Post by Shelby on Jan 31, 2016 16:46:10 GMT -5
Part 1: The Beginning of it All
Arthur's Apartment
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Chardonnay's Outfit
Arthur's Apartment
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chardonnay's Outfit
God dammit! Why, just why in the fucking world was she finding herself in this position right now? Chardonnay groaned, her eyes fixated on no particular sight as they stared out the windshield while she listened to the hard rain pitter patter against the car. Well, pitter patter was probably the wrong description of what the weather was doing. And of course, of course, it had to happen on this day, when she had to come to his apartment to work on this stupid project that they found themselves locked in with each other. Again. Did God really have a vendetta against her or something? Or was their professor, Professor Lockwood, really that much of a sadistic asshole? To be honest, Chardonnay wouldn't discount either of those options, especially not for the latter. After finding out that, after getting into this honors business class, she would, once again, have Professor Lockwood as her professor she thought about dropping the class and taking the regular portion of it. But no, she refused to do that. No way in hell would she allow one man to disrupt her education, especially with the hard work she had put into everything she had done.
But then she saw him. She saw him, sitting in one of the seats of the class, and she nearly blew a gasket.
Chardonnay liked to think that she had matured over the course of her college career; it certainly had its ups and down, there had been so many things thrown her way that nearly made her want to kill someone, but she survived without harming anyone or herself. She made it through her classes with passing grades, flying through her culinary classes, and proudly beaming in her business classes. She still had a hard time getting along with people--she still shot her mouth off and snapped at anyone who so much as looked at her the wrong way--but she liked to think that she had dialed it down a bit. After all, it was something that she had to do: learn to control herself around other people. With running a business, a restaurant especially, she would have to deal with people, people that she likely wouldn't like, but it had to be done to get what she wanted to not only get people to listen to her, but also to show her father that he wasn't making a mistake with letting her handle this new restaurant that was in the process of being made under her direction.
It had been a surprise when her father suddenly told her that he wanted to have another restaurant, one in California because of the population and clientele, but what had been most surprising was that he said that he wanted her to handle everything with it. If she wanted to name it something different, she could. She could create the layout for the restaurant, figure out the menu, and hire her own people. It would still be a part of her father's chain, of course, but it would be considered more of a 'sister' restaurant to her father's famous one. Her own place. She could have her own place, and her father actually trusted her with it! It had thrown her through a loop when she really thought about it; she had always imagined taking over her father's restaurant when it was time for her to really work, so who would take over it if she had to look over her own place? Could she handle two restaurants at any point in her life? Perhaps, but that would be difficult. It was a conversation that she had only briefly touched with her father, and with them still having another year before the restaurant was finished she still had time to discuss everything with him.
Still, she just couldn't believe that she was going to have her own place, and that her father trusted her enough and liked her ideas enough to allow her to do this.
But all of those thoughts were pushed aside as she, still, sat in the car, sulking to herself as she folded her arms over her chest and frowned. Damn rain. Damn professor Lockwood. What, had he looked at the roster, seen that her and Arthur were in the class, and purposefully placed them as partners for this project like they had been freshman year? Why the hell was Arthur even in this class? It was an honor's course; when was he that smart! Sure, he had good ideas with his business--not that she'd ever admit that--but still! She was tired of being around him! He was so frustrating, so irritating, so--so... Arthur. Jackass.
Her eyes glanced over to the side, watching as the outside lights flicker on against the apartment building. Oh God, how bad did his place look? It better not be small. It better not smell like cigarettes. Why couldn't they have just gone to her place?
Right... Because she never offered and refused for him to come over to her place.
She huffed at the thought. Not her fault that she didn't want him contaminating her things. Chardonnay looked at the time on the dashboard and then looked over to her purse where her phone lay. Should she call him, demand that he come down and lead her to his place so that she wouldn't have to get wet? Yeah right. He'd laugh in her face and tell her to hurry up, probably. "Fuck..." She had to do this though. They couldn't afford to slack off on this project, not only because of just the class itself, but also because of the professor; he knew what they were capable of, and no doubt would expect them to come up with something just as good, if not better, than what they had come up with their freshman year that surprised everyone because of their attitudes towards one another.
