Participants:
| Scene Title | Keep An Open Mind |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Kain calls Ina in for a revelatory meeting and to inform her of where her temporary employment will be. A side bet is put in the works as well. |
| Date | April 20, 2010 |
Corner Office, Upper Floor, Linderman Group Building
Ding!
The muted reflection of Doris Anderson splits in half when the brass doors of an elevator slide apart to reveal the upper office floor of the Linderman Building. Black and white marble tiles line the floor and ferns sit in white vases tucked away in alcoves lining the halls. Despite the busy hour of morning, there's hardly anyone in the corridors of this administrative floor of the building, weather and illness keeping many people home and away from the office.
There's an audible click with each of Ina's footsteps taking her down the hall, past several unmarked wood doors and towards a large lobby with a pair of horse-shoe shaped desks in an oval at the middle of the spacious waiting area. Secretaries recognizing her just lift their eyes and smile, while one dark-haired woman motions with a pencil towards a frosted glass door nearby, "Mister Zarek's waiting for you, Miss Anderson. He said for you to go right in."
Around the front desk and towards the glass door, Ina can see the title emblazoned across the glass; Kain Zarek, Public Relations Executive. No knock needed on the glass door, the floor manager of the Corinthian hotel emerges into a well appointed corner office, frosted windows spiderwebbed with ice from the arctic cold outside, and what isn't covered with a thin laer of ice reveals a city buried under too much snow, and still some falling in flurries at this early hour.
Standing behind his desk, the tall and broad-shouldered silhouette of Kain Zarek is facing out one of those tall windows, looking over the city, hands folded behind his back and dirty blonde hair tied back into a pony tail. Near his desk, there's an easel standing up with a white cloth draped over it, though Zarek — by reputation — never seemed to be much of an art lover.
"C'mon in darlin'…" Kain notes over his shoulder turning slowly with a lift of one black brow to offer a blue eyes stare askance at Ina. "Pull up a chair, Ah' got some coffee brewin' an' a bottle a' Bailey's with your name on it."
The clack, for once, is not teetery stiletto's but fashionable daring flats to go with the white suit. Give her a week, the outrageously heighted shoes will be back. For now it's just outrageously priced flats. "After last night, I could surely use some" Pink splotches on her face where frostbite is healing, scratches on her palm.
"I presume this isn't a conversation where I'll be hand slapped for something that wasn't my fault and wasn't forseeable" The brunette takes a seat in front of the desk, leaning on her right hip and crossing her legs at the ankle. "No one told me when I came to New York that men with automatic weapons in stairwells or rooftops, much less elevators were du rigeur Kain"
Grinning that Devil's smile, Kain shakes his head and walks over to the antique sideboard on the right of where Ina's seated, upending a pair of coffee mugs, filling them one by one. "Darlin', ain't that the God's honest truth?" He notes with a toothier grin. The coffee pot makes a sloshing clunk when it's set back down, and Kain's pulling up that dark bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream from beside it, unscrewing the cap as he continues the conversation.
"Danny told me what happened up at the Casino, sure as shit wasn't even two months open and some sons'a bitches are screwin' things up. This city's goin' to hell in a hand-basket down an empty elevator shaft." Lightening the coffee with the Rum-spiced cream, Kain adds a dash more to Ina's mug than his.
"Ain't none a your fault though, heard nothin' but good word from upstairs about you. Normally this'd be Robert Caliban's job, but he's been sick for a few weeks now so Ah'm pullin' double duty with his work." Returning to his desk, a coffee mug in each hand, Kain leans over to offer one out to Ina as he takes a sip from his.
"Now," Kain notes with an appreciative smile, "what you got dragged on up here for ain't nothin' bad, but it ain't good either. So Ah'm gonna' ask you t'keep an open mind for the next couple'a minutes while Ah' explain what went down as best as Ah' can."
"I come from Vegas Kain, If you can't be open minded there, then you shouldn't bother even trying" The coffee is taken with one hand, fingers insinuating themselves through the handle and taking it from him. The surface is blow across, ripples in the cream colored liquid before lifting it to her lips and partaking of the spiked liquid.
'I'm sorry to hear that Mister Caliban is ill. I'm sure you're more than capable of filling his shoes as well as yours for a spell" There's a glance to his feet then back up. "They're big enough" A mona lisa smile produced at that comment.
"That's what she said," Kain jokes with a crooked smile, taking another sip from his coffee as he walks behind Ina's chair and over to the covered painting. "Ah— all jokes aside," Kain admits with a laugh, "this might be a bit fucked up." Completely frank and unafraid to swear like a sailor in his office, Kain reaches out to tug down the cloth covering the painting, revealing a twelve-by-twenty canvas depicting the sixth floor hallway of the Corinthian hotel bathed in darkness. Red is the prominent color in an otherwise black and white painting, depicting a woman on one knee with an arm out, grasped by a black clad figure with a ski mask on and a gun leveled to her head, a spray of red coming out from the side. It's clear she's being executed. Another man behind the brunette woman is holding her other hand back, also with a gun out. On the floor behind her, there is a man scrambling away on his hands and heels.
Ina recognizes herself in the painting, and James Alton trying to get away.
"It's based on an 1804 paintin' called the Murder of Jane McCrea. It was done by a Linderman Group artist who'se got a knack for paintin' the future as he sees it…" Furrowing his brows, Kain turns from the painting to look at Ina, sipping at his coffee with brows raised.
Well hello there. The coffee cup is slid down to meet the surface of Kain's desk as she slides forward, then stands up so that she can move closer to the painting with raised brows. "Pre-cognitive with painting as his medium" Before it the woman stands, lips pursed and taking in the fleeing Mr. Alton then the assailants.
