pups_dt (pups_dt) wrote in morningstar_mnr, @ 2010-09-05 23:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | avery, jazz, npc |
The Auberge, Evening, Avery, Jazz, and NPC Olly
This whole thing had been her idea, and Jazz didn’t regret it. She wanted her family, as small and unofficial as it was, to know Tom and she wanted Tom to know them. He and they, all of them, were important to her - they all needed to know each other and know they were big parts of her life.
But that didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous - or stupid.
She’d told Olly enough about Tom for the going on; name, age, the usual important details. The rest she kept to herself as much because it wasn’t anyone’s business other than her’s and Tom’s as because she didn’t want Olly prejudiced. The past was the past, they should all start fresh here as they were now.
Wasn’t that what she was always telling Tom?
Of course, Tom knew what Olly had been, he’d guessed even before Jazz had told him, and Olly knew what Tom was like. Cleo had kept him up to speed, he’d said, especially after her mugging last year. He’d wanted to know about the man who’d rushed in to be there for her when her family couldn’t.
She liked to think that gave Tom points in Olly’s eyes, but by the cool, distant expression on his face (and too controlled way he was tapping his lighter against the table, turning it over and over between his forefinger and thumb) she honestly wasn’t sure.
“Try,” she said again, in soft Spanish, glancing again at the clock above the Auberge’s serving bar. “For me. Please.”
Olly tipped his head, the clicking of the lighter against the tabletop stopping for a moment as he paused, to shoot her a look. “I will if he does.”
Jazz blew a breath out her nose and sipped her coffee so she wouldn’t have to reply, turning to look out the window again, scanning the traffic outside for a familiar face or car.
Soon enough, and not more then a few minutes late, the sleek and well-groomed form of Thomas Avery appeared outside the Auberge window. He was wearing a silvery grey suit with a black shirt and shimmering, stylish blue tie. As always, his hair was neatly done, and he was wearing black sunglasses when he stopped outside to finish and finally put out his cigarette. At least he looked perfectly like himself - a little pompous, very wealthy and dressing extremely well.
Olly didn’t have to ask, the way Jazz suddenly straightened a little in her seat, a relieved looking smile appearing around her mouth, told him enough to make an educated guess. He shifted out of his relaxed slouch, sitting up as well, and turned his attention to the door. He wondered if the man would match the image he already had in his mind.
Thomas pulled the door open and as he stepped in, he took the sun glasses off with one flick of his wrist. He folded them and put them away just as he spotted Jazz - and the man she was with. He had imagined all sorts of things about Olly, but he was still a little startled to see the man there. For an instant he felt like taking Jazz the hell away from him, since to him he looked like, well, a Mexican gangster, the sort that carries rifles under their jackets.
But he had promised to meet Olly, who was apparently very important to his dear bonita. So he walked to their table in complete control. He touched Jazz’s shoulder and first bent to plant a kiss on her hair line as a hello
“Estrella,” he murmured, but kept it all far from too affectionate to be awkward. Then he looked up at Olly, and extended his right hand to him.
“You must be... Olly,” he said. It was odd to call the man that, since Olly sounded like a name for someone plump and jolly and a little giggly. “I have heard a lot about you.”
Jazz touched the hand at her shoulder, fingers wrapping around his - though whether to comfort or be comforted she wasn’t sure, and shifted her expectant look from up at Tom to over at Olly; who, for his part, stood (it was probably dumb to hope neither of them would notice the scant inches Olly had on Tom, but she did anyway) and met Tom’s hand with his own.
“Si,” he replied, pleasant enough as far as Jazz could tell in that rumbled voice of his. “Last time I checked, anyways. It’s good to finally meet, Senor Avery.” It was the polite thing to say, Jazz couldn’t fault him for that, but the way he stared at Tom, dark eyes steady, it reminded her less of happiness and more of study. Carefully detailing something in your mind so you’d always be able to know it.
Probably just her imagination though, nerves.
Jazz let loose a breath and simultaneously gave Tom a squeeze and nodded at Olly. “Come on, you two, sit down. I’m starting to feel all disadvantaged and left out with you towering about.”
“Indeed, it is an honour,” Thomas nodded as an answer to Olly. When Jazz urged them to sit down, he waited for half a second longer to sit down than Olly, as a polite manner to let him get seated first.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to meet you earlier than this, but perhaps Estrella has explained to you that I have been busy at work. Some of the waiters are down with the flu so the rest of us...” he sighed and shrugged.
