The Job Interview
by Soledad
A "Pathways in the Dark" story
Part 03 of "The Toreador Chronicles". Follows "The Job Interview".
For disclaimer and background information see the Introduction.
Rating: 16+, mostly for language and implied sexual content.
Author's note: Originally, the "reading the blood" thing was an ability of the vampires as they were shown in the Forever Knight series. Members of Clan Lasombra are said to possess various arcane abilities, so I supposed they could do this, too, without any canon proof. In Phillippe Navital's case, however, it's just a personal talent, nothing else.
Summary: Brian meets his future employers and gets the job, not knowing what he's gotten himself into.
Basic rule of advertising and eternal damnation: Once you sell your soul to the devil, he holds the copyright. – Brian Kinney
They were offered launch in a nearby restaurant – which, apparently, belonged to Victor Girard, too – and took a nap in their respective quarters to recover from the flight. Well, Brian did; Emmett sneaked out and had a steamy encounter with the handsome bartender of the D'Oblique in the men's room. But again, he didn't have to keep his mind sharp for the afternoon. Besides, in the recent months Brian was slowly getting tired of the meaningless one-night-stands with men he wouldn't give a shit otherwise. Maybe he was getting old. Maybe he was about to begin a more… mature phase of his life – the thought was positively frightening. He only hoped that the lawyer would prove distracting enough, for the duration of his visit in LA at least.
Shortly before 7 pm, Mme DuBois came personally to fetch him for the big interview. She smiled at Brian pleasantly, as if sensing his nervosity.
"You've made a good first impression," she told him. "Keep up the speed, and you'll have the job nailed by tonight."
Brian couldn't help but smiling back. She had something of Cynthia in her, and also something of Debbie – only on a more elegant, more educated level. He liked her immediately. Contrary to common belief, he did like women – just in a completely non-sexual way. Some of them, like Lindz, could be great friends, some could be fantastic co-workers like Cynthia, and some could be like Deb, the übermother of Liberty Avenue. He wouldn't miss the friendship with them for anything. There was a certain irony in the fact that while he was only interested in men for sex, the only ones he could really bond with were women.
Well, aside from Mikey, of course. But he was not going there. That was a loss he was still recovering from.
Catherine DuBois ushered him into Victor Gerard's office again. This time, the room was full. Brian recognized the fashion czar and his lawyer among them. There was a beautiful Asian woman on Girard's side, business written all over her face, and there were two other men he didn't know yet. One was wearing an Armani suit, just like the lawyer, the other one had casual, but apparently expensive clothes, the golden G of the Girard Fashion House embroidered in the breast pocket of his cobalt blue satin shirt and the waistboard of his designer jeans. Emmett, led in by the pale-faced Claude Bellamy, stared at the elegant gathering with his mouth literally agape.
"I think we should start with the introductions," Girard said, gesturing towards the seats left empty for Brian and Emmett. "My friends, this is Mr. Kinney, of whom you've all heard already. His… associate is Mr. Emmett Honeycutt. Gentlemen, meet some of my associates. Mistress Mei-ji," he nodded to the Asian beauty, "is the owner of the Jade Flower boutique chain where we hope to sell our new collections. Louis Fortier, representing the Bank of Lyon," he introduced the man in the Armani suit, "and Alain DeLaigle, painter and fashion designer, owner and lead artist of the DeLaigle Ateliers."
Both Fortier and DeLaigle seemed to be in their mid-thirties, and both were handsome and elegant, not in the muscle-bound, fitness-mad Californian way, but possessing a timeless grace so typical for a certain sort of French men… the same one as the lawyer, actually. Brian began to like his potential new clientele. It definitely had possibilities.
Of course, he had to get the job first.
"Where are the others?" Fortier asked with a frown. It was obvious that he was the one making the call… and having the real big money… in this particular group.
"The Vignes have been hindered by some studio business and asked to be excused," Mme DuBois reported, "and Diego has just called. He got caught in a traffic jam and will be late."
"What's new?" the stormy grey-blue eyes of Alain DeLaigle mirrored cold annoyance. "When has he ever been on time?"
"Patience, mon ami," Girard soothed him. "Be more forgiving with the folly of the untamed youth… and their artistic tempers."
"Artistic tempers?" DeLaigle snorted. "I am the artist, and I manage to be reliable nevertheless. Diego is just a web designer, and it wouldn't be asking too much of him to be punctual, just this one goddamn time. He's the one who's going to work with Kinney directly, after all. You're giving him too much leeway, Victor. Were he mine, he'd never dare to take such liberties."
