[marchesi] primum negotium // marisa

"I don't think you need a suit for that," Reed leaned closer to her as she met his gaze, whispering with a smile, "You happen to be flirting with me again." He teased her, hoping to bring some of that blush back to her cheeks and then chuckling as he sat back in his seat. She'd passed him some whiskey — exactly his brand, exactly when he had wanted it — and Reed held the glass up in silent thanks before taking a sip.

Marisa filled in the tie with a bit of red, and he nodded, his eyes still on her. "Perfection." Reed set his glass down on the table, finally turning from her to inspect the drawings one last time. He didn't ask what sort of enchantments she would weave into the suit; he didn't need to. The wizard was confident she would place only the best charms and that (unlike her counterparts) Marisa wouldn't bother with frivolous or obnoxious spells she knew he wouldn't like, not even for this suit. Reed valued that efficiency, that skill.

Checking his watch, Reed wondered if she knew what time it was. He was fifteen minutes past his technically allotted appointment window, but he always booked the last slot of the day for this reason. He didn't want to feel rushed, and he wanted Marisa's full attention. Reed was as selfish as he was stubborn. "When should I return for a fitting?"

Marisa glanced down and scooted back in her chair a little, smoothing out a non-existent wrinkle as she tried to stop her cheeks from turning pink. "No, I'm not," she countered, her voice quiet but a little musical as usual. "It's just the truth," she insisted but she didn't want to examine his observation too closely. She didn't really want it to be true. She didn't want to admit to it because it would be that much harder to face, just one more thing she couldn't have.

She nodded again as he was quick and decisive, as usual and she stacked her sketches neatly one on top of the other, her quills on top and set on the edge of the table to bring back to her workroom once he was gone. Speaking of, she saw him glance at his watch and she wondered idly where he had to be next that he was paying so close attention to the time.

"Two days before the gala should be fine, I don't think we'll need to make many adjustments," she said confidently, knowing that her work on his suits were almost always without needing fixes, but she always liked to double check. Marisa swept gracefully back up to the console table at the same of the room where her gold-lined appointment book sat, a white feathered quill hovering lightly over the pages. "I'll owl you to confirm the date and time?" she asked, knowing he'd probably need to check his calendar. "I should have the Oxford done by tomorrow," A rush job by all means but Reed was one of their best clients so of course his requests went right to the top of the pile. "I'll have it delivered by the weekend," she added, gazing over at him, feeling the tiredness behind her eyes after a long day of work.

She eyed his glass. Maybe she just might have some herself, it was her favorite brand too, after he left of course.

Finishing his whiskey as she began to tuck the parchment back into her binder, Reed was respectful enough to stand up as she did. He pushed in his chair and hers before following her over to the golden appointment book. Two days before the gala was some time from now, but Reed's schedule was constantly in flux. He was consistently trying to improve, but in his line of work, he had to be flexible. Sometimes there was a rush on paperwork; sometimes, a warlord decided to blow out his entire stock of gaboon viper scales. The ministry official had to be ready for anything. Reed had been appointed an assistant or two through the years, but they never lasted very long. Besides, Reed preferred to keep his own schedule. Easier to keep specific details out of the official Ministry records that way. 

"That is acceptable," He confirmed, buttoning his suit jacket as she mentioned the Oxford he'd requested in black. "Ship it to the office, I will be out of town for the next week, and I don't want it sitting on the porch." Reed thought to tell her about his next trip, just to see that beautiful wanderlust back her eyes but thought better of it. It was better no one knew about his upcoming trip to Lebanon.

Levitating his outer cloak to him, it made a soft whooshing sound as it unhooked from the hook by the door and landed in his arms. It was raining again, so he dropped the cloak over his shoulders neatly. "Have a good night Marisa." He bid the tailoress farewell before stepping out into the rain, little water droplets repelled by the magic weaved into the fabric and disappeared into the night.

[/end]

She glanced over her shoulder at him as she heard the soft scrape of the chairs against the hardwood floor and watched as he politely pushed in the chairs. What a gentleman. It made her smile a little. Covered in tattoos, did who knows what at the Ministry, coming from a family with such a reputation and yet he was thoughtful enough to push in chairs. The juxtaposition intrigued her as usual, but she refocused on the appointment book so she wouldn't betray her thoughts.

Marisa nodded, making a light note in the book that would serve as a reminder to firm up the appointment with him and then grabbed a square note card, its creamy white parchment was thick beneath her fingers, and in her elegant cursive writing, she wrote a note for delivery to the office. "Of course," she answered, almost wanting to apologize at the horror of having his suit hang out on the porch. She would be speaking to Carlotta about that. Marisa knew it had to be in his file not to send anything home, given his travel schedule. This was exactly why she felt the need to double check everything.

She walked him the few steps to the door and gave him a small smile in goodbye before she watched him slip into the rain and mist, her eyes tracing his silhouette until he disappeared into the darkness. As soon as she knew he was gone for good, she exhaled a heavy breath, some of the tension leaving her shoulders as she wandered back to the table, putting out the cigar with a frown, and then picking up his glass and sipping at the rest of the whiskey.

It was late, but she seemed too keyed to return home just yet. Perhaps she would get started cutting the guide for the new Ares-inspired suit for the gala. She already had ideas on how to make him impress even Moreta.

/end