-)(-Meeting-)(-
"...I have to reject this, Ephraim. It...if it were to go in another hotel, it would be lovely, but—".
Her brother laughed, shook his head quickly, and slid the design back over to his side of the table. "No, it's okay. I think it sucks, too—but if I tell Tana that, she'd kill me. Or, rather, her brother'd kill me....But! I'll just tell her that you said we don't have a room that can fit that theme in—at the present, of course, so she won't get discouraged!—and this problem will be behind us," Ephraim beamed. Sighing, Eirika tucked a strand of teal hair behind her ear while she looked pointedly at her twin.
"That's all fine and well, but what happens when she gives us a plan with more winged horses in a few months? You have to be gentle, but totally honest...this isn't some sort of business sugar-coating. Tell Tana that Castle Renais does not focus on fantasy castles, but rather real ones, and encourage her to make another design based on actual palace grandeur," She said, gesturing to the paper from over her coffee. "She is an excellent coordinator. I have the utmost faith that she will come up with something stunning for the new honeymoon suite...but, ah," Eirika glanced at the title of the page, "'Winged Queen' just isn't what we need".
The man smiled. "See, this is why you work in H.R., sis. You tell somebody that at a stock meeting, they'll bite your Goddamn head off!".
"Language," Eirika warned him. "Now...your girlfriend's project aside; you said that you had overstepped your role in running the hotel?". She asked evenly, pulling the skin off of an orange slice with a eye trained on her brother. The twenty-six year-old man shifted nervously in his seat.
"Yeah. I...I, uh, sort of hired someone," Ephraim told the woman across from him. "It's sort of your place, I know, but, well....". She peered curiously at him for a moment.
"You just hired somebody?" Eirika felt a strange surge of relief at the admission. "That's not a problem, I trust your judgment...why do you think you need to clear this through me?".
He hesitated for a moment, then locked eyes with his sister. "Eirika," He said solemnly. "I hired somebody to replace Leon as head of security for the hotel. You've let the regular security staff handle the obligations that the head of their department needs to for the last four months. As a business owner, I have obligations of my own: to make sure that jobs are being done without heavy costs coming to my endeavor. The men are all requesting overtime salaries, and that costs more in the long run than hiring a chief of staff does. I understand that you're upset about having to fire Leon—everyone here was hurting when he left—but Castle Renais needs someone in his position, and—".
"I'm not upset about firing him, Ephriam! I'm upset that he went to jail! I'm upset that he committed suicide three weeks after his incarceration—" Eirika snapped, choking past her last few words and rising angrily from her seat. "But...you hired a guy, fine. Okay. When does he start?"
"Eirika—". His sister shook her head, inhaled through her nose to calm down, and repeated her question with a concealed trace of venom.
"When does he start, Ephraim?".
"Today. He'll be there in an hour....But, Eirika, I—".
"No, forget it. Just...just, never mind. I have to go if I'm going to greet mister....".
"Mr Marshall".
"Mr. Marshall...okay. ...I'll see you later tonight?".
"...Sure. Take care," Ephraim sighed, watching his sister walk out the door to his kitchen with a dour expression marring his face. Shit. I didn't think she'd take it well. He braced his forehead against the palm of his hand and didn't stand from his place until he heard her car accelerate out of his driveway. Making a mental note to finish his coffee later, the man walked over to the island of the kitchen and hit speed-dial two on his still charging cell phone. After the Frelian's automated system picked up, he punched in the extension for the manager's office, and waited for the call to transfer.
It rang three times before a cheery voice answered. "Ephraim! Hello! How're you, sweetie?"
Ephraim couldn't hold back a small smile. "Morning, Tana. Uh, is your brother around?".
"Ephraim," Her voice turned sympathetic. The young woman seemed to sense that he was after brotherly advice; but made no move to get her brother as far as he could tell. Tana insisted on trying to talk to him herself instead. "You told her already?".
"The guy starts today, what else was I going to do? Let her freak out on him?".
"Well, you could have—hey! Innes! I'm not—". Tana's voice grew distant before a deeper, slightly gravely one spoke.
"...You screwed up," Was the simple statement Innes made. Ephraim groaned into the receiver, and he could see the older man shaking his head at his stupidity before he continued to speak. "But...you screwed up in the best way possible. Eirika would have held her stress and anger in until she could speak to you privately...and that would have been worse for the both of you, not to mention for your new security head".
