapel and tie was likewise narrow. The suit itself was a dark blue with a faint vertical line running throughout. A slim line of white peaked out from the cuff. A slim magenta tie set off his chest. He owned nothing that would serve for proper accessories: the sort of thing a trained eye would judge. Watches, cufflinks, shoes, etc, but all in all, he was satisfied. He probably looked better today than on his wedding day. Once M. White signed off, he made his way to the reception to meet Emily.
She waited for him, as she promised. He put on a polite smile and asked if she was ready to go. "Which hotel are you staying at?"
He asked absently. She would be the one to lead this walk, unless per chance he had already passed it on one of his.
White remained quiet as the two went their separate ways, following Enzo into the men's portion of the store to finish getting sized. One of the staff brought him a loaner shirt and jacket; they weren't near the quality usually offered by Imperial Tailors, but they were fairly well sized to his build and fit well enough to get him through the day.
That done, much of their time while Enzo was being sized and making his choices of attire and style was spent going over the contents of the file White had give him. The man didn't need to master the information, but enough that he neither pissed off nor drew the attention of anyone of particular note that may have been encountered there. The last thing the Atharim needed was some airheaded CCD princess getting infatuated with the 'boarish, provincial frenchman' and having her people try to hunt the man down.
Once the work was complete, he followed Enzo back out to the main room, adopting his role as bodyguard, and would hang back to allow the two a chance to converse on their way back to the hotel. He of course explained his reasoning to Enzo. The man was a bit stiff around the collar, and an opportunity to rub elbows with a rich-and-famous would help ease the man into the idea of fitting in at Manifesto. Not that Emily seemed much a match for the sorts of rich twits that haunted that ridiculous place.
Emily gave Enzo and Mr. White approach. She approached Mr. White and gave him one of her own business cards. When Enzo asked where she was staying,she responded with her smile.
"The National...its not far."
Emmily put on her coat, hat, and gloves and they headed out. Mr. White stayed a ways back and Emily feltalmost unaware of his prescense. She wanted to get to know Enzobetter. She held the envelope in her left hand and thumbed it, womdering if she should give it to him, but decided to wait. Instead she asked him a few questions.
"So M. Dolan,.what is it you do? And what brought you to get a suit today? No offense inteneded, but you don't seem like...well...a suit."
She didn't mean any offense, but he struck her as more laid back.
Edited by
Emily Shale, Jan 14 2015, 01:00 AM.
As they journeyed, Enzo kept his gloves buried deep in his pockets. Despite years beyond his homeland, the harsh shrill of Moscow's winter was painful to accept. His collar was up-turned. His scarf was wrapped tight. The National was close. He did recall seeing it as he passed from the metro station toward the GUM.
The sidewalks and streets were freshly swept of snow, yet peripherally he maintained an awareness of hidden slick-spots. His eyes lingered upon other faces they passed, suspicious of everyone. Anyone could be a monster. Although certainly Emily was nothing of the sort.
She asked his profession. His mind immediately flashed through the information M. White provided. He had not the time to thoroughly study its contents, but what he had skimmed was useful. "I'm a personal banker, Mademoiselle. We are not the sort to find spending time in clubs to be entertaining. I have business there, you see."
How easily the lies came. He swallowed the subsequent shame. "I have suits, but nothing appropriate for this meeting. Moscow is a very different world than where I come from."
There was a softness in his voice not unlike the mounds of snow lining the trees. He did miss his home, of that there was no deception. "Strange how our paths take us so far from where we originally began."
He did not elaborate.
He cautiously gazed upon her. At her tallest she barely came to his shoulder. "And you mademoiselle, how are you taking to your new position as CEO?"
He smiled reassuringly. "I googled you."
He explained lest she imagine him to be some strange sort of stalker.
Emily smiled at being googled. It was just kind of something you never expected someone to say. She wasn't surprised, but the gesture seemed nice to her.
"It started off rough, but I think I'm beginning to fit into the chair pretty well now."
She frowned. The method of her acquisition of the company and her title was sad, and although mostly she was fine, she still missed her parents and part of her was still grieving. If Enzo had googled her, he probably knew about her mom and dad.
"It was very overwhelming at first. Funeral preparations and taking everything over. I needed to be strong for my sisters too. It was two weeks before I got to grieve for my parents - I mean really grieve."
Emily sighed and stifled a sniffle.
"I'm sorry. Sometimes I just start to talk and can't stop. It's good to let it out though. I miss my parents...a lot."
Emily was surprised she hadn't started crying. Maybe the healing was beginning to set in now. She was surprised she had told this to Enzo too, but maybe it's because he reminded her of her dad.
Emily's smiled returned.
"You're right about paths. I didn't expect to be on this one, but I'll do well I'm sure."
They were getting close to the National.
"Thank you...for listening."
Emily was glad he had walked with her. She would give him the envelope after saying goodbye.
Edited by
Emily Shale, Jan 26 2015, 03:14 PM.
