Violet rapped the empty can on the metal arm of the bench she sat on. Empty. She bent down to fumble with the contents of her purse that sat on the ground beneath her feet, her skirt inching up her thighs with the movement. She wasn't dressed casually- a jean miniskirt, racy halter top, and patent black heels being her ensemble of the day, but she rarely dressed like any normal girl her age would anymore. That wasn't who she was, or what she had become.
She groaned, rubbing her mascara-smudged eyes with one hand as the other closed around the neck of the small bottle she was looking for. Quickly she lowered the empty can that at one time had been filled with some kind of energy drink, though it served a different purpose now, into her purse so that it was out of sight and poured the clear alcohol from the bottle into it. She let it fill about halfway before screwing the top back onto the vodka. Thank the lord oversized bags were in style. If she had been carrying a micro-handbag, the transaction would have been impossible.
Violet, straightened, not realizing in her haste that one of her arms had been looped into one of the bag's straps. The bag overturned, spilling its contents onto the sidewalk before Violet could right it.
"Shit shit shit," she hissed, hopping from the bench onto her knees. Of course this had to happen in broad daylight on the busiest street in the district. Of course. She just had to have her sunshine, didn't she?
She began hurriedly scooping the items, some embarrassing, some potentially incriminating back into her bag. A box of cigarettes here, a few tampons there. The vodka eluded her reach however, and before she could stretch out to grab it, she found that there was a pair of feet standing in her mess.
"Shit. Sorry," she said, running a hand through her hair distractedly, before gazing up at the figure.
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Robert Archer hurriedly walked as quickly as possible, he had received a phone call from his secretary regardign an urgent matter and didn't wish to be late. He had barely glanced down at his watch when a bottle bumped into the tip of reddish-brown italian shoes. He cocked a brown when he saw the top of the culprits head, a vibrant shade of violet, long and shiny.
He crossed his arms when her heard her spew such vulgar language and humored himself for a few seconds before she finally lifted her gaze. Green eyes met and her husky voice struck him still. "Sorry is overrated Miss...?"
He left it open in the air whether or not she would offer her name. If she didn't willingly tell him, eventually he'd find out. She didn't look like the typical anonymous citizen.
Violet froze when her brain registered who it was she was looking at. Though she couldn't remember his name, she knew this was the man Alexia was always whispering about, the one who visited her all the time. He was powerful, rich, not to mention intimidating, but Violet tried to keep her features neutral as she held his gaze as she debated whether it was smarter to answer him or run.
"...Ashman," she answered reluctantly, pushing the rest of her belongings back into her purse, "'Scuse me."
The vodka had rolled to a stop just behind the man, and she quickly scooted forward and shot out a hand to retrieve it. The movement lacked class, seeing as she had to maneuver around his knees to get the bottle, but as long as he didn't figure out what it was, she couldn't have cared less. When her hands clasped around it, she chucked it back into her purse, and stood up, slinging the back over her arm.
"You're that guy, aren't you? The one Alexia talks about," Violet searched his eyes with hers after looking him over. His name was on the tip of her tongue, but for the life of her she couldn't spit it out.
It didn't occur to her that it was quite possible that since he was such a successful man, he might have something better to do than stand around and answer her questions.
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Alexia...Miss Ashman had just reminded him of a certain individual he had momentarily forgotten about while he was busy staring at her gams. He shrugged his broad shoulders and noticed the tip of her bottle sticking out of her oversized bag. He used his pointer finger to push it inside, hidden from anyones eyes and gave her a charming half smile, amused as hell. Whatever his secretary had to speak to him about could wait, this was going to be the highlight of his dreary morning.
"The names Archer, Miss Ashman. Robert Archer," he said and took a step closer to her. He gazed down at her small frame and raised his brow before getting close to her face and whispered, "If you're tring to hide anything miss, its good to pop in a breathmint every now and then to cover the scent of pure vodka."
He pulled back and licked his lower lip while still staring her down. He was eager to find out what the vixen was about to do. Would she yell at him, hit him, come on to him? Whatever it was, he was definetely interested in finding out.
Her lips pursed, and she fought against the urge to smirk as he pushed the vodka out of sight, "Thanks."
The last thing she needed was to get busted by some nosy cop just because a suspicious looking bottle was sticking out of her purse. They all knew she wasn't 21, though she wasn't the 18-year-old she claimed to be either, but it didn't matter whether or not she could pass for 18- she still wasn't legally old enough to drink. Outside of The Shady Lady that was, anyways. Vinnie couldn't care less what they didn't as long as they didn't get caught.
"Nice to meet you Mr. Archer..." she said, her tone slightly mocking. She didn't flinch as he drew closer, but raised her eyebrows curiously.
"If you're tring to hide anything miss, its good to pop in a breathmint every now and then to cover the scent of pure vodka."
At this she broke into a smug grin, and pulled a cigarette out of her purse, popping it into her mouth, "Thanks for the tip, but I think I've got it covered."
With the help of a small, silver lighter, Violet lit it, and drew in a breath, "So what is it you do anyways?" She put a hand on her hip and cocked her head at him, waiting for an answer.
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Robert thought for a second before realizing that she would no the basics since Alexia would have told her. The young girl had no idea what to talk about he supposed, so the truth was in order.
