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Post by Deleted on Mar 8, 2014 21:53:11 GMT -5
When Vicki stared into Marc’s thoughtful blue eyes, her world stopped completely for a few moments. The kiss was definitely what she needed, and that smile of his worked magic. Forcing herself to look away, she tried to return to her senses and regain her composure.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, her cheeks rosy with embarrassment. “I shouldn’t have said that. It kinda slipped out.” She tried to stop herself from looking at him again, but she couldn’t. There was so much more she wanted to say to him, too, but the words failed her. What was wrong with her? She could write a newspaper article for her readers -- fans and critics -- any day of the week, but she couldn’t express herself to a man who was truly listening in person? This was a first for her! Marc’s facial expression seemed to beg for her to share her thoughts and heart completely. Without fear. Without ridicule. It was calling to her, and there was no way she could resist.
“What if - -“ she began and then stopped short. She chose her words carefully. She didn’t want to be misunderstood.
“What if the dream never becomes reality?” she inquired. “What if the one I’m with is good enough, and I overlook that because I refuse to settle? I’ve been searching so long that I don’t even know what I’m looking for anymore. The journey’s got to end somewhere, right? What if - -”
As she locked eyes with him, her eyes welled with tears.
“What if I wanted it to end right here? With you?”
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Post by Deleted on Mar 8, 2014 22:46:40 GMT -5
There had been a few feet of distance between them when he had kissed her. But that look on her face caused him to close it, his hand slipping around her hip and tugging her close. His hand was still along her cheek as his thumb went to wipe away any impending or threatening tears.
"Shh. I am not good with tears, Vicki. But your dreams are valid. I am not a mindreader, though. So speak your mind."
He was a man and the need to fix in him ran deep. Even as she was baring her emotions to him the urge to hold her took him over as he brought her closer. "Too many what-ifs. Stop thinking to the future. Just be. Right here. Now, with me."
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Post by Deleted on Mar 9, 2014 15:43:29 GMT -5
Marc’s last statements gave Vicki pause. He was absolutely spot-on. She needed to stop living for tomorrow. After all, tomorrows were made up of a series of todays, and she needed to enjoy the moment. The present was a present – a gift -- that she knew she shouldn’t take for granted.
Not now. Not ever again.
Vicki basked in the solace of Marc’s tight hug. Her rocking them side-to-side added to the sensation of the experience. She didn’t want them to stop the movement.
"I'm glad you're refurbishing your wardrobe," she laughed. "It sounds like you've made up your mind about moving to Gotham City. Was I the deciding factor, or was it Peyton's?" she asked playfully.
As they continued to sway in each other's arms, Vicki kept contemplating what she wanted in her dream man. She decided to tell Marc what she wanted from him in their friendship instead.
“I love free will. I hate free will,” she commented in a soft whisper. “Let me explain. Please?“
She lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled, knowing she had his full attention.
“I can’t make you do anything, Marc. You can’t make me do anything. The beauty of a friendship is that we WANT to do for each other. That’s what makes a friendship work – the investment of love, time, and patience.
“I don’t know what you want in a friend. I’m willing to be whatever you need. You seem to enjoy me sharing with you. Honestly, I feel exposed because I’m a writer and an artist -- my thoughts and emotions run deep. If you can’t tell, I’m feeling very vulnerable right now. It’s not that I’m not comfortable sharing with you -- no, it’s not that at all. It’s just that I’m scared of what you think of me now that you’ve heard me.
“I’m not shallow. That’s the last word I would ever use to describe myself. I could talk to you for hours, if you’d let me. I’m not very good at it, but I try to pace myself so I’m not like a tidal way and smother you with my thoughts and feelings all at once. Expressing myself this way is a good outlet for me. I just want you to be a friend and listen. Maybe your perspective will give me insight on stuff. I’m open to that. And that’s why I want to communicate. To you. With you. I trust you. I want you to know me, Mr. Marc Dahlmaine.
“Do I expect the same from you? No. Yes. Maybe. Let me explain.
“Communication is a two-way street. If I share with you, then you need to share with me. Fair is fair. I realize that men don’t talk like women do. They like their man-caves and try to work their problems out on their own, and that’s fine. You need space? I’ll give you space. You need to vent? You’ve got my ear. Feeling sad? You’ve got my shoulder – both shoulders if you need them. What matters most to me is that you know that you have a friend like me, if you ever need one. And if you never need me, that’s okay, too, but I’m still here for you.”