He took in the other's wisdom before he realized something was odd. "Innes, how do you know what I did...?".
"You mentioned hiring a man to replace Leon, and his start date. Tana told me that you were eating with your sister this morning. Two and two," He sighed. "Idiot. You should have spoken to her before hiring him: then, this could all have been avoided".
Ephraim felt a familiar surge of irritation. "You just can't leave it at a semi-compliment, can you?!".
"Well, maybe if you'd think—!" Tana's pleas for them to stop fighting went unheard.
-)(-
"This guy's good," The blonde security guard whispered to his partner. "Has barely fidgeted since he sat down!". Kyle turned his eyes away from the auburn-haired man on the security monitor (who, like his friend said, had only readjusted his tie once, and that was when he first got to the reception office of Castle Renais) to glare at Forde.
The man looked back at him quizzically, and Kyle rolled his eyes. "He is our boss, Forde. Show some respect".
"He's not our boss if Eirika—oh, will you stop it? Fine—not our boss if Ms. Svarog fires him as soon as she gets here...." Forde said, clapping his hands as he saw the familiar black car pull into valet parking. "Which is now!". Kyle continued to stare at his fellow guard, and Forde mimicked his earlier gesture. "Oh, you know she's still in full mourning over Leon. I mean, we miss the guy, but she feels guilty, and that's fifty times worse". At the green mane's nod, he went on. "And her brother hired him in the first place...so, there should be fireworks! Misplaced resentment, the loss of a livelihood, the stuff of soap operas! This'll be great—say, think we should get popcorn?".
"Forde!" He hissed, "That is awful of you to—". Kyle turned his head at the beeping next to him, and flicked the button that turned on his ear-piece. "Squad Four...yes, a Seven-Oh-Nine? Got it," He stood from his surveillance chair, motioning to Forde. "There's a drunk guy at the pub, Maurice thinks he might be close to getting rough. C'mon".
Forde rose as well, but with no small amount of whining. "Aw, it was about to get good! Hey, little bro, tell me how it went, okay?" Franz raised his hand in response, and with that the pair exited the guard station. "...Really, who drinks that much at nine in the morning?! Who?!". Kyle had no answer.
-)(-
Oblivious to the actions of her employees, Eirika walked into the lobby of her hotel a little after nine. After greeting a few clerks and bellhops, she quickly got onto the staff elevator and waited to reach the second-highest floor of the building, her tapping foot the only indication of her inner conflict. I...don't know if this is a good idea. Brother's right, I know, but I don't know if I can handle somebody in Leon's place so soon. Maybe I'll play it by ear? No, that's not fair to Mr. Marshall....Ephraim picked him, he has to be good. I just need to learn to let him do his job without my interfering.
...That's what caused problems last time, after all. The woman sighed, stepping onto the seventy-third floor. I just need to treat him like everybody else here. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the dark wooden door to the reception office open and walked in with a breezy smile, heading to the desk before even daring to look at the man. "I'm sorry for being late, there was construction on the westbound turnpike—down to one lane; have you been waiting long?". Eirika asked the man in a light tone, setting her briefcase onto the marble desktop. At the brief pause before he answered her, the woman turned to face him.
"No, I've only been here since twenty 'till," He responded; but Eirkia wasn't listening. He's...handsome. Mr. Marshall wasn't the statuesque, tragic sort of man-candy Lyon was thinking the name hurt, even!, but he was definitely sculpted. Any man who had such thighs under a suit had to be! His face was attractive, too—all sharp, almost rugged, planes and clean-shaven, with dark eyes and.... Snapping out of her aesthetically-linked stupor, the heiress realized she hadn't really paid attention and chose to save face with a cover-all reply.
"Sorry," She said again, slightly widening her smile while she sheepishly looked away. Mr. Marshall offered a gentle smile of his own—that's okay, it seemed to say, I didn't really mind it—and Eirika sat in the large leather chair behind the desk, opening her laptop before she looked up to the man again. "Oh, please, come over here! And—I'm so sorry, I seem to out of sorts today!—I haven't introduced myself to you...." She stood back up, moved in front of the desk with her hand outstretched. "Eirika Svarog, co-owner of Castle Renais. And you're Mr. Marshall?".