Ina does not look pleased.
"What can I say Mister Kain, other than that was not how it went down last night. Right suit, right shoes, wrong outcome. Seems your precognitive painter only managed to capture a potential future" She points out. On her heel she turns, heading back to the desk so that she can perch on the edge, take up the spiked coffee again.
"Potential 'cause we changed it," Kain notes with a raise of his brows. "That paintin' got done about six weeks ago, Danny didn't know what to make of it till you reported the bad slots goin' on at the Casino and listed James Alton as the suspect. Once we pulled up that mug," there's a motion to the face in the painting, "we figured somethin' bad might be goin' down. So, Danny put in a call to some people that owed him a favor in the government, and sent that agent feller' out to give you some assistance."
Sipping from his coffee again, Kain comes over to sit on the corner of his desk, looking Ina up and down. "Just wanted to let you know we're doin' everything we can t'figure out who those guys are, Danny's whipped the police extra hard, and that agency that helped you out's gettin' in on it too. Problem is we don't know exactly who they were yet, so we don't know if aside from ol' Jimbo there, they wanted anythin' bad from you too."
Eying his coffee an then resting it on the desk, Kain looks up to Ina, brows furrowed. "So, we're gonna put you somewhere else for a little bit, sorta' like protective services. You got time off from the Casino — paid — for the next four weeks. In the meantime, we want you somewhere we know we can trust and in a place those goons might not expect to look for you if there's reprisal."
Rolling his tongue on the inside of his cheek, Kain lifts one brow and asks, "You ever met a guy named John Logan?"
"If you are sticking me in the strip club…." Ina knows who Logan is. She's never met him, but she's heard of him. There's another glance to the painting and a wrinkle of her nose. "Could have just waited till the day I wore a red suit and shoved me in an office instead of just letting me walk around and risk getting shot. Besides, they weren't gunning for me. They were going for the Agent that Mr. Linderman sent. Only they have technological assistance becuase everything was down."
There's another wrinkle of her nose. Please, please do not be putting her in Burlesque. Flashes of her mother and the Folies Begere circulate in her mind.
"Danny's orders were Danny's orders, Ah' ain't up on how to handle all this prophecy nonsense, Ah'd just as soon given you a bazooka an' let you figure it out yourself, but Danny's got his way'a doin' things, which— " Kain flashes Ina a smile, "means that for the next month you're gonna' be helpin' ol' Johnny Logan out at Burlesque in Brooklyn." There's a somewhat sheepish quality to Kain's smile as he folds his hands in his lap.
"Just in floor manager capacity, don't go lettin' him talk you up inta' gettin' on stage or nothin'…" Kain hesitates, one dark brow raised, "unless a'course you want to but— y'know— yer call, darlin'." Grimacing, Kain reaches up to scrub at the back of his neck with one hand, reaching out for his coffee again.
"Gunnin' for the agent or not, we're gonna make sure you're safe. Ah' got a personal security detail Ah'm gonna put with you, two biggest an' meanest son'sa bitches you ever did see. Manny Calavera and Lorraine Dixon, they've been runnin' security for Linderman for a long time, so they'll be watchin' yer back just in case. Better safe'n sorry, right?"
What Danny want, Danny gets and Ina's shoulders square and chin goes up. "I'd put all his employee's to shame in a bustier and you know it Kain, if I got up there and danced" Helping Logan manage Burlesque. It'll be… Interesting. To say the least. It still doesn't sit well with the brunette. "I'll go, with protest. Am I being relocted to sleep elsewhere too, and if you say the speakeasy, I am going to lodge a stiletto heel in your neck Kain" Or Any other rathole for that matter. She looks back over at the painting, unable to take her eyes off it. It's frankly really creepy really. To see ones purported death that was predicted weeks ago.
"Nah the speakeasy's too far an' Ah' wouldn't put anybody in that roach motel. Logan'll have some accomodations for you upstairs at Burlesque, somethin' private where you can be kept an eye on an' all that. Logan may be a nancy-boy poofball but he's also pretty well connected, so you shouldn't be wantin' for nothin' while you're in his care. Manny an' Dixon'll be just one shout away too, so you ain't gotta worry none about trouble."
Sliding off of his desk, Kain drains the last of his coffee from the cup, walking back over to his sideboard and setting it down. "Danny protects his investments, an' if Ah'm figurin' how this is all goin' down, you're an investment." Looking over his shoulder to Ina, Kain lifts one dark brow up. "Now, 'course, you're a gamblin' woman…"
Oh dear.
Turning around and corssing his arms over his chest, Kain tilts his head down and lifts one brow slowly. "How's about you'n Ah' have a little friendly wager. Ah'm willin' t'bet that any girl over at Logan's place could rake in… let's say fifty percent more'n you could in a night." There's a flash of a smile, "You be willin' t'play them odds?"
Which means that her rooms will be under surveillance. Camera's everywhere. "Ten grand Kain, says I can out earn in one night, his best" Long legs are uncrossed as she rises from the edge of the desk, her own coffee drained. "Steep enough for your blood or do I need to go less?" She turns on one heel, jerking a hip to the side and up before heading for the door. "Any other pictures that I need to see or instructions from on high? I'd like to get packing"
Now Kain's smiling. "Darlin' you're in luck because Ah' happen t'be out've the poor house as of just recently." There's a raise of Zarek's dark brows as he walks on over to where Ina stands, shifting his weight to one foot and keeping that grin spread from ear to ear. "Ten grand it is, an' as soon as Burlesque's open for business when this snow bullshit ends, Ah'll be front and center."
Because obviously, Kain Zarek will have to see this to believe it, among other things.
"See ya on the dance floor, darlin'."