She stopped to let her words sink in and register with him. She hoped she was making sense. She studied his eyes, waiting for a cue to continue and bring her part of this conversation to a close.
“So, that's what I want from you -- as a male friend. Can you tell me what you want in a female friend, Marc? I’m willing to be your friend, but I need to know what you want from a friend. I'll get as close as you'll let me get. I don’t expect you to be mine exclusively, but I do want you to be a part of my life. I hope you want me in yours. To what extent is your choice.”
Vicki stopped. She felt her entire body trembling with fear. She had never been so open and honest like this before with anyone in her life -- not even Bruce Wayne. It was liberating, but it was also frightening at the same time. To be so real like this with a stranger – a person she’d just met a couple of hours ago – was unheard of, but Marc was becoming a good friend in their short time together. She just clicked with him. She felt very comfortable. She couldn’t explain it, and she didn’t want to, because if she over-analyzed it, she knew that, eventually, she’d wind up with nothing. Right now, all that mattered was she wanted Marc in her life. She wanted to enjoy the moment. This. Them. Each other. And deep down in her heart-of-hearts she wanted “you” and “me” to become “we”. She hoped he did, too. If not today, then someday. Whenever.
“I’m not good with tears either,” Vicki sighed, smiling weakly. “In fact, I loathe them. But they keep my heart tender, malleable, and teachable. I’m sure you’ve shed your share of tears over the years as well, haven’t you, Marc? For a man like you to have so much wisdom, you must’ve been taught in ways you’d never forget. Like they say, ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.' If that’s the case, then I must be frickin’ Wonder Woman.”
She got quiet and gave him a chance to speak.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 10, 2014 20:35:59 GMT -5
As his arms encircled her he pulled her close to cradle her head against his chest. And his new shirt. And sweater. She rocked them both a bit awkwardly there in the midst of the store. But he didn't mind. He glanced down at her when she asked a question of me.
"Neither, honestly. I had reconnected with an old friend. It was several days ago I made the decision. I have a brokerage company scouting me a flat in Gotham." He stated as his fingers ran through her hair.
Nodding to her again, he was apt to listen. She spoke eloquently and from the heart, and he felt the need to respond.
"No one makes a Dahlmaine do anything they are unwilling to do, Vicki. A friendship to me is give and take. A close hairsbreadth from a romantic undertaking." As she went on about her vocation, and her vulnerability, he nodded. He acutely was aware of both even without her needing to mention it. Her body language. Her tone of voice. She was putting herself out there, and he wasn't going to let her just hang.
"I cannot guarantee I can be your be all, end all. I do not judge based on your feelings. Or perceptions. I can see you falling fast and deep. But that is hard for me to do at times. Because of my own past."
He was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. What she said held weight. But he had to mull over much of it, as well. "I want us to be friends. Perhaps more. But we need to spend the time with one-another. Please do that for me, Vicki," he implored as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
She was very expressive. He needed time to think things over before he moved. He agreed with her thoughts on communication. But not the methods. He again nodded to urge her to continue.
"I use a different vein to communicate. I need time to think things over before I say them. And to be honest? I don't have female friends. I date women. I have few close, trusted male friends. I once trusted a woman, wholeheartedly. I then married her. We are not married anymore," He struggled to find his next words. "And I have never gotten over that. So I am a flawed man. But if you, for some reason, see something of worthy beyond my money, and my flaws, then that enough is for me to try, to try friendship, and even beyond that." His thumb caressed her cheek again as he looked down at her.
When she mentioned tears he half-smiled. He never liked them. He dealt with his emotions on a different level. As much as her heart had stayed tender, his was under several layers. Protective ones.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 10, 2014 22:44:20 GMT -5
As Marc shared with her as best he could, Vicki listened, while admiring his well-muscled shoulders, his rugged jawline, his sandy-blonde mane, his piercing blue eyes, and his oh-so kissable lips. She felt a flicker of awareness pass between her and Marc, and in that instant, it made Marc all that more alluring to her. Yes, they were on the same page now. Vicki was confident that things would work out for them -- as friends. Eventually..
When Marc finished, Vicki’s eyes sparkled with optimism. “Sure, we can spend time together,” she agreed, her face all aglow. “I’d like that. I enjoy your company.”