A larger hand took hers, shook with a firm grip. "Yes, ma'am—Seth," He amended. Eirika decided she liked his voice; it was calm and reassuring yet authoritative. Perfect for his possibly soon-to-be job. "And, Ms. Svarog, I am of the understanding that you are actually the one who hires personnel here...?".
She sat as he did, glanced up from over her computer screen. "Eirika is fine. And yes, I am...well, Ephraim has the authority to do so, too; he just...doesn't," She explained with a shrug. "Prefers finances and the like. But he did hire you...so, why is it an issue, Seth?".
"...Your brother, ma'am, seemed to be somewhat hurried in his hiring me for the position of Chief of Security here. Almost like he didn't want to give you time to review it...." He didn't, Eirika thought, Perceptive of you. "But to make this clear: I would like to have your okay on this job before I begin work. If you are to be one of my superiors, I do not want to be a nuisance to you, Ms. Svarog".
That touched her, in some strange way. "...Well, I agree with Ephraim's judgment. But...I do wish to go over your credentials with you," She said. The man nodded, and she clicked at her screen until she opened his resume. "Okay, I have your file up now. Seth Alexander Marshall, thirty-one. Degree in Criminal Justice with a minor in Technological Applications...oh, you served on the NYPD?".
"Yes," Seth confirmed. "I moved from Virginia to New York as soon as I graduated and served on the force for three years, before moving back to Virginia where I worked as Sectional Manager of Security for Senator Akins. I headed his surveillance for five years before coming to Las Vegas this January. I've spent the last ten months as Chief of Security at Carcino Casino; and resigned there when I was offered this job three weeks ago". Eirika scanned the information over on her computer before nodding.
"I see. It seems you have impressive service records in each of your positions....Tell me, Seth. Why do you want to work in Castle Renais?".
He ran his hand through deep red bangs before replying. "When I was with the NYPD, and even when I was with Senator Akins, I felt...like I was doing my best, but I wasn't in total control of my position. After the Senator let me go due to cutbacks, I came here and found that when I headed security at a casino; I could monitor everything and...serve more. As a cop, you see too much left unpunished because there's no evidence; as a bodyguard, you only protect one person. But with this work, I can make sure hundreds of people's lives are a little smoother because somebody's not stealing their money or lying or what have you. It's not as noble as serving with a badge and gun, but at least I get some sense of fulfilled duty".
Eirika was surprised to notice that she felt that same surge of pleasure from before at his answer. "Well," She laughed, "That's a more noble reason than saying it's for the money!" He chuckled softly with her, and the teal-haired woman folded her red-sleeved arms on the desk while locking eyes with him. "Look, Seth. Ephraim trusts you, and I see no fault in your prior work experience. So...I'm giving you the go-ahead; just be aware that you're taking on a very big responsibility here. Service to the customers of Castle Renais is our top priority," She reminded him. "So no matter what my brother told you, you're to watch our card tables before you try to protect me".
Seth's smile grew a bit. "You know your brother well, Ms. Svarog. He told me that I had to 'boss the boys in security around', but mainly see to your personal safety. Perhaps we could try for a balance, to begin with?".
"...Fine," She agreed. "But only to begin with. Now...I'll show you to the observation room and get your troops lined up, so to speak...and I've told you. You can call me Eirika," She smiled, standing and moving to the door of the office. Seth followed her out, a deep grey shadow to her red and white blaze; and she turned her head around so she could see his face while speaking to him. "Nervous?".
He slowly raised an eyebrow, stepped forward to push the elevator button for her. "About meeting the other security officers here? Not really," Seth admitted. "...I'm sorry, Ms. Eirika. Did that come across as arrogant?".
"No, not at all. You were a New York cop...I bet you've dealt with much worse than our staff," Eirika said. "The most you'll have to look out for is Forde sleeping—he'll nap on and off, it's more endearing than anything...." Seth Marshall had paled at her comment, but thankfully, she failed to notice. She did notice, however, how easy it was to chat with the tall man; much easier than with...Lyon, or even with Ephraim, for some reason! By the time they reached the main basement surveillance area, she had revealed that her own degree was in Communications and that she hated the unbending 'no pets' rule that the hotels in the M-block had because she loved dogs and cats. In turn, she had learned that he had a sister who majored in the same field and worked in television, and that Seth had owned a dog in New York—trained by the NYPD, of course—but had to give her up when he left six years ago.
