Winter our discontent (RP)

"Relax. I don’t name names. I’m not looking to get sued, or lose my seat at their table," she knew better than that "I might borrow the atmosphere. Use some of them as inspiration. There were some very vivid personalities at Claridge."

She smiled faintly when he referred to it as her "little" column. He couldn’t help himself, always chipping away at her accomplishment, no matter how meager they were compared to his. Just like his "advice" not to write about any of his friends: it wasn’t a suggestion. It was an instruction, with that little "’K?" in the end, like she needed help understanding what was expected of her.

She hadn’t missed his lack of enthusiasm over her invitation, either. If she had to guess, it was because Sinclair had invited her personally. That probably put her on equal footing with Henry. She wasn’t his date, or a plus-one. That had to sting. The idea that he wasn’t entirely in control of her anymore. That he didn’t hold the keys to that club.

If only he knew...

These men weren’t just members of the wealthy ruling class. According to Pers, a few of them were actual diabolists. If Henry understood even half of what she suspected, he might stop worrying about her invitation and start wondering how to get out.

But then again... Henry was arrogant enough to believe he could handle anything.

"I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to be doing there" she tried to put him at ease, echoing what she guessed he was thinking. "Or why I was invited at all. I’m just a nobody to them. I didn’t even make interesting conversation that night"

"You should try wearing a dress with a deep cleavage next time. Might help you impress Sinclair." She turned from the window and smiled slyly at him "He definitely has a type."

‘Kat’, who hanged at Sinclair’s side all night, was also a striking blonde, the same age as Emma. And she guessed she too wasn’t invited over to that dinner for her conversation skills either.

It was a tease, but not without purpose. It would be good for Henry to remember that other powerful men, like Sinclair, noticed her too.

"Anyway, if this retreat really is about relaxing and getting to know people, then you should be glad they invited me." She let her voice lighten "I actually know how to let my hair down and have fun"

She couldn't help but giggle at Henry's attempt at humor.
"Honestly? You don't need a dress. Just surround yourself with gorgeous young blondes, and Sinclair will keep sniffing around."

Outside, the taxi turned onto the street leading to Covent Garden, its tires splashing through the deep puddles as they approached the parking garage. "We should hit Joules first. I think they’ll have everything we need" Emma was already thinking about her next shopping spree

Persephone pauses for a moment and then realizes what he is talking about and says, "Well, yes, I saw Rogue One. Though I admit I'm behind on Andor. I just didn't realize you two were on a first name basis." She laughs, trying to cover her mistake. In truth she had seen Rogue One, but only because the guy she was dating at the time wanted to. She stopped caring much about Star Wars after the prequel trilogy, specifically, what Anakin did to the younglings.

She considers responding with a Star Wars reference, but decides against it, and simply says, "Anyway, I'll be in touch, OK? Take care." She ends the call. She stares at Barb's phone number for a time and wonders what the safest way to look it up might be. She could do some internet research... But what if they are monitoring her internet usage? She shrugs and thinks, Eh, if they are monitoring my internet usage, then they definitely were monitoring that call. And honestly, it doesn't take a PhD in psych to know their contractees will likely look into the organization and try to get out of the contract. After all, if there is a loophole win the contract, that's the patron's fault, isn't it? Should they accept that she did not violate the contract? Oh, but what if the contract includes a 'don't look for the contract' clause? Well... how could I know without having consented to that language? Nah. If we're going to pretend this is all just contract law, then we have to allow that I can eventually, somehow, obtain a copy to study.

And with that, she logs on via an encrypted VPN, uses DuckDuckGo, and begins to search for a Barb with that number.

"If Sinclair loves money half as much as he loves blondes, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble keeping his attention," she was still smiling from when he implied she would be a ‘distraction.’

She reached for the door handle while he negotiated with the taxi driver. It really was a great idea, having the car wait for them. No more chasing cabs in the rain or waiting in a chilly parking lot. It was indulgent, but the kind of indulgence she could get used to.

Still, she kept her bags with her. She didn’t trust anyone with her dresses (especially since they worth a hundred times more than what Henry intended to pay to the cabbie to wait). The only place she would leave them was her closet.

Once inside the covered arcades of Covent Garden, with the rain drumming against the glass above them, she led the way straight to Joules. There were no eager assistants here to fawn over them like in Harrods, but she didn’t need them. She was in her element, moving through the store like she owned it: scanning racks, parting hangers, flipping collars. She knew Henry’s measurements by now, and she was going to make sure everything fit like it had been made for him.

"This one!" she reached for a waxed navy field jacket from the rack and held it up to him. "And this!" she handed him a cream-toned wool jumper, to go with the sand colored corduroy she already picked for him earlier. She gave him a little push toward the changing room while he was holding the stack in his hands, already smiling to herself in satisfaction "You try that on, and I’ll go find you some boots in the meantime"

Persephone closes her laptop in frustration. Nothing. I have nothing. Wentworth stonewalled me and their 'help line' is classic corporate strategy; they known nothing and can do nothing and their supervisors are out of reach. I need leverage to gain access.

She sighs heavily and concludes, I ... I'm so doomed. I'll never be able to beat them.

Emma didn’t care if the cabbie was offended or not. That was his problem. Neither him nor Henry could probably imagine what it was like growing up counting every penny, but she could. Her mother would have killed for losing so much as a scarf, let alone a designer dress. You learn to take care of what little you had when you didn’t have much, and that habit didn’t go away just because someone else was footing the bill.

She allowed them to have their little ‘wimin’ moment. Boys would be boys, and she wasn’t going to explain herself to them.

The brown leather boots she picked for him were sitting in a box next to her. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, leaning causally on the bench as she waited for him to step out from the changing room.

"Mm…not bad" she smiled thinly as she looked at him, impressed with her handiwork, and the subject matter. She really could be doing this all day, but she was sure Henry wouldn’t have the patience for trying out five more outfits "Try the boots on"

"Size twelve" she confirmed "But you should still try them on, to make sure you’re comfortable in them" she invited him to sit next to her so he could comfortably pull the boots on "I’m already set for the outdoors, but thank you" He spent enough money on her today, and even though it wouldn’t make any difference to him, she didn’t want him thinking she was only there because she got something out of it, even if it was (mostly) the truth. Besides, real estate was in short supply in her tiny closet. She wasn’t going to waste it on more outdoor gear, when she could fill it with risqué dresses. "there" she said to him once he stood up again and walked a few steps in his new boots "How do they feel?"

"Sure thing!" she crouched in front of the shoe stack and started rummaging through the boxes. After a few flipped lids she finally found a replacement left boot, and handed it over to him with a triumphant smile

"I hope they are not still planning on hiking outside in this weather, especially now that everything moved to London. But best to be prepared, I guess"

Emma was used to men looking, eyes following her a little too long than they should. And truth be told, she didn’t mind. It was flattering, even a little thrilling. It was nice to feel wanted. So while she hasn’t intended to tempt him (this time), she stayed crouching by his side for a few long breaths, letting him look before finally standing up and tugging on her blouse.

"I’ll go grab you a few pairs of extra socks" she pretended as if she hasn’t noticed anything "If we’re hiking in the rain, you’ll want a dry spare"

She didn’t wait for his reply, and just turned and walked toward the shelves again, giving him the minute he clearly needed to calm himself down.