Both she and Marc were real people in the real world sharing a real moment. Was this actually happening though? The entire time she’d spent with Marc seemed like a fairytale to her. And Marc was definitely the kind of hunk who’d been made to awaken any sleeping beauty’s senses, hers included.
Her eyes lit up. “That’s enough drama for today,” she sighed. She kissed him again before she pulled away. “You have some suits to try on, Mister Show Pony! Go ahead and change. I’ll be out here waiting.”
As Marc disappeared into the dressing room area, Vicki sighed contentedly and walked back to the mirrors. She was glad she had shared what she did. It was all out in the open now, and she didn’t have to say anything more about it. She was fairly certain that Marc was attracted to her as well. Was he the answer to her prayers? The jury was still out on that one.
Vicki didn’t see Marc as her be all, end all. Ever since she’d moved to Gotham City, she’d been undeniably tough -- an independent woman making her way in the world as a successful photojournalist. She prided herself in being a lone survivor, a person who was able to handle any crisis on her own. No, she didn’t need a man to make her feel complete. She wanted a man to help her feel loved. She loved herself and was her own best friend, but she looked forward to having someone else in her life that genuinely cared about her, too.
Vicki was curious about Marc’s past, but she wasn’t about to pry. She figured he’d tell her all about it when he was ready, when the time was right. There was no reason to pressure him. Right now, all she wanted to be to him was the friend she wanted him to be to her. Vicki was glad he had left the door open for more than just a friendship, but she wasn’t going to force things. If it was meant to happen, their relationship would progress naturally.
She was surprised that Marc said he didn’t have many close friends. She was in the same boat. All she had were acquaintances, too. Vicki had noticed that Marc seemed guarded at times, and she wondered if it had anything to do with his ex-wife. She assumed his trust had been betrayed by his ex-wife in the past because he said he had never gotten over that. It must have been a deep, true love -- the kind of love Vicki had for Bruce Wayne.
Yes, she and Marc were hurting. Maybe their time together would help them both heal.
And, yes, Vicki saw more in Marc than he realized. She didn’t really see any flaws though -- not on the surface. She knew he could be stern by the way he clenched his jaw at times, but she didn’t think he had a mean bone in his body. Time would tell the tale if she was right or not.
When Vicki got to the mirrors, she looked at herself and liked what she saw – on the outside and the inside.
Vicki was startled when she saw Pierre pop up behind her in the mirrors. “Miss Vale,” he told her, “I want you to have this.” He placed the fifty dollar bill she had given him earlier in her open palm and closed her fingers around it. “I didn’t do anything to earn that. It wouldn’t be right to take your money. Please let me return it to you. I insist.”
Vicki kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you, Pierre.”
Pierre blushed. “You are quite welcome, Mademoiselle.” He took Vicki’s hand and added, “You and Mr. Dahlmaine are very lucky to have found each other. Please heed this word of advice from me, someone who had to learn it the hard way, and please share it with Mr. Dahlmaine: Don’t ever take your time together for granted. Enjoy each moment and each other each day. If you do that, neither one of you will ever have any regrets.”
Vicki smiled as Pierre kissed her hand.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2014 23:18:04 GMT -5
Marc nodded as she listened to the rest of his words. They would spend more time together. After he finished shopping. "I am glad. I have enjoyed this afternoon thus far."
Leaning in to kiss her was not a chore. As she mentioned his suits he nodded, taking them from her and going again to the dressing rooms. It was not difficult to strip off the soft sweater and the new oxford. On second thought he put the shirt back on. Replacing his trousers with the pinstriped, the jacket donned, he looked into the mirror.
Not bad. The door opened, and he went out to walk and see her opinion as well as Pierre's. The man stocked good clothing. And he was aiming to spend a small fortune to have a fair wardrobe.
One he had been fawned over appropriately he would go and change into the second, and third suits. A request was made for several additional colors, and several ties and pocketsquares. The shoes could come later. Perhaps he could repay the favor and help Vicki with her own wardrobe. On his dime.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 12, 2014 15:57:01 GMT -5
When Marc reappeared wearing the navy pinstripe suit, Pierre released Vicki’s hand and turned to greet him. “C'est magnifique, Mr. Dahlmaine!” he cheered, bursting into applause.
Vicki had to agree. Marc looked sharp. “Wow! The view just keeps getting better and better!” she quipped. “Have you ever modeled before, Marc? You certainly do have the features for it.”
Pierre noted the mirth in Vicki’s voice. “I haven’t seen you this happy since the last time you were here with Bruce Wayne!” he commented.
