Another update for you. Enjoy the end of the chapter ... I think?
I had a burst of energy with this and this is the result. A lot going on ... And then again not much at all.
When Clary wakes up at 5am on Monday morning she knows she should roll over and go back to sleep but the adrenaline coursing through her body doesn't allow her. She gets up and sighs. She has her outfit hanging on the back of her door which Izzy helped her pick the night before. All she needs to do is shower, do her hair and makeup, eat breakfast then leave.
The nervous butterflies in her stomach aren't helping and before she knows it she is running to the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach.
"Shit." She groans as she sits on the cold tiled floor once she is done her back against the wall
She stands up shakily and brushes her teeth and rinses out her mouth. Once the lightheaded feeling has passed she takes a nice long hot shower to ease the tension in her body. She stays in the shower longer than necessary and uses the time to organise her thoughts and eventually clear her head.
She blow dries her hair into sleek curls and pins it up in an elaborate do to waste time. Soon her makeup is done too and she sits in her underwear staring at the outfit she is about to change into. She has kept her makeup light focusing on her eyes lining them to perfection with some lip gloss on her lips. She knows she has impressed them with her writing but now she wants to impress them in person too. She wonders if the outfit is too much. In the London office the outfits varied from casual yet expensive to full on fashion house ensembles. She had only visited a dozen times but it had still not been any less daunting because there she was an outsider getting ready to move to the New York office.
Her outfit is a simple black shift dress that is beautifully cut. It absolutely oozes sophistication and sex appeal. The dress is skin tight and the neckline has a notch in it to show off her cleavage. With it she is pairing a simple pair of nude heels and carrying a navy blue leather satchel which contains her book of ideas and print outs of the first drafts of her next few posts. She has already emailed them across but feels like she needs to reread them once over before meeting her editor. Isabelle had given her a beautiful tan trench coat to complete the look. She is sure the price tag on it is obscene but Izzy had told her she would look like she meant business so she had accepted it as a loan.
She can't contemplate breakfast so just has a cup of black coffee before grabbing her things and taking a taxi to the 'Angel' Head Quarters. She stops outside a small coffee shop and goes in to grab a muffin to eat before she goes in. She is 30 minutes early but from what she remember her editor likes to get in early and organise her day. The office is situated in a huge skyscraper which houses the magazine, investment banks and more things than she could imagine.
She is given a visitors pass at reception and directed to the 23rd floor. She reaches the reception desk and is greeted by a pretty blonde who is immaculately dressed. She is glad that she let Izzy pick her outfit and breathes a sigh of relief when she seats her and lets her know that she will be seen shortly.
Ten minutes later another immaculately dressed blonde with icy hair makes her way towards her. Clary recognises her immediately as Catarina Loss editor of lifestyle at 'Angel' magazine. She has seen pictures of her before but she is absolutely stunning with her long lithe model-esque body. She stands up quickly and they shake hands.
"Clarissa, what a pleasure to finally meet you," Camille says studying her, her American accent tinged with a European flair, "you look stunning."
"Catarina, it's a pleasure, I have been so excited to meet you, and I've really enjoyed your feedback on my articles." Clary says smiling at her.
"Oh my sweet girl," Camille says, "When I received your first post when you were still in London I was in enraptured by it. Being a well-seasoned Londoner and New Yorker myself I could really believe in what you wrote. It was beautiful. That bittersweet feeling."
"Thank you." Clary says in awe. She can't believe how genuine Catarina sounds and that she actually loves her work.
"Let's go into my office… I have a small request for your next piece I hope you don't mind." Catarina says as she leads her through the double doors and down the long winding corridor to her office.
When they are finally seated. She has her assistant bring them coffee and pastries for breakfast. Clary politely picks at one and savour the taste of the expensive black coffee.
"What did you think of my drafts for the next two articles," Clary asks.
"Very good, we have had such a good response to your blog posts, people really seem to have warmed to you. I think though that we should delay your next two posts in favour of a more general one. Allow you to get back into the swing of things." Camille says sweetly.
"More .. general?" Clary asks quietly. Maybe her articles weren't as well received as she thought. A knot develops in her stomach.
"Oh my darling, don't be offended, your articles were great, I mean just a seasoned New Yorkers top tourist attractions in New York and London, we will post them both on the London and New York site as two weekly posts so that will cover your next two weeks. There has been a demand for it. Have you been reading the comments?" Catarina says smiling at her.
"No I haven't actually, I thought it might distract me." Clary says honestly her body relaxing.
"You're probably right but I have a feeling your next post will definitely stir up a drama, who is he?" Catarina says giggling, "It sounded so good I suspected it might be fantasy."