"What a charming guy," Brian commented softly, only for Emmett, but Phillipe Navital somehow managed to pick up the comment.
"He does have his moments," he said with a suggestive twinkle in his eyes.
"I'm sure," Brian replied dryly. I just hope I'll never experience one of them.
The lawyer smiled. "No, really, he's not so bad. When you learn to know him better, you'll see his… appealing side."
"I thought I was supposed to learn to know you better," Brian riposted, his poker face firmly in place. But the lawyer was at least as good at this game as he was.
"The two things aren't mutually exclusive," he replied, completely unfazed. "We see those things pretty relaxed here."
The introductions finished, another bottle of excellent red wine was opened, and they finally sat down to begin the actual job interview. To Brian's surprise, although they seemed to want him for the job, they were testing him harder than he'd ever been tested before. They asked about his past campaigns, giving him a laptop with Internet access to show them samples of his work. They needled him about his knowledge concerning fashion; at this point, he had to rely on Emmett heavily, and got a little concerned that they wouldn't find him competent enough. They wanted to check his contacts to the gay community, especially journalists, asked about his way of working and thinking… to be able to provide the right working environment, as they said. They even asked about his family and his now-gone relationship with Justin.
At first, the personal questions annoyed him to no end, and he seriously considered to just quit the whole thing and go home. But as he began to understand how much money there was at stake, how big a risk it was for his future employers to hire someone they didn't know and who wasn't exactly a big name in the ad branch, at least not yet, he decided they had the right to know certain facts before actually giving him the job. Besides, if he got the job, this could bring him out big time, so he swallowed his annoyance and answered as honestly as he felt it safe.
Emmett had to undergo the same thorough inquisition. Well, actually an even more thorough one, since their potential clients hadn't had any previous knowledge about him. But due to his open, easy-going manner, he took it a lot lighter than Brian did, and was on his best way to charm everyone out of their expensive suits. Emmett definitely had a certain quality that was hard to resist.
Finally, around half past eight, they ran out of questions… and seemed quite satisfied with the results. Especially Fortier and Girard, who were obviously the leading parties.
"What do you think, Phillipe?" Fortier asked. The lawyer shrugged.
"My advice would be to stick to the original plan and hire Mr. Kinney for the fashion campaign for starters. If he does a good job, which I actually expect, we can think about setting up a permanent partnership with Kinnetic. At least for the Fashion House; the others can decide for themselves."
"I want him, too," the Asian beauty declared. "My business isn't currently endangered by Rebecca, but I like to be a step ahead of the concurrence all the time. And I'll be selling your new collection, Victor, so I need good PR for it."
"Two campaigns then," the lawyer nodded, "plus some help with the new cologne brand launch; I heard it's stagnating at the moment." He turned to Brian, all business now. "We can offer ten per cent above your usual price, plus a fifteen per cent divide in case the campaign is successful. You'll live in LA for the duration and overlook everything personally. Do you agree with the conditions?"
Brian nodded. This was a reasonable offer – enough for him to make reasonable profit and cover his expenses. Any higher offer would be suspicious. Besides, he knew when he could haggle for a higher price – this was not one of those times. These people knew exactly what they wanted and what it was worth. Living in LA wasn't going to be a problem either, Cynthia and Ted could run Kinnetic on their own for indefinite time. In fact, the prospect of living in LA, with its large and colourful gay subculture was an added bonus.
"What about Emmett?" he asked. He needed the nelly for this job, but he wasn't willing to pay for everything.
"We'd like to hire him for the duration of the campaigns," Navital answered, naming a payment that wasn't particularly high in LA terms but twice the sum Emmett could have hoped to make in Pittsburgh, unless he sold himself to some porn site again, of course. "When his input turns out useful, we'll negotiate about hiring him on a permanent basis."
"What do you think, Em?" Brian asked. "You gonna accept?"
"Are you crazy?" Emmett asked back, excitement clear in his voice. "This is the best offer I've got since Ted's site was closed! Of course I'm gonna accept, I'm gay, not stupid, you know. Aside from the money, I get to live in LA for… how long exactly?" he asked the lawyer. Navital smiled.