There was the briefest glances from Olly to Jazz; a raised eyebrow on his part, a bland look on hers. Olly wasn’t sure he’d never known anyone to call her ‘Estrella’ before, it felt to odd to hear it. Then he returned to his attention to Tom and nodded again.
“She said, yes. But I also haven’t been in town very long - so blame for both.”
“Ah. And how long do you plan on staying?” Thomas asked glancing at Jazz and back at Olly, hoping she wouldn’t kick him and say she had already told him, but decided to prove that he did listen to her most of the time. “I understand Cleo had her 21st birthday recently so I would imagine she is thrilled to have you here.”
Olly smiled at that - or at least what passed for a smile on his heavily worn and lined face. “She was surprised, I think.” He made a sound like stones rubbing together - a chuckle. “Just a little.”
Jazz filled in for him, turning her head toward Tom, a little lilt to her lips. “We didn’t tell Cleo he was coming. She thought just she and I were going out to dinner, then Olly jumped out and surprised her. She was...unsuspecting.” To put it lightly.
“Ah,” Thomas said on a stiff tone, letting on an arrogant air as he imagined how loudly excited the girl must have been, and was glad he had not been there. “I can only imagine.”
Jazz, used to the tone, just shook her head, amused, and sipped her coffee. Olly though got that studying look back. “Children, we do much to see them happy. I have a week here, but I don’t think I’ll be able to repeat how well I did with the first surprise.”
Jazz butted in, she wasn’t sure if Olly meant that as a reprimand or not, but she didn’t want to give Tom extra time to think about it just in case. “Something to drink, Tom? Eat? I know you just got off work.”
A coded way of thanking him again - she recognized he’d been busy and was probably tired and didn’t really want to do this but was because she asked and he did want her to be happy and that meant a lot to her - she hoped he’d recognize it.
Not that she’d ever try to blackmail him into thinking about something before he said it like that. Of course not.
“Actually I do feel like a cup of strong coffee would do good,” Thomas answered and looked at both Olly and Jazz with his eyebrows up, while he was getting his wallet out. “Can I get you something?”
“I got it,” Jazz said, touching his arm lightly to encourage him to put his wallet away and moving to stand while Olly shook his head.
“No,” he tipped his hand, making a little pushing gesture. “Gracias.”
It was difficult for Thomas to let Jazz offer him anything, but after a moment of hesitation, he put the wallet away. “Alright. Double espresso please,” he said, grumbling a little.
When Jazz moved away, Thomas looked after her until she was out of hearing range.
“I hate it when she does that,” he admitted to Olly. “But I suppose she needs to feel somehow equal and independent, so I let her.”
Olly watched Thomas, dark eyes unblinking.
“You don’t see her as an equal?” The censure wasn’t firm in his tone, it was a question. Olly was giving the other man a chance to explain in case he’d misunderstood the statement.
Thomas made a dry, humorless chuckle. “I’m fully aware that you would try to find all sorts of faults in me, even by twisting my words, but what I meant was... she’s more than an equal. I would provide for her all the way, if she but let me.”
Olly said nothing for a moment, then he snorted and nodded. Impressed in spite of himself.
“Misunderstanding, not twisting. And it was good that I did – now you have explained and I can in good humor say, ‘good answer.’”
Thomas had not realized that he was interested in any kind of approval for himself, but hearing that made him feel slightly relieved. At least it would make Jazz happy to find that the meeting was not a complete train wreck so far.
He made a lop-sided smile and nodded his head. “I wouldn’t have thought anyone but a very reasonable man could have helped make Estrella into what she is.”
From the counter, Jazz watched anxiously as she waited for Tom’s espresso. It - looked - like everything was actually, maybe, going okay. No raised voices yet, no dirty looks...in fact that looked like a smile on Tom’s face.
“I haven’t known her to be stupid,” Olly told Thomas. “And she proves to be a decent judge of character. So, even I don’t see the thinking yet, I offer the benefit of the doubt and am willing to learn.”
“Excellent,” Thomas commented, and shifted on his seat to a more comfortable position. He felt himself loosening up a little - even if Olly did give him the creeps, he wasn’t as bad as he had thought. “What are you planning on doing on your stay in the City?”
“I’m not sure yet. I think the girls will have plans, especially Cleo. But otherwise....” he trailed off with unconcerned shrug as Jazz appeared just behind Tom’s shoulder, a steaming cup in one hand.
She set it down carefully and returned to her seat, looking between the men carefully. “Enjoying yourselves?”