"I own Dexly Arms," he simply stated. "So what are you planning to do today, aside from blackening your lungs and burning out your liver?"
He awaited her answer while ignoring the vibration in the pocket of his pants. He had enough problems keeping up this blaze facade and he didn't need any interruptions. He wanted to know her plans and he wanted to know now.
Mr. Archer explained that he owned the hotel, which made enough sense to Violet. She had always been curious, and now she didn't have to lose sleep over how he made his millions. She snorted. Yeah, right. It was still nice to know however, and she made a mental note of the information.
"So what are you planning to do today, aside from blackening your lungs and burning out your liver?"
Violet would have laughed if she hadn't been focused on her cigarette. He was either trying to hurt her feelings, or just incredibly blunt, but she didn't care either way. She knew what she was doing to herself, and didn't care what anyone else thought of her bad habits.
She smirked, blowing the smoke right into his face. "Oh I thought I would fuck up your lungs too while I'm at it," she said with a grin, "And I might have some other shit to take care of, but that's really none of you business."
Yes she was taunting him. She wanted to see just to see how far he would let her go on with an attitude, and maybe if she was lucky she would get a rise. There was something undeniably entertaining about watching a self-important man in a suit try to hold his temper. Then again, Violet always struggled with the whole 'respect your elders' concept, and it wasn't until she started working for Vinnie that she learned there were times she needed to keep her mouth shut. She decided that this was not one of those times.
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Archer's lips curved into a wicked smile. He knew her type, she was one of those girls who used whatever she could to get under one's skin, particular because she was already so unimportant she needed to find away to remain unforgettable. It was really too bad the girl had no idea who she was messing with. The smoke she blew in his face made his belly curls lightly, though he remained calm about it. He hated cigarettes, cigars were distinguished but cigarettes were just plain nasty. He decided that if she wanted to push him, he would respond in kind.
He took her cigarette straight from her hand and tossed it on the floor before grabbing her upper left arm and pressing her against the building's wall. The people around them fidgeting slightly before they cleared away not sure what was going on, but expecting nothing good. Soon they were alone.
"I don't know what part of the ghetto you're from but thats not how people treat others, unless," and with that he pushed his body against hers until he had her firmly pressed against the walls, "they're ready for the consequences."
It all happened in the blink of an eye. One minute she was standing assertively, a mischievous grin on her face, and in the next, the cigarette was ripped from her hand and she was up against the wall. "Hey!" Her heartbeat accelerated, but she knew there was no point in struggling. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that Archer had complete control when it came to the physical aspect and Violet was at a severe disadvantage. Her eyes darted at the people passing by, but no one seemed keen on helping out. Wonderful.
Slowly, Violet brought her eyes back to Robert's face, eyebrows arched as if to ask 'What now?' What was he seriously planning on doing? This was Reynolds Avenue in clear daylight for god's sake. Unless he was as untouchable as he seemed to think he was, surely something or someone would be able to help her.
She forced herself to listen to him, all the while trying to come up with a way to break free of the hold he had on her. She didn't like being trapped in any way, shape, or form since it implied that she was weak and Violet liked to think of herself as anything but.
Her jaw tightened stubbornly, an action she was unable to disguise, but she refused to shift her gaze. Even if she had to surrender physically, mentally was another battle entirely, and it was one she would never give up. She felt a breath escape her lips as she felt him push her tighter against the wall, but her eyes stayed steady, not giving up even the remotest hint of fear.
"And what are the consequences...sir?" Violet asked, her voice thick with sarcasm. If he was going to try to give her a lesson in ethics, he was preaching to the wrong choir.
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Archer laughed into her face as Violet attempted to stare him down. He loosened his grip on her and pulled out a long black box opening it to reveal a few choice cuban cigars, illegal but delicious. He clipped off the end, his hips preventing her from moving and lighted the cigar, puffing away.
He blew it against her face and laughed before holding out the cigar as a peace offering, he allowed her arm free to recieve it.
Violet could only scowl as he mocked her. If she was in any position to move or break free she would have kicked him straight in the balls. Nobody laughed in her face and got away with it, unless they were paying to do so, and as far as Violet knew, he intended to pay for none of his actions. She decided he was an asshole. Any physical attraction to him that might have been fleeting through her mind before was gone and done with.
She wasn't stupid enough to think he was just going to let her go, but there was nothing she could do to prevent the brief feeling of hope she felt when he eased up. Even with the action, he still had her pinned and she was completely at his mercy. She only struggled for a moment if only to show him that she was unhappy where he had her. That wasn't the only thing she was unhappy about, but it was definitely the most pressing matter on her mind.
Violet watched through narrowed eyes as he lit his damn cigar. Oh, he thought he was great. Now he not only reeked of arrogance, but cigar smoke which he kindly thought to blow in her face. Though not as affected by the smoke as she would lead him to believe, Violet coughed and went as far to hock a gob of spit on the sidewalk beside him. If he was looking to fuck some classy, naive bitch he had pinned the wrong girl.
"Were you headed anywhere in particular?"
She merely shrugged, taking the cigar from him carelessly and shoving it into her mouth, "Light?" She still didn't get where any of that was his business, and if he was looking to make it so, he was in for a tough time.
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Red~Handed, {open}