"The campaigns are supposed to run for three months… after which we'll need something new. Monsieur Girard wants to start with one collection first and broaden it gradually. In which case your contracts would be renewed, of course. As you probably know, aside from haute couture and movie and TV costumes, the Girard Fashion House also produces various collections for the average customer."
"That's where my boutiques enter the game," Mei-ji injected. "They are quite popular in California and in certain Asian countries, so the market is reasonably large."
Brian made a mental notice of this. Such a big market had possibilities, but it also meant that they'll have to take the different tastes into consideration. Asian models in case the campaign would be extended to the Asian countries.
"Very well," he said. "Now that you have us both, what's the next step?"
"I'll bring you the contracts to sign tomorrow," the lawyer said. "Say, at 1900? In the meantime, Alain can take you to meet the designers and see some of the models, perhaps. And Diego, of course, assuming he manages to reappear before the season is over."
"I'll need a place to work," Brian said. "Preferably undisturbed."
"You can have one of the studios in my atelier," DeLaigle offered. "Diego uses it sometimes, but it's mostly empty."
"Once our association becomes permanent, we'll help you to find a house or an apartment to your liking," Girard added. "Louis has some… interest in one of the biggest real estate agencies."
I'm sure he has, Brian thought, still stunned what a big fish he'd managed to pull ashore. There was more money present than he could even start to imagine. But out loud he only voiced his agreement. They didn't need to know how overwhelmed he was by this opportunity.
That settled, the discussion was over fairly quickly. The tycoons took their leaves, satisfied with the agreement, leaving the visitors in Phillipe Navital's care. The lawyer stood, too, and stretched his back with an audible knack and a relieved groan.
"I think I've chosen the wrong profession," he complained. "These gatherings seem to last longer and longer every time. So, do you guys have any plans for the evening? The night has just begun, we can go out and hit the bars… or are you too jet-lagged for that?"
"Not at all," Brian said, sleep definitely not being something he wanted right now, and Emmett agreed enthusiastically.
"Where would you like to go?" the lawyer asked, fishing out his cell phone and rattling down a long list of instructions to someone called Maria in rapid French sentences. His secretary, most likely; although she must have weird working hours, Brian thought.
"This is our first time in LA," he answered, "so we'll leave the choice in your hands. Some nice place to eat and probably dance afterwards would be fine. But nothing kinky… at least not today," he added with a lewd grin.
The lawyer grinned back. "I promise good food and tame entertainment for tonight. Would that suffice?"
"As long as the clientele is male," Emmett quipped.
"Unless it would make you uncomfortable to go to a gay bar with us," Brian clarified, "In which case we can rent a car and go alone."
Navital shrugged. "Why would I be uncomfortable?"
"You're out?" Emmett asked, knowing that in conservative business circles being gay could be a serious disadvantage. Even in LA, a city with its own large gay community and considerably higher tolerance level than Pittsburgh.
The lawyer laughed. "Sort of. I'm bi, actually, and I usually prefer women. But from time to time, I like to make an exception," he added, with a predatory gleam in his eyes that made Brian shiver.
They took Navital's black corvette and drove to the bar of the lawyer's choice. It tuned out a pleasantly eclectic mix of elegance and avantgarde, with lots of privacy, due to the boxes divided by decorative folding screens. The food was indeed good, the music even better, and while Emmett was reached from dance partner to dance partner, swinging on the waves of success and sudden popularity, Brian and Phillipe danced with each other all the time, pressing against each other, "mapping territory", as Mikey would have called it. Brian suppressed that memory ruthlessly. He wasn't going there. No way. Not tonight.
The style and obvious experience of his partner was something new for him, having been the aggressive one in his sexual encounters for the last decade and half or so. But that was with horny young tricks in a not particularly elegant disco. The man with whom he was dancing now positively radiated power and self-confidence, taking over control smoothly not only over their kiss but also their whole encounter. He forced them to go slowly, and Brian, used to quick fucks in backrooms, was crawling up the walls in frustration.
"You've got the fire… yet neither the style, nor the patience," Phillipe murmured, breaking the kiss and giving Brian's flushed face and moist lips an appreciating look. "But it doesn't matter. You're beautiful, and I'm feeling reckless tonight. Maybe I can show you a thing or two to make it worth your time, eh?"
Brian gave him an almost convincingly sceptical look. In fact, he was looking forward to this new experience. He'd tried everything in Pittsburgh, and quite frankly, he was growing bored and tired of it all. Maybe it was time to make a step forward.
