Morningstar Manor

( Emily )

*

( Avery )

*

( Susan )

*

( Laura )

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?
( Read more... )

For some twenty odd minutes now, Jazz had been sitting at one of the Mocha's garden tables, soaking up the sun while she click-clacked away on her laptop and chattered into her cellphone in rapid fire Spanish. Now, finally, she paused and told the phone, "Sí,sí - te amo también." She listened for a moment, then laughed. "Entonces véale."

She hung up, sliding her phone onto the table top and starting typing away on her laptop again, looking quite pleased with herself.

Thomas, wearing a grey suit with a dark blue tie, sat in the Mocha with a coffee cup and the newest issue of the Forbes magazine.

Emily parked the bright red Vespa in the garage, in its own spot. She took a few steps back while she took off her helmet, and admired the sparkling clean paint finish, straight from a thorough wash.

Susan was plotting murder. She didn't know who she had to blame for getting the task of polishing every single brass decoration in the ball room and the staircases, but while she was hard at work, she entertained herself with the vivid, imaginative pictures in her head.

Lucas was putting his cooking skills to good use in helping Jazz with a surprise for his uncle. It was his 37th birthday afterall, and while Thomas was at a meeting in La Fee Verte, Jazz had asked Lucas to help her surprise him.

Finally everything ready food-wise, Lucas washed his hands and took a look at the clock in the small screen of the microwave oven.

"Jazz? You cool now?" he called out to the next room. "I really don't want to be here to witness whatever you and Thomas do on a special day - eewww - so I think I'm gonna get my stuff and go. And don't worry, I won't be here until tomorrow afternoon."
( Read more... )

Summary: It's Avery's birthday and Lucas and Jazz decide celebrations are in order whether Tom likes it or not. Lucas handles the cooking, asks Jazz for some relationship advice and then scoots so Jazz and Avery can discuss cake, gifts, and job opportunities. Faded to black before the smut gets out of hand. :)

Okay, it's late - and last minute - I suck, but it's not entirely my fault. Some horribly charming man got me all distracted and I completely forgot. I'm going to be out this week - a work, training seminar thing in Virgina. Nothing bad, don't worry, and it's only for this week...so try not to get too wild and crazy, huh?

There was a noise like a kiss being blown and then a soft laugh.

I love you. See you soon.

A productive trip into the village had Jazz returning to the villa with a bounce in her step and a whistle on her lips.

When she found Tom, she slipped up to nibble on one of his ears, arms coming around to present the photo packet she had clutched in one hand. "If any of those there at the bottom end up on the internet," she rested her chin on his shoulder, amused, "I will make you pay."

She wasn't sure how exactly he'd managed to snap photos of her playing in the surf as carefree and bare-assed as the day she'd been born without her knowledge, but figured that was reason enough to have them printed for him.

Cleverness aught to be rewarded, no?

The Cadillac had been waiting for them at the tiny airport, after some 20-30 minutes drive they finally arrived to the luxurious and secluded resort. The main house where all the services were was surrounded by a lush, exotic jungle park-like forest where a handful of large, exclusive villas were scattered a walking distance away from each other to give privacy. They could hear the distant, soft waves at the white sandy beach over the trees, and the sun was setting into the ocean, but it was still warm enough not to wear a thing.

A neatly groomed and well-dressed receptionist walked outside to meet them just as Thomas parked the car.

"Here we are. As far as I understand, our villa is only a short way ahead from here," Thomas said and got up from the car. "All we need now are keys and dinner."

Thomas was enjoying his summer holiday - or rather suffering. He had started the month-long holiday with a wine tasting with some of his colleagues, friends and contacts, and had only come back home on Friday morning. Having slept for a while, he was now looking very pale in the Mocha, nursing a cup of coffee.

*

Emily was definitely enjoying her summer holiday. She had decided to do absolutely nothing, except perhaps eat well, drink well, read something, sun bathe and, if she had the chance, flirt shamelessly with Vincenzo. Now she was in the gardens, sitting near the Angel statue and eating strawberries. She had a novel with her, but she wasn't reading it but actually just lazily people watching.