Vicki’s eyes widened at Pierre, and then they shifted sheepishly to Marc. She wished Pierre hadn’t mentioned Bruce.
“Um, . . . Pierre, could you please find us a black belt to go with this suit?” she asked, trying to change the subject quickly. "And a dress shoe -- preferably a Rockport Penny Loafer in black. Thank you.”
Pierre nodded, walked over to Marc, and whispered in his ear to get his waist and shoe sizes. Then he scurried away to collect the items Vicki had requested.
Walking over to Marc, Vicki smoothed out the shoulders of his coat and smiled. “Blue is definitely your color,” she told him. “It brings out your eyes.”
There was a twinge of fear in Vicki’s voice as she tried to carry the conversation and steer the topic of discussion away from Bruce Wayne. She really didn’t want to go there right now, but she would if Marc brought it up.
“So, what’s after this, Marc?” she asked, motioning for him to turn in a circle for her. “Can I take my new friend out for ice cream? I know it’s too early for dinner, but you must be hungry. As far as I know, you haven’t had lunch yet. There’s a little bistro up the street that I frequent occasionally. I think you’d really like it.”
She added with a smirk.
“And you can wear your new sweater, but I’m not letting you near another cup of coffee!”
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Post by Deleted on Mar 14, 2014 4:47:09 GMT -5
Nodding to Pierre he did a slow circle to show off the suit as well to Vicki. "No. No want to. I appreciate it, but my heart is in my family's business. Wine and grapes are my future." Turning to Pierre he narrowed his eyes slightly at the mention of another man. "Bruce Wayne? Doesn't he own a company of sorts?" If Vicki had dated this man prior, what chance did he have with her? This was something she had not said to him. Hm.
Quickly enough Vicki had the merchant searching for other items. He owned a black belt already but a second one was always nice to have on hand. Telling Pierre both shoe size, and waist he had to blink and convert them for American standards. They were peculiar as he was quite trim in European fashions, finding most American garments too boxy for him.
"You have a good eye for menswear. Perhaps Peyton's should hire you on. No doubt you'd earn fantastic commission." He teased slightly his hand going about her waist to draw her near.
"No ice cream now. But coffee can only tide a man over for a short while. I trust in your taste for restaurants after this endeavor." He noted she fit near perfectly against him as he looked down.
"Let me make sure these shoes and belt fit, and square my bill with Pierre. No doubt he can send the items to my suite. I'd rather not carry them with us to our siesta." He smirked, kissing her temple before spinning in a circle as she requested.
He chuckled at her joke. "You are too correct. Next thing we know I will need a sippy cup!" Stripping off the jacket he hung it up and tugged his new sweater on over it. He disappeared behind the curtain to shift into his prior slacks as well, returning to his shoes.
It wouldn't be long before he made sure shoes and belt matched, and guided Vicki to the register to speak with Pierre.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 14, 2014 14:12:56 GMT -5
Vicki smiled at Marc when he spun in a circle for her and Pierre. “Well, if you ever want to give male modeling a try, I have a few connections,” she sighed. Then as Pierre knelt and began measuring Marc’s inseam, she pictured Marc as an underwear model and started fanning herself with both of her hands. “Is it hot in here, or is it just you, Marc?” she quipped. Her inquiry, followed by a light giggle, even made Pierre laugh out loud as he hemmed each of the suit’s pant legs.
Pierre was shocked when Marc asked about Bruce Wayne. Hadn’t he ever heard of Wayne Enterprises? Hadn’t he seen Wayne Tower, the gleaming monument erected in the heart of Gotham City? Pierre didn’t want to embarrass Marc in any way and decided to answer the question politely.
“Bruce Wayne is the most prominent person living in Gotham City today,” he informed Marc. “The only one to even come close to outranking him in popularity and recognition is the Batman. Bruce’s parents, Thomas and Martha Wayne, invested a fortune to make this city great. Bruce keeps their memory and dream alive by doing the same with his inherited wealth.”
Meanwhile, Vicki watched the two men conversing and wondered what Marc was thinking at that very moment. She hoped he wasn’t comparing himself to Bruce Wayne in any way. With each passing day, her time with Bruce was becoming a distant memory. Vicki didn’t want to hold on to a memory. She wanted somebody with skin on.