Losing both parents simultanouesly would be difficult for a young girl. Emily must have an inner strength not apparent at the moment to be selected as leader of her family's company after their demise. She seemed far too youthful for such a lofty task, vibrant, but naive of the ways of the world. But who was Enzo to comment on the inner-workings of large corporations?
No audible welcome followed her expression of gratitude. He let the quiet fall between them like snowflakes. He found a purpose to get out of bed every day. The world continued to turn despite its devastation to one man. There was nothing else to say.
The National approached, looming like an ancient palace jutting into the corner of the street. He studied the mannerisms of the fur-garbed doorman who seemed to recognize Emily as she approached. He glanced upon, and quickly dismissed, Enzo in turn. "Here we are and you are safe and sound. Enjoy the rest of your night, mademoiselle. It was a pleasure to have met you."
He waited a moment in case she had some parting words.
Emily gave him a smile as he bid her farewell. "Thank you, Enzo. I was glad to have met you too."
Emily passed Enzo the envelope which contained her letter. It was something she wrote while at Imperial as well as her business card. "My contact information is inside. I hope that your meeting goes well. Good night M. Dolan."
Emily offered her hand for shaking, not preparing this time. She had decided that it would be an appropriate way for her to deal with her past, the weight of the meeting she would have to have with her board upon returning to Chicago as well as her experiences with Ayden and everything in Moscow had taught her much. The most important of which was it was time to grow up.
She nodded to Enzo and in the direction that Mr. White was following thanked him once more before entering her hotel, and knew she would end up ending her vacation early. The decision had to be made.
Enzo's brow was pinched thoughtfully low when he accepted the envelope from Emily. The paper felt alien in his hands, but he folded it and hid it in a pocket promptly. The doorman was witness to the exchange, and Enzo did not dismiss his lingering eye. Emily would be a wealthy, valuable client to them. Her friendly demeanor likely dolled out generous tips when someone so much as held the door open for her. Any threat to that bankroll would be harshly dealt with. Although Enzo doubted it would come to such a confrontation, he was much aware of his own impropriety. He was ill at ease surrounded, perched on the stoop of a gilded kingdom as he was: like the peasant-boy escorting the princess home to her castle but fully banned from entering her world itself. If he wore his newly purchased suit, he greatly assumed circumstances would be entirely different. How the world depended so heavily on first impressions.
He was glad to see Emily away, feeling much more comfortable sharing White's company than her's. "Am I the naive one, or was that odd to you too?"
He asked as they left the shadow of her opulent hotel. He retrieved the crumpled envelope and turned it over in his hands. The urge to deposit it into a trash receptacle rose enough that he altered his path to swing closer to one as it approached. It would be best for her sake to cever all ties. But at the last minute, though, he sighed and stuffed it back in his pocket.
"Should we meet at the club itself or arrive together?"
The ogling cameras at the door would likely assume them to be a couple if they came together, which actually might not be a bad idea, if it kept young women like Emily from distracting him from his search all night. However, Enzo was not entirely comfortable with the implication, not because White was male, but because he preferred to not want to field inquiries into his relationships at all. His heart and soul would always belong only to Mireille. He devoted the remainder of his life to the Atharim to avoid reopening such wounds.
Hood followed the two from the shop to Emily's hotel, always keeping a dozen or so strides back from the pair. Near enough to intervene if needed, but otherwise giving the pair some semblance of privacy. Of course, the entire point of encouraging Enzo to walk the rich American woman to her hotel was so the the Atharim man could get used to the idea of rubbing elbows with important people.
They were an odd pair to say the least. Or perhaps she was an odd woman. The stress of taking on a large corporation while one's parents bodies were still warm probably had that affect on a person though. Normal people, anyway. Whatever the case, the woman was far too open about her emotions and thoughts with random strangers. It probably wouldn't bode well for her in future business ventures. He'd met less ruthless monsters in his line of work then he'd witnesses in the business world.
The two parted ways, with Enzo discreetly tucking away the envelope Emily had handed him, but White chose to ignore the gesture. Whatever it was in that envelope, it probably didn't involve him. And if it did? Well honestly, he didn't have many fucks to give. Unless it was work related, of course.
White and Enzo were left standing outside her hotel, and White stared at Enzo for a long moment before finally nodding in agreement. "Very odd. Not sure that one should be in DI."
She was just too...nice. Good. Not one to be tossed into the predatory life style of the CCD's elite.
"Together. I know most of the security, so there'll be no issues getting in. Strict rules there. No weapons."
Unsurprisingly, White knew more about the security detail then was entirely necessary. There were always a few paparazzi foolish enough to bother taking his picture, but a quick search turned up he was just a body guard, and all interest was quickly lost. Having Enzo walk Emily to her hotel would lend credence to the lie that the French man was being scouted for Pervaya. There would be few, if any, questions or unwanted conclusions.
He turned to wave down a taxi, and as it pulled up he glanced at Enzo with a nod, "You did well. Go over the notes. Memorize faces. Check the business section of the day's news before heading to the club. You can call me John, but at the club, it's Mr White."