"I'd rather not say, it's nothing serious but I know you wanted me to be real with my posts so I'm just trying to be authentic, it's what happened … so I wrote it." Clary says feeling her face heat up. Jace. She can't believe it but she wrote about Jace. She didn't tell the story in much detail but the emotions behind it she couldn't help it as they poured out of her onto the page. She hadn't told anyone about it not even Izzy so it had provided the perfect outlet for her feelings. Feelings that she really needed to make sense of.
"I won't pry don't worry, if you keep turning out work like that, I won't ask any questions at all … or I'll try not to." Catarina says winking at her, "And then your ex-boyfriend?"
"You couldn't make this stuff up." Clary says laughing.
"I think your blog will definitely be popular, if you keep this up I'm sure it will be going for a long time to come." Camille says seriously.
"I can't promise anything in terms of content but it's just my life." Clary says shrugging.
"And what an interesting life you lead, so I read in your profile … you write songs?" Camille asks genuinely interested.
"Yes... I worked with a friend back in London who was in a band we wrote a lot of songs together and some music too and a mutual friend he's a budding producer we send our inputs to him. He has contacts in the music industry so hopefully something will happen one day. I mean that would be the dream to have my songs out there but at the moment it's just a pipe dream." Clary says smiling.
"I can put you in contact with someone here too," Catarina says nodding, "are you still writing?"
"All the time, something as emotional as moving home, it definitely bodes well for writing in general." Clary says sighing, "I appreciate it but Magnus I trust him with my work, I couldn't really allow anyone else…"
"Magnus Bane?" Catarina exclaims, "tell me it's not Magnus Bane?"
"Yes, how did you know?" Clary asks confused.
"I know his family we go way back… wonderful … I can put him in contact with my guy here too if he doesn't know them already." Catarina says clapping her hands together as if it's a done deal.
"Sure …" Clary says softly.
"Okay well … I think we have a full week ahead of us Clarissa, I have arranged inductions and introductory meetings with everyone you need to meet … by the end of the week you will be immersed in the 'Angel' magazine culture." Catarina explains launching into formalities.
"You can call me Clary, everyone does." Clary says finally having the nerve to correct her.
"Ah of course, Clary," Catarina says smiling, "and my darling you may dress as you please, as stunning as you look today I would save it for special occasions… and I would definitely try this ensemble on this … man you're seeing." She says winking.
Clary flushes red.
"I hope we get to hear about him again sometime soon." Catarina says laughing at Clary's face, "oh dear you're blushing, how bold you are when you write … yet so shy in person. I do love it."
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Clary works on her articles that week while getting to know everyone at the Angel HQ. The week goes by so fast she almost feels like she has been there for months. She feels completely immersed and at home with them. It doesn't make her any less stressed. The pace is fast and demanding and she can see where Catarina gets her reputation from. It's not that she isn't encouraging but she expects perfection in everything. Right now Clary is stepping up to the challenge and it is exhilarating. She wonders how long it will last. Her article about sightseeing in London being posted on Saturday week and then the following week by an article on New York.
The third week they finally get to her article about her night with Jace. It is fully edited and ready to go and the more she reads it the more she wonders what will happen with them next. She hasn't seen him since she's started working, there have been a lot of late nights networking, going to dinner and drinking with her new colleagues so she's barely even seen Jon or Izzy let alone him. She is looking forward to Saturday when she can finally relax and spend time with Izzy and Jon. When her thoughts shift to Jace she wants to bang her head against a brick wall.
Maybe she will see Jace maybe she won't. It shouldn't matter to her. She sighs and tells herself not to think about it. She shouldn't be thinking about him like that at all. They are nothing to each other. It's so casual she knows she shouldn't let it affect her but since putting their night into written words she realises with much chagrin that she isn't as indifferent about it as she wants to be.
She has known Jace her whole life as Jon's best friend and Izzy's brother so it's difficult to get him out of her head. There are memories there new and old. There is something to remind her of him at every turn. Of course he doesn't think about her at all and with his history with women she knows she is just another one on his long list. And despite this she can't stop thinking about it that first night and every interaction since. It would have been much easier if he was a stranger. It's not the first time she's had a relationship like this and she knows something is different about this.
One thing is for sure. She is so screwed.
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Friday night.
Clary walks into her apartment complex. She is slightly unsteady on her feet on account of all the alcohol in her system. She giggles when she thinks of her night with all her new colleagues. They had way too much to drink and had danced the night away. It is the most relaxed she has felt in weeks. The most she has felt like she actually belongs.