When Pierre dashed away to find Marc a belt and the loafers, Vicki beamed at Marc’s compliment of having a good eye for menswear. “It’s easy for me. I know what clothes I like to see men in,” she replied, licking her lips and undressing Marc with her eyes. She was picturing him in his birthday suit. She had no doubt that was his best suit of all. He certainly was a decadent piece of eye candy.
She laughed at his joke about earning fantastic commission. Then the next thing she knew, he was embracing her. That look in his eye told her he was enjoying the closeness, and she was glad he felt comfortable with it, too. They did make a cute couple.
When he declined her offer of getting ice cream in favor of the bistro instead, Vicki nodded. “If you trust me with your clothes, you can trust me with your stomach, too!” she teased. “For the record, I’m an excellent cook,” she added. “I once dated a chef who told me all his secrets. I’d love to make dinner for us next time. It’s not an inconvenience at all. I enjoy cooking, but rarely get many opportunities to actually do it. I think it would be fun.”
Marc’s kiss on her temple made her think of her father. He used to do that, too, when she was growing up. She returned the sentiment with a gentle kiss on his cheek. She kept her lips pressed a bit longer than expected, hoping he got the subtle message that she appreciated his public display of affection immensely.
She exhaled deeply when he told her he wanted them to settle up with Pierre and be on their way. It depressed her to know that their time together was drawing to a close. His mention of needing a sippy cup and then spinning in a circle for her one last time diffused her somber mood. Yes, laughter was good medicine. “You make a great show pony!” she giggled perkily, as she helped him off with his suit coat. Then she watched him march off to change back into his street clothes.
“Don’t be sad, Miss Vale,” Pierre told her when they were alone again. He showed her the black belt and shoes, and she approved. “Mr. Dahlmaine is quite smitten with you. Trust me. I’m a man. I know these things.”
“I just want him to like me,” Vicki sighed.
“Like you?” Pierre questioned. “I think he’s way beyond liking you! Just keep being yourself, Vicki.”
His usage of her first name caught her attention. It was the first time he ever called her that.
Pierre had done it on purpose. “Just keep being yourself, dear friend. That’s who I fell in love with. Marc will, too, in time.”
With that, they walked to the register and waited there for Marc to join them.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2014 0:21:41 GMT -5
His hand scraped across his jaw as he thought of that. No. Maybe if he was ever hard up for money. Which he wasn't. As she started waving her hands around, his eyes scanned around her. "It might be." Was his cheeky response before he stood with his legs apart so Pierre could check his cuffs.
So when the jovial man explained who this Wayne fellow was, he nodded. "Ah. And you dated him? He must be settling for less with his current flame, Vicki." Was all he contributed. Being a relative newcomber to the city, he's kept his feet to the pavement. Exploring the nooks and cranies of the culinary world.
"Batman is that joke at night, no? And I am not quite up to speed on Gotham's who's who, Peyton. I appreciate the lesson. It gives me something to springboard from."
"I appreciate your help. I will be better clad, and Pierre will have some money to purchase something for himself." He shoved his hands into the suitpants pockets, rocking on his feet as he waited for his shoes and belt.
"You seem to have fantastic taste in the opposite sex, Vicki. Let me change, and perhaps someday I will be able to sample your skills." He was then into the the changing room and out. He just had to tuck his shirt in and make sure he had his wallet to pay. A quick glance in the mirror and he cringed. His hair was getting too long.
Making his way to the register he had his wallet at hand to pay. "And the total, Mr. Peyton?" He glanced to Vicki with a half-smile on his face.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2014 13:10:59 GMT -5
Marc’s confirmation that the rise in room temperature might be caused by his good looks amused Vicki. She appreciated Marc’s form – that was a given – but she also found pleasure in his sense of humor. She loved the fact that Marc laughed with her, not at her, and that he was a good sport about humor centered around himself. He came across as the type of man who knew he was handsome but didn’t bring attention to it. His aura radiated strength and power, which attracted Vicki like a moth to the flame. She found his confidence in himself sexy as hell.
Vicki was flattered by Marc’s comment about Bruce settling for less. Her eyebrows shot up when Marc referred to Batman as “that joke in the night”.
“Batman should be commended for aiding police enforcement in Gotham,” Pierre said in defense of the Dark Knight. “A joke? You may want to revisit that perception in your thoughts at a later time, Mr. Dahlmaine. Gotham needs all the help she can get. This city is hurting, and the police are spread so thin that they can’t bring justice. Batman goes outside the law to find justice.”