“Doing alright,” Thomas said shrugging and glancing at Olly. “Thank you,” he then said turning his eyes to Jazz, and took the coffee cup into his hands.
Jazz visibly relaxed some and smiled lightly.
“So, Thomas, Jazz tells me you are a man who enjoys games of chance?” Olly’s eyebrows had lifted, just a fraction, in interest.
“I suppose I can’t deny that - I dabble at stock markets and I do enjoy casinos every now and then,” Thomas said, understating his hobby a little.
“Any good?” Olly pressed.
Jazz shifted, sensing where this was heading, and found herself torn between warning him off (though which him she couldn’t quite put her finger on) and finding a way to instigate them for her own amusement.
“I suppose I’m still on the plus side,” Thomas said casually, but the way he was leaning forward now indicated he was getting curious. “You sound like you have something on your mind, Olly.”
“Maybe there is time for a friendly game while I’m here,” Olly replied casually, the grin slow and deliberate in forming. “If you have time and are willing.”
If you’re man enough, the subtitles Jazz imagined floating just underneath Olly’s chin read. Her lips twitched and shot Tom a sideways look. Her own subtitles would say, Are you gonna let him talk to you like that?
Thomas couldn’t say no to anything like that. He had to impress Jazz’s father figure, and his own masculinity and pride would suffer a bad hit if he did not take up the offer.
“I’m sure there is,” Thomas nodded. “What kind of a game? There is a small casino in the City.”
“You are the local,” Olly shrugged. “You can choose...but I wouldn’t say no to a good game of poker.”
“Excellent,” Thomas said, and his face lit up like a small boy’s who hears he gets to go to the candy store. “If Estrella lets us go for an evening, I will gladly show you the casino.”
Jazz shook her head, lips curving. “It’s alright with me.” She looked between them. “Can I come though?” She wanted that memory for posterity, on tape if possible. And not just because it promised to be entertaining as hell - they were getting along!
“I see no reason why you couldn’t, especially if you dress up like a proper Bond girl. I can even order a martini, if it amuses you,” Thomas said with a lop-sided grin at Jazz, not minding if Olly did not right away follow their sense of humor.
“Shaken,” she advised with a grin, sitting up a little straighter with excitement in her chair. “Not stirred. Two olives.”
“I’ve lost my lucky charm, didn’t I?” Olly sighed from across the table.
“We’ll see at the poker table, won’t we,” Thomas said with a brief, cheeky grin that showed he was actually really looking forward to it.
Jazz laughed. “Luck’s got nothing to do with it,” she told Tom. “He cheats. He used to have me help him.’” She mimed holding a hand of cards and gasped breathlessly, “‘Oh my, senor, are they supposed to all go in order like that?”
Olly, for his part, looked remarkably above it all - unperturbed that Jazz had outed him as a cheater.
“You do?” Thomas lifted his eyebrows and leaned back again with an amused smile. “I will have an eye on you senor. Thank goodness for the bonita here or you could have robbed me blind!”
Olly wagged a finger warningly, a sly look in his dark eyes. “Ah - I still might. We will have to wait and see how the cards fall.”
Jazz smirked and elbowed Tom gently, “I won’t help you cheat either. I’m just gonna be there to watch and provide a suitable amount of high-roller arm-candy.”
“And be the cheater alert?” Thomas asked with a glance at Olly.
“For both of you,” she promised with a nod. “That’ll be fair, I think.”
“Excellent,” Thomas said with a firm, approving nod. “How about Thursday? I have the whole day off from the restaurant.”
Olly shrugged, looking at Jazz. “I have no plans.”
Jazz looked thoughtful for a moment, apparently consulting an internal calendar, then nodded too. “Nothing that I know of - sounds good to me,” she grinned.
“So it’s settled. Be sure to stash away money for a return ticket or else you’ll find you need to stay here longer than you had planned,” Thomas sniped pleasantly at Olly.
Olly wagged a finger at him. “Mind your tongue, or you may find yourself feeling very silly when I’m flying home first class on your dime.”
Jazz wondered he didn’t stick his tongue at him too as she snorted back a laugh. She couldn’t in good conscience pick one side or other, so she’d do her best to be neutral. And she was gonna love every minute of it.
“Easy boys,” she drawled, voice high with amusement. “You’re both pretty.”
Thomas was certain he was a lot prettier than Olly, but he bit his lip especially as the meeting had gotten him on a surprisingly pleasant mood, and he found himself really looking forward to the poker match.