THIS TIE COULD INVERT TO BE A NOOSE INSTEAD.

“ Oh how I wish others would follow your lead. Cake and cards pale in comparison. Dare I ask how this fell into your hands? Or is it best not to? ”

Slender fingers tighten around the glass she had moments ago retrieved as he begins his lament, lest it accidentally fall from her hand and smash against the wall beside him.

“ Oh I’m the child, am I? ” she has to laugh— a short huff of near disbelief— still after all this time astounded by his unyielding obstinacy.  “ What’s ‘spectacularly unattractive’, my love, is flirting with a barely legal tart of a waitress all night, simply because she feigns an interest in your choice of Château-bloody-Latour. ”

He probably ought to at least put in some effort to keep himself from rolling his eyes at the absolute ludicrous nature of her accusations. He fails, of course, ends up rolling his eyes excessively and only just keeps himself from groaning in sheer bloody agony.

“ Va te faire foutre, Gabriel. ”

The insult is spat like venom through Irene’s teeth the moment they enter the doors of his London home, her bag thrown to the floor ( in turn sending the contents scattered across the tiles ) as she storms her way through to the kitchen— a hurricane in Christian Dior. 

[ @absolutetrust​ // because they need this argument ]

He’s not a foolish man. He may act blasé by design on occasion, certainly, but he’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to know Irene is absolutely furious with him after that dinner. The icy silence in the limo was evidence enough. But it isn’t until his mother tongue and his real name leave her lips that Christopher realises he’s really in trouble tonight. He lets her storm off into the kitchen, gives her a few moments before he follows at a more leisurely pace, tugging gently at his tie as he leans in the doorway and watches her.

   Deep breath. 

   “He’s still alive. Don’t know where he is, but he still has a heartbeat on him. That’s all I’m gonna say. Now, Chris, I really need you to leave.”

Indefinite. The word resonates with her. A couple of years ago, it would have left her with a bad taste in her mouth. Too vague, too much commitment— but now… Oh, what on earth had he done to her? “ Well that depends, my love. Are we talking Santorini or Skegness? ” There’s humour in her tone, expression content, at peace as she looks up at him.

Skegness. Dear God. The idea alone of them settling down in a place like that is enough to draw forth a quiet chuckle. “ Hm, yes, very droll. I was thinking of somewhere with a touch more… joie de vivre, if you will. ” 

He reaches out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb following the shell of her ear after. “ We’ll keep our London properties, of course. We’d be mad to give them up. Business ventures, same procedure. Aside from a few minor partnerships I believe we can manage it all from a distance. ” A slow breath, a beat of hesitation. This is his heart of hearts that he is about to reveal to her, one of the last pieces of the puzzle. The magnitude of the moment is not lost on him. 

   “Never learned to keep your nose out of businesses that aren’t yours, huh? It doesn’t concern you. Period. Now, fuck off. I mean it.”

“ Quite contrarily; most would consider the act of  UNDRESSING  the perfect epitome of intimacy. —— You have twenty seconds. ”

She’s the mirror image of him, reclined with decadence in her chaise like she’d just been torn from a Vettriano painting, cigarette balancing between two fingers, ash flicked lazily into the tray on the floor beside her. His comments manage to draw a laugh from between scarlet lips, impossibly melodic in tone and captivating beyond measure.

“ Are you trying to get something from me, Mr Whitmore? Because if you carry on like that, I don’t doubt that you will. ”

“ Now now, darling. You’re making me sound like an opportunistic shark. ”

Which is precisely what just about everyone in Christopher’s line of work is. Investment banking rarely attracts altruistic souls. The playful twinkle in his eyes as he looks at her shows that he himself is well aware of that particular label. And that he doesn’t care a whit.

The sultry tones of Diana Krall’s Night and Day begin to drift through the room, and he raises an eyebrow at her as the corner of his mouth slowly curves up.