Clary POV
When the door to lift pings open he is standing there. Jace. I suck in a breath. A look of mild shock passes his face and is gone as quickly as I see it as he stops at the doors of the lift hesitating. He is all in black as usual and looking divine. He looks me up and down without any apology, he's definitely not trying to hide it. It's probably because I look like a mess from the night's activities. My coat is draped over my arm, I took it off because I thought I was going to die from overheating. My hair is a mess half of it falling out of the elaborate up do I wove it into the morning. All the vigorous activity of the night has made sure I am looking completely unpolished and I feel conscious of this. Although I am wearing an incredible black dress that is off the shoulder and dips in the centre of the neckline giving a good view of my breasts and it momentarily makes me forget this. I had plenty of attention from guys at the bar all night but I didn't feel a thing and now I know why with him standing in front of me. They are nothing compared to him. I can feel my body reacting to his. Chemically. Physically. In every way. I can feel the electricity in the air. My pulse is suddenly racing and I feel like I won't survive unless his hands are on me.
"I forgot my keys." I say breathily before I can stop myself.
He nods and settles back into the lift without a word. I see him pressing the button for the 4th floor. I know he has a spare set in his apartment, or hopefully with him. I walk into the lift and stumble forward. He catches me easily and I'm pulled against his chest. I look up and he's smirking down at me.
My heart speeds up again and he makes no move to let me go as the lift lurches to life and takes us upwards.
When the doors ping open he straightens me up and wraps an arm around my shoulder guiding me out of the door carefully. I think he can see how wobbly I am on my feet. A heady combination of being drunk and his proximity. He opens the door and guides me in carefully. I just noticed he's taken my coat and bag into his arms too.
"Jon ... I hope I didn't wake him." I whisper when we reach my bedroom. He puts my bag and coat down for me.
"He's at Camille's." Jace says and I turn to face him glad that he has finally spoken.
"Oh …" I say softly as the ideas this information has given me make my face heat up.
He stands in front of me and makes no move to leave. I look up at him and without realising it I've pressed myself against him. I don't know what I think I'm doing but it doesn't matter. At least I can blame it on the alcohol if I need to. He finally looks down and our eyes meet and that's it. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his face down and our lips crash together. He doesn't resist and makes no move to stop me. And I'm so glad. I'm so relieved that I sigh into his mouth and sag against him.
He pulls me flush against him and his hands go into to my hair pulling out the clip holding the last bit of my hair up and it tumbles down my back. He runs his hands through it and soon his hands slide down my back and settle on my ass. He squeezes down and I whimper into his mouth. He pauses for a moment but doesn't pull his lips away and I can feel his lips curve into a smile against mine. I shudder against him as he grips my hips slowing us down but not pulling his mouth from mine completely.
"You're very drunk." He murmurs against my lips.
I pull away and study his face. He's smiling at me affectionately and it confuses me. His hands come up and he runs them down the length of my arms soothingly. I reach up to pull him down and he takes a step back out of my reach.
I think he sees the hurt register on my face.
"Clary..." He groans his eyes are so dark the look in them makes my stomach clench, "you're drunk."
"And?" I ask him annoyed.
"You have a tendency not to remember things when you're drunk." He says his eyes blazing with an equally annoyed look.
"What does that mean?" I ask him suspicious colouring my tone.
"Nothing ..." He says his voice softening and he runs a hand absently through his hair, "Let's get you ready for bed, sweetheart."
I look up at him confused as he steps towards me again and I feel his hands on the back of my dress, sliding the zip down and pulling over my head carefully. He pushes me down onto the bed gently and I fall back onto it. He chuckles.
He walks over to my cupboard and rummages around. I wonder what he's doing until he pulls out a pair of pyjamas.
He settles down in front of me and unbuckles my heels and pulls them off my feet. I moan at how good it feels to have them off. I watch him with interest. He slips my shorts over my legs and pulls them up and then pulls me upright and pulls them over my ass. He settles me back down on the bed. He's towering over me.
He's looking down at me now and I look down to see his gaze settle on my chest. The black strapless bra I'm wearing tonight gives him an excellent view of my cleavage. I unhook it and his eyes jerk up to meet my own his eyes widening in shock. I have definitely surprised him and it makes me feel so good. I smirk at him feeling proud of myself.
As I throw it down at my feet his eyes flicker down momentarily before locking on my eyes again. His eyes at blazing and soon the look turns to thinly veiled displeasure and he groans. He pulls the camisole over my head more roughly than necessary and I pull my arms through.
I look up at him and I can feel my chin jut out and a petulant look take over my face. I can't help it. The look quickly dissipates and he looks highly amused. I take this as my cue to stand up and take his hands. I pull him down to kiss me again and he doesn't hold back this time allowing me to pull him down onto the bed against me kissing me until I am breathless.