Vicki could tell Pierre had a heart for Gotham City, just like she and Batman did.
“This city needs help. I’m just less particular where it comes from. And you are very welcome, sir. I am glad I could enlighten you concerning your query.”
As Pierre ran off to find the belt and shoes, Vicki watched Marc standing there with his hands in his pockets and rocking on his feet. He looked so adorable and bashful to her. As their conversation continued without Pierre, Vicki mentioned lunch, and Marc favored the suggestion. Helping him remove his suit coat, Vicki encouraged Marc to change clothes so they could be on their way.
When Marc finally arrived at the register, Pierre was still figuring out the bill. Returning Marc’s half-smile with her own awkward -- but happy -- expression, Vicki wondered if she should even be in earshot. She braced herself mentally for the grand total.
“Including the alterations to some of the garments, your total today is $19,875.00,” Pierre announced in a whisper. Vicki thought that was odd, because no one else was in the store. “That doesn’t include the tip, sir,” he added with a deadpan stare, making sure Marc knew that information.
“Of course not,” Vicki added, trying not to laugh. “Thank you, Pierre. Heaven forbid that Marc forgets the tip. Not after all the excellent customer service you’ve provided this afternoon.”
Then she gave Pierre a wink, hinting that she really did appreciate the time he spent accommodating Marc on the spur of the moment.
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Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2014 4:20:13 GMT -5
"Perhaps I will, Mr. Peyton. But a man who dresses as a Bat to fight such personas as a clown and a man who deals with riddles sounds like he has too much time on his hands. Trust in your police force. They seem to do much of the work around here and get little credit for it." He responded. Justice was not his job. That was for those who wore different uniforms than him.
Opening his wallet as the number was announced, he handed over a black American Express between thumb and forefinger. He reached into his pocket again, and pulled out his passport, just in case. Vicki added something about the tip, and he glanced to look at her. Why would he forget the tip? He knew about gratuities.
"Unless there is a different custom in American than there is where I am from, I am quite aware of gratuities. But I appreciate the reminder from you both." As soon as he had a receipt to sign, he'd add an additional six thousand to the bill. Flipping the paper he would scrawl the address to his hotel before putting pen and receipt to the counter.
"Mr. Peyton I can not thank you enough for making time for me to expand my wardrobe here. I will be back again. If you could make sure these things are delivered to my suite, I'd greatly appreciate it." Offering his hand to the man he shook it firmly before curling an arm around Vicki.
"And you might want to rethinking hiring Ms. Vale. She knows her fashion, and how to upsale only the best without pressure." He kissed the crown of her head before tucking both passport and wallet back into his slacks.
"Shall we eat, Vicki?"
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Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2014 13:55:39 GMT -5
As Marc handed his credit card to Pierre, Vicki's eyes met Marc’s glance to her. She hadn’t meant to offend him about remembering the tip. She was just playing along with Pierre, who wasn’t playing at all. Pierre was dead serious about including the tip. It was his bread-and-butter.
Marc’s words concerning gratuity seemed gracious enough, but Vicki still felt uneasy. She began fidgeting nervously, avoiding Marc’s eyes altogether as Pierre handed back the credit card and passport.
“Your items will be sent to your suite within the hour, Mr. Dahlmaine,” Pierre assured Marc, firmly shaking his hand before checking the address to make sure he could read it. “It has been a pleasure doing business with you this fine afternoon, sir. If there is anything I can do to make your transition to Gotham City an easier one, please do not hesitate to call on me. I look forward to your continued patronage in the future.” He made sure Marc had one of his business cards.
Vicki’s fear subsided when Marc wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. How did he know to do that? Did he sense her discomfort, or did he just want to hold her? It was uncanny. Being with Marc felt so . . . right.
His comment to Pierre about hiring her was totally unexpected by Vicki. She had never given the idea any consideration until Marc brought it to Pierre’s attention. She did enjoy the masculine form, and she was just being honest with Marc about his attire and what she thought he’d look good wearing. Never before had she heard anyone comment about her taste in fashion, and it made her smile. It felt wonderful for someone to notice and appreciate it.
The kiss made Vicki tingle all over. She melted into Marc’s embrace as he slipped his credit card and passport into his pants pocket with his free hand. All she could think about was how easily she could get used to this public display of affection. Then she cocked her head and looked up at Marc sheepishly, feeling her cheeks flushing slightly. She couldn’t help looking at him. Marc was definitely distracting -- in a good way.