...Is this letting him do his job without my being involved?!
Swiping her access card through the slot, the door to Surveillance whirred open, and Eirika and Seth stepped into the dark room. "Can I have your attention, please?" The entirety of the room perked up at her voice, turned to the door with open curiosity. "This is Seth Marshall, and starting today, he's your new boss".
-)(-Meeting-)(-
The quarter flashed in the light of the waiting room, rolled neatly across his knuckles to his thumb. With a slight twitch of the appendage, the coin sailed underneath his hand only to pop out between his fourth finger and pinky, where it was then threaded through each finger before the metal disc was sent rolling in the opposite direction; to be tucked under his smallest finger and grabbed with the pad of his thumb. It glinted sharp silver as it spun in the air a foot above his right hand, and was caught with his left before the process began again. The cycle took all of ten seconds for his practiced hands, and Joshua Cutler was about to complete his twentieth rotation when he felt a pair of eyes on him.
To his credit, he didn't look over. Tossing the coin up once more, he caught it and slid it back into the pocket of his jeans. Letting out a impatient-sounding sigh, the man stretched his arms slightly, let his gaze idly trace the room, and then Joshua leaned over and plucked a Reader's Digest from two years ago from it's rack.
What was is Carlyle always said..."Never become important to a crazy person"? Guess I'd better not draw her attention. He frowned at that thought. No, she's not crazy...probably. Just...troubled. Risking a peek upwards, he found himself looking at the meek face of a indigo-haired girl—she was maybe fifteen—who sat next to a solemn man with a social worker's badge pinned to his suit. At the sight of the large bruise on her temple and the burn marks on her hands, Joshua shot his eyes back down to the periodical.
Goddamn abusive mother—His curses were cut short as the receptionist drew back the pane of glass and called his name. He stood from his chair and quickly moved to the green door that separated the waiting room from the hall of psychologist's offices, but stopped his hand a few inches short of the handle upon seeing the complicated lock system with an ominously blinking red light. "Red means stop," He called with a laugh.
"And green," A woman's voice answered as the light turned colors and the lock clicked, "Means go, Mr. Cutler. Please, come in". I like her, Joshua thought as he turned the knob and pushed the door open. He stepped into the small hallway and caught a flash of golden hair moving into one of the five rooms—to accommodate him entering the painfully narrow hall, he noticed. "To your immediate right," She instructed, and Joshua stepped through that door as well.
He was met with a woman at least half a foot shorter than he was in heels, who held out her hand. "I'm Dr. Natasha White...nice to meet you," She said. Joshua glanced her over and felt under-dressed. Back at the station, everyone wore whatever was comfortable—nobody could see you on the radio, after all—so when he had headed to her office an hour and a half before his shift began, he put on his usual plain shirt and jeans, not to mention his much-beloved hat. Pair that with the facts that he had worn the same pair of brown shoes for two years and had let his flaming red hair dry with the kink from the elastic band in it; and it made for one nasty Joshua Cutler anyway. At least he had shaved.
But compare that to this gorgeous woman in front of him, and if it weren't for years of building his confidence, he would be crawling out the door with his tail between his legs. Natasha White was clean and crisp, gently business-like...dressed to impress, he supposed. And with a job like hers, it was a necessity. He took her hand with a smile.
"Hey there. Joshua Cutler," The woman smiled softly at him and shut her door.
"Please, sit down. I understand that this is not a visit for therapy, but for...a business opportunity, is it?". She asked him, her forehead wrinkling in confusion.
"Yes. I'm not asking you to leave Dark Stone Psychiatry, just to branch out a little more..." He paused as the wrinkle remained, and sighed. "Okay. Backing up. I'm a disc jockey for 104.1 The Tiger. I run the station from one to seven every evening. On the last hour of my shift, I do an informal advice session with callers...nothing against your job, but sometimes you can take awhile to answer a simple question. I can be...a little harsh, sure; but I'm honest".
"Perhaps that is best," Natasha mused from her leather chair. Looking to her eyes, he saw that the deep blue irises were kept gentle and non-judgmental, but still sharp. He looked away, scanning her PhD on the wall.