He pulls away but our bodies still stay locked together. I am flat on my back and he is hovering over me weightlessly. His hands slip under my top and slide from my hips up the sides of my stomach until he is just under my breasts. His fingers graze the underside and I moan pulling him on top of me and pressing myself against him.
"Jace ..." I moan.
His thumbs run over my pebbled nipples causing sparks to course through my body and the heat pool between my legs.
"God Clarissa, I'm going straight to hell." He groans as he gently cups my breasts touching me so gently and teasingly that I moan loudly. His experienced touches feel so good so I press myself against him jerking my hips against his. I can't help myself. His thumbs graze over my nipples again and I gasp.
"Don't stop ..." I whimper my eyes shut tightly as he flicks him thumbs back and forth over the same spot causing coils of desire to tighten in my lower abdomen.
"I have to ..." He groans, "You're way too drunk and if you forget again I won't be pleased." But he doesn't stop yet and this pleases me.
"Again?" I ask. My eyes are closed and I tip my head back as he sucks at the sensitive skin of my neck.
"You don't remember." He groans against my neck. It isn't a question it's a stated fact. He's still touching my chest and my body on fire from his gentle touch.
"Remember … what?" I ask barely able to get the words out as I gasp and moan at his ministrations.
"Your sixteenth birthday." He says simply and his hands pause. He sags against me and I grab his face pulling it down to my own.
"No that was so long ago... What happened?" I whisper kissing him gently between sentences.
"You were so drunk." He whispers back as if he is letting me in on a great secret, "You kissed me ... and we were going to ... But I couldn't not with you like that... And the next day you didn't remember a thing. It killed me." He manages to say between kisses.
"I thought I dreamt it." I whisper against him as I sink back against the bed holding him against me. "I ... It was a blur."
"Do you dream about me often?" He asks rolling off me and onto his side. I turn towards him but we keep a small distance between our bodies.
"Jace ... I remember I dreamt about it for two weeks ... It was driving me crazy … I thought I was going insane …" I say trying to remember what it felt like then, it was so long ago everything that happened felt like a dream, "And then ... I was so ... so …."
"So… what?" He asks intrigued.
"I thought it was a dream ... You didn't look like you remembered it ..." I whisper as it all comes back to me, "I thought I must have dreamed it."
"I wasn't ..." He says sighing, "It was self-preservation."
"And then … I slept with Jem Carstairs ..." I say quietly.
"I remember." He says shifting onto his back his voice empty.
"Jon almost killed him when he found out." I say sighing, "He beat him black and blue… He ended up in hospital."
"We both did ... I think he still walks with a limp." Jace says chuckling darkly.
I shift myself closer to him and pull him to face me. He puts his hands on my hips and strokes them gently.
"And that's why ..." he says quietly and when I look into his eyes there's so much there I can't begin to comprehend.
"What?" I whisper.
"I won't touch you unless you're sober." He says removing his hands from me and pushing me away from him.
"Hmmph." I groan as I watch him sit up.
He pulls me to an upright position. I look down at my hands trying to hide the flush of embarrassment the sting of rejection.
"Go to sleep," He says warily holding my chin between his forefinger and thumb forcing me to look up at him. His eyes are soft and it surprises me, "If the past is anything to go by I bet you won't remember a thing tomorrow." He says shaking his head and sighing.
"And what if I do?" I ask pointedly.
"You know where to find me then." He says smirking as he stands up.
I lie back in defeat groaning and he walks out of the room to return with a glass of water and some painkillers.
"For tomorrow." He says placing them on my bedside table.
"Where are you going?" I whisper sleepily curling up on my side.
"Away." He says simply as he places me under the covers.
"Why can't you stay with me?" I whisper my voice full of hurt.
"Clary ... That wouldn't end well." He says sighing, "As much as I would ... Just no. Stop making things so difficult." His golden eyes look conflicted.
"We could just sleep." I say turning to him and biting my lower lip.
"Goodnight Clarissa." He says firmly turning his back on me and I feel myself deflate even further and turn to look at the ceiling blinking back the tears stinging my eyes.
And then I hear the door click shut behind him and he is gone.
I settle back against my pillows and I'm asleep before I know it.
This interaction was fun to write. I know I know they're still not quite there yet. But I hope you enjoyed this little scene anyway.
I feel like the honesty in the chapter was good and you got a little bit more background.
The nights with these two are always good. What do you think Saturday morning will bring?
Probably not what you expect ...
Question. Where are you all from? I ask this periodically because it really does interest me. Let me know in the little box.