Phillippe fetched his cell phone and instructed Claude Bellamy to fetch Emmett from the bar, then he ushered Brian back to his car. To Brian's surprise, they returned to the D'Oblique.
"I don't take people I barely know home," he explained simply.
"Afraid of being killed by a madman?" Brian teased.
"Not really," the lawyer said dryly. "They would have to try very hard to kill me… and fail. I just value my privacy, that's all."
That was something Brian could understand very well, so they went up to his room. Phillipe ordered more wine from the D'Oblique; it was delivered within five minutes, together with a few items he had not ordered, but which the well-trained personnel seemed to know they would need.
"So, Brian," Phillipe said, when room service left. "Are you ready to test new waters?"
And Brian knew that he was more than ready.
Some three hours later, when Brian was lying on his belly, thoroughly fucked and out like a light, Phillippe fetched his cell phone from the bed table and punched in a number from his speed dial list.
"Alain?" he asked when someone picked up the phone on the other end of the connection. "Yeah, it's me. I just wanted to warn you: be careful with this one. I think he's a resistor."
"Have you tasted him?" DeLaigle asked.
"In his sleep only," Navital replied, "so he'll think it was a weird dream, even if he remembers anything. His blood has a heady taste. You'll like it. But he man himself can give you the creeps."
"Now, that's weird, coming from a vampire," DeLaigle commented dryly.
Navital shook his head, although, of course, the other vampire couldn't see it.
"I'm serious, Alain. I've never been with anyone whose eyes would remain so… so dead, after hours of mutually satisfying sex."
"You mean he doesn't like sex?" DeLaigle sounded surprised, and rightly so. Based on Brian's reputation, this was certainly unexpected.
"Oh, his body enjoys it," Navital said, stroking the smooth curve of Brian's bare ass with his free hand, "and he's very good at it – technically. All that practice must be paying out, I guess. But… I don't know, it's somehow eerie how empty his eyes were all the time."
"We've seen this before," DeLaigle said calmly. "Beautiful young men who knew all about sex but nothing about lovemaking."
"It could prove extremely… pleasurable to teach him the latter," Navital said. "I'd love to keep him, but he's not Ventrue material. He'd be unhappy, trapped in our Clan. He's been born to become a Toreador, I think. But Alain, you must be very careful with him. Behind that cynical persona he's developed to perfection, he's deeply wounded. It would be easy to break him, once you got behind the protective walls, but that would only make him take a walk in the sun."
"Are you sure you don't have a Lasombra somewhere in your bloodline?" DeLaigle asked. "Someone who can read blood he's just tasted this well gives me the creeps."
"I'm sure," Navital laughed, quietly, not wanting to wake his mortal lover. Brian would need his strength tomorrow. "It's just a talent, nothing more."
"And your really think I'd be able to bond this man?" DeLaigle's voice was full of doubt. "I'm not exactly the nurturing sort, as you know."
"You did well enough with Oliver and Pierre," Navital said, "not to mention Sarina."
"I'm just fostering Sarina," DeLaigle pointed out, "and after being impregnated with demon spawn, my tempers are really the smallest evil she can met in her young life. But this man… he seems to be a complicated case."
"You'll do just fine," Navital replied with a shrug. "You are old, experienced and powerful; you'll be able to seduce him into our world. All you'll need is ungodly amounts of patience. It won't be easy, for sure. But in the end, it would be worth the efforts, I think."
"We'll see," DeLaigle said, still doubtfully. "Tell him I'm going to fetch him and that bird of paradise of his at 9 pm, will you?"
"Bien sûr. Have a pleasant night."
"You, too," with that, DeLaigle hung up. For him, the night had just begun.
Navital slipped out of the bed, took a shower, got dressed, and – placing a note for Brian on the bedside table – quietly left the room.
"Alain will be coming to fetch them at nine in the morning," he told Catherine DuBois, who was controlling the books in one of the offices. "They'll need a wake-up call an hour earlier, and probably a big breakfast. Can you organize that?"
She nodded, making a note of the order. Phillipe kissed her – they had had a friendly, non-committal on and off relationship for several years by now – and went home. Several hours of work were still waiting for him. Setting up Brian and Emmett's contracts, among other things.
He sighed tiredly. Being up and walking around in the sunlight all day was taking its toll on him, despite the fact that he'd fed on his bed partner and thus felt pleasantly warm. It was fortunate, that vampires needed a lot less sleep than mortals did.
The End - for now