"Sometimes," Joshua shrugged. "I've worked for The Tiger since I was twenty-two, and for six years I've had no problems. I mean, we're talking over a thousand sessions here! And I've found that my...cynicism is good for dealing with girls with cheating boyfriends or a guy stuck in middle management. But lately....".
"Something has changed for you".
"...Men from the base outside the city have begun to call me. And...I just don't know what to say to a guy who's telling me that he hears his dying troop in his dreams; that he's scared to start his car because there might be a bomb there. I...I can't turn them away; not when they're so desperate for help that they call a radio program".
Dr. White was quiet for a moment. "I still don't understand. You want to refer these men to my office?".
"No. I did some research on legal matters involved with the idea, and thought that maybe, once or twice a week, you could come on the air with me? You wouldn't have to worry about being sued because by calling into a public broadcast, they wave all confidentiality rights, and the station would pay you for your time. Hell—I'd pay you for your time! I just need an hour or two a week when I know I can give these men something like solace. And...I read your dissertation about the negative effects of believing they had a mental stigma had on veterans, and Googled you, Dr. White. And you're good. I want them to get good help".
She was silent. "...Or, even if I could just refer them, or get some pointers or....". Natasha placed her hand on top of his clenched fist—when had he closed it?—and he stopped his thoughts.
"I'll do it," The blonde said. "When will you need me to come in?".
Joshua was...flabbergasted, to put it mildly. "Huh...? But...you...are you sure?".
"Our desire is the same," Natasha told him in her soft voice—that would be perfect for the show, he thought kind and non-threatening—as she drew back her hand. "And to see a stranger so willing to help others is inspiring. My hours here end at five, Mr. Cutler; so I could come in any day".
"Joshua," He corrected. "Please. And...hmm...can I try to weasel you into three days a week?". He smirked, reaching into his pocket. "C'mon. Heads you will, tails you won't?".
The look she gave him was that of a mildly offended school teacher. A sexy teacher. "If that will satisfy you, Joshua".
"What do you expect? This is Vegas," Joshua chuckled, controlling the pressure of his flick as the quarter sailed into tight spirals above his head. "And....Heads!". Flashing the face of the coin towards Natasha's face, he kept the same easy smirk as she peered at him with mild curiosity, tucking an errant strand of hair away from her eyes.
"Three days, then. Shall we say...Monday, Wednesday, and Friday?".
It was his turn to give her a strange look. "You'd give up your Friday evening to do this, doctor?".
"I don't have much else to do".
Joshua chose not to comment on that. "Okay, then. Uh, starting next week, I guess? I can have the station fax over some sort of contract tomorrow".
"That would be fine," Natasha nodded as she rolled her chair backwards to the cooler under her desk. She withdrew a sandwich from inside, asked if he minded, and held out half to him—and it was after he refused it and continued to brief her with expected salary, usual complaints, and other bits and pieces that he realized what she was doing.
"Natasha!" He said sharply, forgetting her title in his exasperation, "This is your lunch break?!". She swallowed a mouthful of turkey and lettuce before answering him. Joshua stood from his chair. "Eat, eat! God, here you are helping me out on your lunch hour and...I'm going to let you enjoy your lunch before your next patient gets here. Here's my card," He said quickly, placing the white rectangle on the desk next to her. "Call if you have questions...can I just walk out the door?".
Natasha set her food down and rose herself. "I need to let you out...it's totally secure, for out client's safety as well as our own". He let her into the hallway first, and she turned to awkwardly say goodbye in the little space. "Well, I suppose I'll see you Monday?".
Joshua grinned. "And every Monday after. Thank you so much, Dr. White".
"Natasha's fine," She smiled. "We're co-workers, after all".
His grin widened at that, and after a jaunty 'Later!', Joshua sped out of the office before he had a chance to look at the little girl again.
-)(-
"Um, Dr. White?". Natasha turned at the voice and saw the young receptionist holding a red file in her hands.
"Yes, Amelia?".
"Ah, the social worker is here with the...um, abuse victim, ma'am".
"Early?" The blonde girl nodded. "I see...would you like for me to get her doctor for you?".
"Yes. Doctor? Who was your last patient?".
"Hmm? Oh. He's not a patient at all, actually. He's a disc jockey that I'll be working with, starting next week. He works for 104.1. That's alternative rock, isn't it? Do you listen to it at all?"
