02-22-2018, 04:08 AM
She’s running late… again. She got the invitation several weeks ago and had told her assistant to put it in the mandatory section of her schedule. Apparently mandatory doesn’t have any meaning unless it’s work related. The stupid slut had not only double booked her, but double booked her with a diplomat’s luncheon! When flipping through some files she found the invitation again and got that sick feeling turning in the pit of her stomach. Scorch was going to kill her! She presses her hands to her desk, taking a deep breath letting it out before composing herself to call the inept little shit into her office.
Folding her hands in her lap she stares at the door waiting for the girl to walk in. When she does she looks a mess, shaking, glasses crooked, shirt misbuttoned, and her skirt skewed. Hestia can’t decide what is worse the state the girl is in, or the fact that she would even think of coming to work like this could ever be acceptable? She doesn’t say anything though, just sits there piercing the child with her eyes, coldly making her feel as uncomfortable as possible. Why didn’t you tell me I had that BBQ to go to? she’s calm, to calm. The girl fumbles around dropping files, stumbling in her heels, and Hestia loses her patience you’re fired. She picks up her purse heading out the door without a second glance. Getting into the viper, she gives instructions to her driver as to how to get to Scorches house. She begins texting the diplomat’s assistant trying to push the meeting out as far as she can, hoping its enough time to at least be able to spend a few minutes with Scorch.
Can’t you go any faster?! We’re late, the driver looks nervously out the windshield, and Hestia purses her lips. Her annoyance climbing as she remembers that she’s supposed to bring something. We must stop by the store first. Gawd why can’t anything just be simple? The parking lot is packed and the driver has to take her to the doors before driving off to find a spot to wait for her. She starts looking in the fruit section, but nothing catches her eye, then she spots a rose at the end, the same kind that grew on that bush they were so fond of when they were younger. She ghosts a smile at the memory, snatching a bundle of them. Scorch would remember them. She then heads over for the liquor section. What to get, what to get. She waits for something to catch her eye, then she spies a malt whiskey. Checking the proof this time there is a gleeful smile. Exactly what they need!
She scurries back out to find her driver after practically shoving her way through the checkout line. Getting in, she carefully lays the roses down, and the whiskey along side it. Going back to her argument with the assistant. She finally has it worked out when they arrive at the house, turning her phone off she shoves it in the only place a phone can fit on a tight pocketless skirt. Hestia tosses her thick black hair over her shoulder. The unencumbered waves falling sexily around her shoulders. She’s short, thin, pale and has a hella head o’ hair. With sharp green eyes, its not many that can avoid looking at her when she comes into a room. She slips Scorch a kiss on each cheek before handing her the flowers. Grinning Got us something for later, private after party? Catch me up on all you’re madness? Hestia teases her with a peak into her purse at the good stuff she has hidden. No way in hell was one of the children going to sneak this bottle!
She takes the flowers telling Scorch she’ll get them into some water. When reaching the kitchen Cagney is there sneaking some drink, but Hestia pretends not to see. Instead fussing over the arrangement and searching out a vase. I won’t tell, she says in response to the shit comment. When the flowers are done she starts meandering through the house, looking for all the old haunts. She finds her mother’s guitar stuffed away in one of the back rooms along with a photo of her. So beautiful, she smiles in fond memory brushing away the dust. Setting her bag down on the bed. She blinks back the moisture picking up the guitar to sit on the edge of the mattress and begins strumming. Trying to bring it back into tune. So many people she doesn’t know. She came here for Scorch, and she’ll stay for Scorch, but finding this old thing makes listening to all the little mongrels running around worth it.
Folding her hands in her lap she stares at the door waiting for the girl to walk in. When she does she looks a mess, shaking, glasses crooked, shirt misbuttoned, and her skirt skewed. Hestia can’t decide what is worse the state the girl is in, or the fact that she would even think of coming to work like this could ever be acceptable? She doesn’t say anything though, just sits there piercing the child with her eyes, coldly making her feel as uncomfortable as possible. Why didn’t you tell me I had that BBQ to go to? she’s calm, to calm. The girl fumbles around dropping files, stumbling in her heels, and Hestia loses her patience you’re fired. She picks up her purse heading out the door without a second glance. Getting into the viper, she gives instructions to her driver as to how to get to Scorches house. She begins texting the diplomat’s assistant trying to push the meeting out as far as she can, hoping its enough time to at least be able to spend a few minutes with Scorch.
Can’t you go any faster?! We’re late, the driver looks nervously out the windshield, and Hestia purses her lips. Her annoyance climbing as she remembers that she’s supposed to bring something. We must stop by the store first. Gawd why can’t anything just be simple? The parking lot is packed and the driver has to take her to the doors before driving off to find a spot to wait for her. She starts looking in the fruit section, but nothing catches her eye, then she spots a rose at the end, the same kind that grew on that bush they were so fond of when they were younger. She ghosts a smile at the memory, snatching a bundle of them. Scorch would remember them. She then heads over for the liquor section. What to get, what to get. She waits for something to catch her eye, then she spies a malt whiskey. Checking the proof this time there is a gleeful smile. Exactly what they need!
She scurries back out to find her driver after practically shoving her way through the checkout line. Getting in, she carefully lays the roses down, and the whiskey along side it. Going back to her argument with the assistant. She finally has it worked out when they arrive at the house, turning her phone off she shoves it in the only place a phone can fit on a tight pocketless skirt. Hestia tosses her thick black hair over her shoulder. The unencumbered waves falling sexily around her shoulders. She’s short, thin, pale and has a hella head o’ hair. With sharp green eyes, its not many that can avoid looking at her when she comes into a room. She slips Scorch a kiss on each cheek before handing her the flowers. Grinning Got us something for later, private after party? Catch me up on all you’re madness? Hestia teases her with a peak into her purse at the good stuff she has hidden. No way in hell was one of the children going to sneak this bottle!
She takes the flowers telling Scorch she’ll get them into some water. When reaching the kitchen Cagney is there sneaking some drink, but Hestia pretends not to see. Instead fussing over the arrangement and searching out a vase. I won’t tell, she says in response to the shit comment. When the flowers are done she starts meandering through the house, looking for all the old haunts. She finds her mother’s guitar stuffed away in one of the back rooms along with a photo of her. So beautiful, she smiles in fond memory brushing away the dust. Setting her bag down on the bed. She blinks back the moisture picking up the guitar to sit on the edge of the mattress and begins strumming. Trying to bring it back into tune. So many people she doesn’t know. She came here for Scorch, and she’ll stay for Scorch, but finding this old thing makes listening to all the little mongrels running around worth it.
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