*

Susan was in the laundry room, longing to have a holiday or at least some time off. It was Rosa's day off, so she was in the laundry shift, and bored out of her mind.

Only a handful of chefs and a couple of waiters remained in the restaurant. It was already almost 3AM, but finally the thorough cleaning of the restaurant was finished. Everyone was tired, and especially the chefs were sweaty, dirty and a little cranky.

Emily let the others go, but she stayed back to check every oven, fridge, freezer, and double and triple checked that the gas was definitely turned off.

"Are you going to stay the night here, or what?" asked Thomas Avery, who leaned against the door frame, and held his black suit jacket hanging over his shoulder.

"No, no, I'm almost done," Emily answered, opened the oven doors, and took a final glance around. "Alright. Let's go."

( La Fee Verte closes for July )

Black suit, black shoes, dark blue shirt, no tie, hair done, chin shaved. The watch, cuff links and one golden ring were there to remind of wealth and status. He had no flowers, but he had something a lot better in his breast pocket for her.

Thomas Avery knocked on the door of apartment 229, then glanced at his watch to check if he was on time. Well, a few minutes here and there...

Tom was a man of style and good taste, so Jazz wasn't inherently concerned when it came to entrusting him with her wardrobe. She was 99% certain that even if he did manage to pick up something truly horrible it would likely be only because he wanted to see her squirm. Still, she took it as a good sign when he picked NOIR as the shop of choice.

He'd been listening - or checking her labels. As a bonus, Jazz was fairly certain, being that she was a regular customer, that not only Rhiannon but her staff also were aware of her preferences and could be counted on to steer Tom in the right direction if he did somehow get off track.

Pleased and smiling happily, Jazz followed obediently into the store and turned to Tom with an expectant, vaguely smug, look. No, she couldn't even pretend she wasn't going to enjoy this.

"Lead the way, Sénor," she batted her eyes prettily, "I'm at your service."

Late in the evening, Jazz's phone beeped as it received a message from Thomas.

Gorgeous morning shifts! That's why we're going shopping on Friday and dancing on Saturday. Any objections?

Tonight was the last night. By the time the sun peeked over the horizon the circo would be all all but gone, the rides and tents dismantled, the people retreating to their trucks and trailers. They would be back, but when? Or where? No one could say for sure. For Jazz, it was truly an end. All the confusion, the uncertainty, the things she couldn't explain - it had somehow led her to this moment. They wouldn't notice her missing, not until it was too late. They'd be miles away, setting up in some new place, and she'd be here. Right here.

In the dark she hurried. Luck had helped her in finding that women's shelter, she hoped luck now would help her getting back to it without trouble. In one pocket she fingered the slick cellphone. A talisman...and a promise. A promise that she'd make this work somehow. Idly she wondered if out there, somewhere, right now her sister - sister! - was thinking of her.

I'll find her, she told herself. On the tail of that, came the image of him in her mind. Thomas Avery. He was, really, the reason for all this. His insistence, the way he'd looked at her before they'd parted....

She paused at a crosswalk, checking for traffic even as she smirked lightly. She rather hoped he'd think of her, even if he'd never admit it. He was far too proud, too...superior to admit to something like that about likes of her.

The clock atop a nearby church began to chime the hour, the bell breaking the night with it's deep, lonely tones. She found herself shivering, as she listened. She'd never liked that noise, so dark and sad. It made her want to go home and find people to keep her company, remind her she was alive.

She turned, deciding to do just that and....stopped. Right there in the middle of the street. A car screeched to a halt, almost clipping her, but she didn't seem to see it. She didn't seem to see anything, she was lost...lost....The cab laid on the horn and Jazz jerked, suddenly back.

Back - from where?
( Read more... )

Jazz slipped out the backside of the tent, pausing a moment to button her shorts, before moving through the shadows along the overhang toward the front.