Amelia's eyes lit up. "I knew I recognized his voice! That was Joshua! He gives such snappy comebacks to callers who try to heckle him...I'm a little jealous, Dr. White!".
Natasha smiled at the teenager. "Is that so? If that's the case, I'm envious of your bravery, Amelia. Not many high school seniors use their work permit to help at such a place".
"Thank you," She flushed. "But it's not scary for me here".
"Because you are brave enough to face the truth. And that can be the most difficult of all things," A deep voice responded. Both women turned to face Dr. Duessel, the child psychologist of the small group. Amelia's flush deepened even more at her idol's praise, and Natasha smiled up at the giant of a man. "And Natasha. What does this new partnership entail for you?".
"Nothing like what you think, Lance," She responded. "I'll be more than happy to tell you and Dr. Knoll about it later; but you have a patient waiting".
The large man agreed to that, and Natasha slipped back into her office to finish her lunch.
-)(-
Taking a breath in, Joshua hit the switch on the side of his headset. "Hey, Las Vegas! It's one o'clock here at The Tiger, and I'm about to bring you a set of some great songs. For those of you who don't know, I'm Joshua; and I'll be here with you until seven. Remember—we have our Bahama getaway contest at three, and the advice section is at six. But something new's coming to 104.1—beginning next week, we'll have the wonderful Dr. White here to help me answer your questions. Feel free to call in! Now, here's something new from Ex Mortem". He clicked the 'Play' option on the computer screen, and had barely turned off his headpiece when the call light flashed.
"You got her, man?!".
"Hey to you too, Gerik. Yes, she agreed to help out. Three days a week, too".
"Did you make her bet on it or something?".
"She would've done it anyway. A little solemn, but Natasha's kind".
"O-ho! First names, huh?".
"Since when were you the inquisitor, man?".
"Since you struck a deal with a smoking hot shrink! I saw that picture on Google!".
"You get to work with your wife".
"I never said she was prettier that Tethys," The other man laughed. "Hey. I'm glad you got her help, Josh. I know that it was eating you up, all the soldiers calling".
He smiled at his friend's gruff voice. "Yeah. Thanks for setting the appointment up for me". The older man insisted that it was "the missus' doing", but Joshua Cutler knew how efficiently the popular night DJ got things done. "Whatever, Gerik. I've got a playlist to set up here—can I talk to you later?".
"Sure! Oh, check your e-mail, too—your mom sent me a reminder to remind you that she forwarded you something about Castle Renais". At the red-head's groan, Gerik cackled. "Oh, she loves you! Deal with it!".
"I love her too, but I don't care about the casinos".
"Just read it, okay? I'll catch you in an hour".
Hanging up the phone, Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose before selecting two more songs to play and (reluctantly) opening up the Internet browser. A new message caught his eye—or rather, the sender's name did. Natasha White? He opened the e-mail message, read it, and let out another groan.
Joshua,
You left your wallet on my side table. I will return in to you when I get off of work.
After a quick glance to make sure his headset was still off, Joshua proceeded to curse every living thing in the city. Oh, that's a lovely first impression of me!
-)(-END-)(-
A few notes and an apology before you go!
CEOs or not, Innes and Ephraim are going to fight like they're seven. One has to pity Tana.
Security in a private office? Yes. Not only is this wise to make sure there's a record of business transactions, the camera was also placed after certain incidents with Lyon took place at Castle Renais. It should be noted that only the door of Eirika's personal suite is visible via security camera, as is custom with every other room in the hotel.
Yes, that was Myrrh and Saleh. I figured since we see one of them and get the mention of the other in the same chapter Joshua and Natasha are introduced in...well, why not?
Dark Stone Psychiatry? Lame attempt to get Grado in there somehow. You've got three guesses as to whom started the group.
Ex Mortem is the name of my brother's friend's band. I didn't want to have to deal with comments professing love or hate for a group—so I figured it''d be safest to go with an unknown one.
And I'm sorry if this was awkward to read. Just trying to get past the situational so I can move on to the good stuff!
Coming in "On the Job": Apparently, "some proficiency" to Seth Marshall means "blackbelt" to the rest of us; Joshua has never been so glad to forget his billfold; and Ismaire's e-mail isn't totally forgotten.