Reaching back, she leaned over and reached for her umbrella and grabbed it with a frown. Grabbing her purse and shutting the car off, she looked out the window again and groaned, childishly stomping her heels on the floor. This wasn't fair! Grumbling again, eventually Chardonnay opened the door, stuck her umbrella out and opened it before she stepped out, closed the door, and started towards the apartment building. A gust of wind whipped past her, sending droplets of rain onto her legs and dotting her skirt and shirt as well. It only got worse when her umbrella flipped upside down, getting Chardonnay more wet as she quickly ran--in her own way--while trying to get the umbrella right again until she was under cover. She seethed, feeling water fall down her neck and onto her shirt. Oh, she was going to kick his ass for making her come here! And now her shoes were wet, and even her feet...
It didn't take her long to find his door number, but as soon as she did she pounded on the door with her fist, her umbrella dripping water on the ground, her face twisted down into a scowl.
But then she saw him. She saw him, sitting in one of the seats of the class, and she nearly blew a gasket.
Chardonnay liked to think that she had matured over the course of her college career; it certainly had its ups and down, there had been so many things thrown her way that nearly made her want to kill someone, but she survived without harming anyone or herself. She made it through her classes with passing grades, flying through her culinary classes, and proudly beaming in her business classes. She still had a hard time getting along with people--she still shot her mouth off and snapped at anyone who so much as looked at her the wrong way--but she liked to think that she had dialed it down a bit. After all, it was something that she had to do: learn to control herself around other people. With running a business, a restaurant especially, she would have to deal with people, people that she likely wouldn't like, but it had to be done to get what she wanted to not only get people to listen to her, but also to show her father that he wasn't making a mistake with letting her handle this new restaurant that was in the process of being made under her direction.
It had been a surprise when her father suddenly told her that he wanted to have another restaurant, one in California because of the population and clientele, but what had been most surprising was that he said that he wanted her to handle everything with it. If she wanted to name it something different, she could. She could create the layout for the restaurant, figure out the menu, and hire her own people. It would still be a part of her father's chain, of course, but it would be considered more of a 'sister' restaurant to her father's famous one. Her own place. She could have her own place, and her father actually trusted her with it! It had thrown her through a loop when she really thought about it; she had always imagined taking over her father's restaurant when it was time for her to really work, so who would take over it if she had to look over her own place? Could she handle two restaurants at any point in her life? Perhaps, but that would be difficult. It was a conversation that she had only briefly touched with her father, and with them still having another year before the restaurant was finished she still had time to discuss everything with him.
Still, she just couldn't believe that she was going to have her own place, and that her father trusted her enough and liked her ideas enough to allow her to do this.
But all of those thoughts were pushed aside as she, still, sat in the car, sulking to herself as she folded her arms over her chest and frowned. Damn rain. Damn professor Lockwood. What, had he looked at the roster, seen that her and Arthur were in the class, and purposefully placed them as partners for this project like they had been freshman year? Why the hell was Arthur even in this class? It was an honor's course; when was he that smart! Sure, he had good ideas with his business--not that she'd ever admit that--but still! She was tired of being around him! He was so frustrating, so irritating, so--so... Arthur. Jackass.
Her eyes glanced over to the side, watching as the outside lights flicker on against the apartment building. Oh God, how bad did his place look? It better not be small. It better not smell like cigarettes. Why couldn't they have just gone to her place?
Right... Because she never offered and refused for him to come over to her place.
She huffed at the thought. Not her fault that she didn't want him contaminating her things. Chardonnay looked at the time on the dashboard and then looked over to her purse where her phone lay. Should she call him, demand that he come down and lead her to his place so that she wouldn't have to get wet? Yeah right. He'd laugh in her face and tell her to hurry up, probably. "Fuck..." She had to do this though. They couldn't afford to slack off on this project, not only because of just the class itself, but also because of the professor; he knew what they were capable of, and no doubt would expect them to come up with something just as good, if not better, than what they had come up with their freshman year that surprised everyone because of their attitudes towards one another.
Reaching back, she leaned over and reached for her umbrella and grabbed it with a frown. Grabbing her purse and shutting the car off, she looked out the window again and groaned, childishly stomping her heels on the floor. This wasn't fair! Grumbling again, eventually Chardonnay opened the door, stuck her umbrella out and opened it before she stepped out, closed the door, and started towards the apartment building. A gust of wind whipped past her, sending droplets of rain onto her legs and dotting her skirt and shirt as well. It only got worse when her umbrella flipped upside down, getting Chardonnay more wet as she quickly ran--in her own way--while trying to get the umbrella right again until she was under cover. She seethed, feeling water fall down her neck and onto her shirt. Oh, she was going to kick his ass for making her come here! And now her shoes were wet, and even her feet...
It didn't take her long to find his door number, but as soon as she did she pounded on the door with her fist, her umbrella dripping water on the ground, her face twisted down into a scowl.