“Yes, we shall!” she answered, imitating Marc’s accent. With a wave to Pierre, she walked with Marc toward the exit.
Vicki knew it had been no ordinary day, and she wanted to take a photo to remember it by. “I wish I had brought my camera with me,” she told Marc, once they were outside. Her expression brightened when she saw a street photographer in the distance. “Do you mind, Marc?” she asked, pointing to the man. “I’d like to take a picture of us to remember this day. For sentimental reasons.”
Walking over to the street vendor, Vicki read the price chart as she fumbled in her purse for her wallet. “Will you take our picture please?” she asked, handing him the payment in full. She had given him enough money for two 8x10 and two 5x7 sheets.
The man nodded, taking and pocketing the money.
“Smile,” she told Marc as they posed for the street photographer. “Pretend you enjoy being with me.”
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Post by Deleted on Mar 19, 2014 16:36:40 GMT -5
Taking the business card he slipped it into his wallet as well, and nodded. "I appreciate the help, Pierre. Thank you again." Wallet was slipped into his pocket again.
"Most phones have cameras, no?" He'd seen enough people on them during the day that he believed very few people to be without them any more. "My hair is awful I will admit. It's never this long." His hand ran along his beard as well. He'd need to clean up, and soon. "Perhaps we will need photos of the 'after' as well. Do you know a barber, or whatever they call a stylist here in Gotham, Vicki? After the phone and eating, perhaps can do that. I do have scissors at home, as well." He didn't like that option either.
"No, I do not mind." They walked across the street and he looked at the other photos that had been taken at the vendor. It seemed that nearly everything was peddled on the streets of Gotham. Mostly food he had noted.
As Vicki paid Marc did as she asked, slipping an arm around her and smiling.
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Registered On: Apr 23, 2024 10:05:47 GMT -5 ~
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Last Edit: Mar 19, 2014 23:06:22 GMT -5 by Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 19, 2014 19:43:02 GMT -5
Vicki was offended when Marc mentioned a camera phone. “I’m the type of person who seeks quality,” she informed him. “If anything is worth doing, it’s worth doing right or not at all.” The tone of her voice was unmistakable. She was dead serious.
When Marc mentioned his long hair and beard, Vicki took that into consideration. “You have a point,” she agreed. “We may have to come back later and take another picture.” She grinned seductively at him. “But I do like the ‘scruffy Marc', as well,” she teased, kissing away any inhibitions that he might’ve had at the moment.
After they had posed for the picture, Vicki asked the vendor if they could come back later. He told them he would be open until five o’clock. Vicki looked at her watch. It was a little after two-thirty.
Taking Marc’s hand, Vicki started marching. “C’mon!” she told him. “We’ve got to get you cleaned up! We have a deadline to meet! Welcome to my world!”
Vicki took Marc to her salon, Kiss and Makeup, which was three blocks away. When they walked in, she motioned for Marc to have a seat, and she went and talked to the receptionist on duty.
“Is Karyn still here?” she asked.
Suddenly, an elderly silver-haired lady stepped out of the backroom. She had her coat on and looked as If she was about to leave for the day.
“Karyn!” Vicki exclaimed, waving to her.
“Vicki!” Karyn called back. “It’s so good to see you. What brings you here today? I just did your hair last week. Your next appointment isn't until next month.”
“I was wondering if you had time to do my friend’s hair,” Vicki replied, pointing to Marc. “I want to take a picture with him, but he looks absolutely dreadful! He looks like a bushman!”
Karyn gave Marc a once-over. She didn't agree. Her facial expression said it all. She liked what she saw.
“Would you be a dear and help a friend out? Everyone knows you’re the best in town. I wouldn’t trust Marc with anyone else.”
Karyn smiled. “Flattery will get you EVERYWHERE, Vicki Vale!” she cackled. She took off her coat and walked back to her station. When she was ready for Marc, she called to him. “Come on, handsome. Let me do you!”
The other beauticians and customers laughed at Karyn’s joke.
Smiling to herself, Vicki took a seat and began reading magazines. She knew Marc was in good and capable hands.
After Marc was seated in her chair, Karyn draped Marc in a salon cape and consulted with him as to what style cut he wanted. Then she winked an eye and said, “Don’t worry, handsome. I’ll be gentle.”
There was more laughter.
Then she added, “Can I interest you in a pedicure today? There’s no feeling like it in the world!”
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