Already the hawker was back to work, Belinda now, older than Jazz and a redhead, as the tease at his side. Jazz leaned, pushing up onto her tip-toes as she tried to try to see over and around all the bodies gathering, fearing for a moment she'd lost him in the crowd - but no, there he was. Over by himself, looking so out of place.

He doesn't belong here.

Quietly she slipped toward him.

She got close enough to speak, hesitated, then said, "You could have smoked inside. No one would have cared."

It had been no trouble for him to get a new cell phone, but even Thomas Avery couldn't get new cards or a driver's licence overnight. He relied on cabs to get around until he got his licence back or a new one instead, but short distances he could walk especially when the weather was nice. He lit a cigarette as he walked by the Vine Square to the kiosk on the other side to buy smokes and the paper before heading home.

He had made a police report about the theft, but something about it didn't sit right with him. There was something about that woman that kept haunting in his mind, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Deep in thought he walked in a dark, sharp suit, this time with another designer watch in his wrist since the Armani one was taken.

Setup had finished not long after after the departure of the City's pride in blue and the gates had swung open to accommodate eager folk promptly at 9 a.m. The roar of mechanical beasts filled the air, punctuated by the excited screams of happy patrons. Game vendors barked across the midway, each vying for the attention, and open wallets, of the crowd. The scents of frying dough and candy floss hung heavy on the breeze.

The first day was always the busiest, when all the attractions were still fresh and exciting to the minds and spirits of the locals, and the residents of the circo were out in force to make the most of it.

All except one.

Estrella Gonzalez, a night performer by trade, was enjoying her afternoon far from the sights and sounds of the circo. The little square was just as lovely as she remembered from their last tour, the little ice cream shop still open - the owner still just as susceptible to charm and flattery.

Polishing off the last of her complimentary ice cream she lounged beneath the statue in the park in a deep, comfortable slouch. Half her brain dozed, perfectly relaxed, completely at ease with everything she was enjoying here and now...The other half monitored the people going about their business around her, watching, wanting to be prepared if anyone should happen along who could make her afternoon even more profitable.

Emily patted across the lobby to the Mocha, wearing a knee-lenght skirt fluttering around her knees, and a comfortable, loose white top. She had spent the afternoon after work preparing things for Saturday's barbecue, like she had promised to Adam, but now felt the need for coffee and company. So she joined the queue by the counter, and looked around for familiar faces.

*

The elevator said "ding!", and when the doors slid open, out hopped Thomas Avery still sporting a moustache, wearing a Lacoste polo shirt and white trousers. Although the right leg of the trousers was rolled up to give room for the cast still covering his leg. With the support of crutches he moved slowly to the mail room to check the box. He had been stuck with the casts for too long now, so he was taking every opportunity to get out of the house until the cast would be taken off the following week.

He had never had to use crutches before, but Thomas got the hang of it quickly. He had plenty of motivation to learn it anyway - he had suffered three weeks of having both his arm and leg in cast, as a prisoner of a wheelchair and his own apartment. Now the cast on his fully healed arm was finally taken off, and he could hop around for the remainder of the time with the broken leg with crutches. At least now he could get around on his own.

Thomas rolled down the sleeve of his shirt to hide the terribly dried and withered skin of his right arm, thanked the nurse and stood up. It wasn't easy with his leg in a cast, but soon he made his way out one hop at a time with the crutches, back to the waiting room of the hospital.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, Jazz had so throughly forgotten about the leave Spencer had granted her that not only did she force herself out of bed at the unpleasant hour of six a.m. for work, but she actually made it halfway to the store before remembering!

Frustrated with herself for being, in her mind, late, she turned up at Tom's with a coffee carrier in one hand and a take-out bag of muffins from the Mocha in the other, her usual messenger bag draped over her shoulder. She figured her forgetfulness could be forgiven with a nice brunch bribe.

The fact that she'd also forgotten to mention to Tom that she was even supposed to be on leave didn't occur to her.