Anne Blythe (annewithane) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2014-09-01 16:52:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, anne shirley (books), jamie moriarity |
Who: Anne Blythe & Jamie Moriarty
When: Monday, September 1, 2014
Where: Anne’s office at the Youth Center
What: The Youth Center still needs a business manager.
Rating: Low
Monday was flying by; between paperwork concerning the influx of money from the variety show, preparing for two days of meetings with the other ESD staff, and the various and sundry little emergencies that popped up at a daycare and youth center, Anne wasn’t certain that she’d been able to take a break all morning. She’d been there since well before they opened, so when she looked up and caught a glance at the clock, it surprised her that it was only ten o’clock. Maybe the day wasn’t flying by as quickly as she thought. She was certain that it must be at least lunch time. Her stomach gave a growl, agreeing with her; that decided it. It was break time, and time to make a round around the youth center. A quick stop in the kitchen earned her a baggie of grapes, and she munched on them as she meandered around, watching the children at play and pausing to speak to a few of them as she made her way back to her office. Anne didn’t return to her paperwork just yet, however, and devoted a good many minutes to daydreaming, her chin perched on the palm of her hand, fingers curled in against her cheek. Every decision that Jamie Moriarty made was one that was carefully calculated, all manners of attack and defense considered before she acted. Often that happened in a split second. But for some decisions she mulled over them, carefully plucking apart every option until she was completely satisfied. Today had come from mulling, weighing options until she came across the solution that would be beneficial to all involved. The youth center was humming with life and those around were hardly paying attention to a lone woman making her way to the office. Blending in here was hardly the most taxing of chores. No one did more than a polite nod of acknowledgement of another human being which was perfectly fine with Jamie. She had no patience for small talk. Smiling gently, she knocked on the open door of Anne’s office, holding up a cup. “I hope you don’t mind the interruption, I did bring a mocha to ask forgiveness for it.” Pulled out of her imagination, it took Anne a moment to be completely there. She fluttered her fingers, dispelling the “castles in Spain” she had been building, and returned Jamie’s smile. “Not at all. I was just… Well. I was daydreaming, but I was going to get back to my work soon, I promise.” She beckoned her visitor in, surprised at her thoughtfulness, but nonetheless pleased. “Thank you, how did you know that I was in desperate need of some chocolate? Grapes just aren’t the same during a mid-morning break.” She accepted the drink and took an appreciative sip. “Can I help you with something?” Jamie gave her a small, conspiratorial wink as she shut the door gently behind herself. “I certainly won’t tell a soul.” Jamie was familiar with Anne’s stories. After all there were so few female role models in books when she was a child, it was almost impossible to avoid her. And there were certainly traits she had admired in Anne, though even as a child Jamie had felt Anne’s ambitions could have been put to better use than they were. Taking her seat across the desk, she got straight to the business at hand. “I was actually hoping that I could help you. The center has found itself with quite a few openings, as of late.” Whether Anne agreed with her or not was unimportant; Anne had discovered new ambitions here in the future, and the possibilities truly excited her. Here was the possibility of doing what she loved, instead of having to choose one over the other. She had loved Gilbert -- she still did -- but needing to put aside the love she had for teaching and influencing young minds had always sat a little ill with her, in her very heart of hearts. Anne put her drink down and away from where her elbow might knock it over, and gave Jamie her whole attention. “We have, yes. Are you interested in one of them?” Even as she spoke, she reached for the paperwork that was necessary for any potential and new employee. “I’m sorry, your face is familiar but I’m afraid that your name is escaping me.” This would be the moment of truth. There was no point to lying about her name, and Jamie really did not feel like it anyway. Right now she wanted to see the honest reaction. After all her little scheme required honesty up front. And it would do her little good if Anne could not abide her. Her smile still pleasantly in place, she held out her hand gracefully to Anne. “Jamie Moriarty.” she said simply, waiting to see the reaction. Anne paused, the last name very familiar to her. The stories had gone into publication only a few years before she and Gilbert married. She had read them eagerly when they were published in Canada, and together she and Gil had enjoyed reading the adventures of the detective during their single year of marriage. Of course, at that point Moriarty hadn’t been introduced. Instead, Anne had read the later stories from the comforts of her New York City apartment, although she hadn’t gotten around to watching the modern adaptations of the novels. Regardless, she regarded Jamie with not a small amount of suspicion. That suspicion, however, didn’t stop her from doing the polite thing and shaking the other woman’s hand. “I see. I’m going to be very blunt. But why should I trust anyone called Moriarty? I am familiar with Conan Doyle’s works, you see.” And that got a small laugh from Jamie. It wasn’t a hurtful one, simply Jamie found the entire situation amusing. “Yes, they’re very popular I’ve heard.” she mused aloud, the smile still very much in place. “Though I have to say I am disappointed that apparently in another life I was a man. Men aren’t nearly as clever, I’ve always thought. At least outside of the rare exception.” She gave a small shrug and leaned back in her chair, hands folded neatly in her lap. “As for trusting me, well, that would be up to you. This is my offer. I’m interested in your opening for business manager. I would say outside of the slight possibility of Pepper Potts I have the best mind for business in this entire city, though honestly I would say the scope is far bigger than a mere city. I’m willing to work within your budget, as well as remain anonymous so that my sordid reputation would no public impact on the center.” It was almost laughable -- it was laughable -- that a person who was, basically, a criminal mastermind wanted to work for the Youth Center. Anne couldn’t deny that Jamie was incredibly qualified for the position. But -- why? She folded her hands on her desk and leaned forward slightly. “But why do you want to work for us? What would be in it for you?” Jamie’s smile curled a little bit more wicked for a moment, but just a moment before it settled back to pleasantly amused with the whole situation. “Oh, mostly spite.” she admitted honestly. “I am a very contrary person. And I have a mind when someone says I can’t do something that I simply must.” The smug satisfaction at the incredulity of Watson and Holmes would be infinitely satisfying. Still after a moment she looked away from Anne, observing the small details of the office. “I have a daughter, you know.” she remarked off hand. “And I have always tried to do what was best for her, even if I was not the best for her.” And truly Jamie wasn’t, she had no material in her to be a mother. But that did not mean she did not care, that she did not love. She simply acknowledged the practical reality of their situation. Love marked by delusion served no one. Anne sighed. So this was, essentially, a lark, to do something that someone had told her she couldn’t or shouldn’t do. She didn’t like that; the children deserved better. In the next few moments, however, Jamie saved herself from being dismissed out of hand. “I’m sorry that you aren’t able to be with your daughter. That is a hell no one should be forced to endure.” The truth was, no one had jumped at the chance to take on the exciting world of running the business affairs and money of a business that catered to children. Anne and Mary Margaret could certainly manage, but there were only so many hours in a day and days in a week, and they both deserved to have a life outside of the Youth Center. She sighed again, and pushed the packet of application papers towards Jamie. “Can you fill these out now? I’ll return very shortly.” “I’ve always found the true hell not being separated, but in failing to provide.” Jamie held no romantic notions of mothering her child as a traditional mother. But she had always provided for Kayden, for anything she could have ever hoped for. She had picked parents that would provide the loving environment that Jamie simply was not capable of. And Jamie had made sure that all matters were taken care of so that loving environment could stay in place. But her plan had worked. The callousness of her original remarks had to exist, her history gave no other impression. Letting out the small bit of softness, the smallest secret that was already known to the world now thanks to the show, that secured what she wanted. “Excellent.” she reached out and took the papers readily. |