Male Posturing


graeme2_icon.gif phillip_icon.gif

Scene Title Male Posturing
Synopsis A long delayed meeting between Graeme and Phillip, with the requisite tension, ends up with a message for Graeme to deliver.
Date June 21, 2011

Phillip's Office

Having returned to Manhattan, Phillip Solomon has moved into his new east coast home, a condo high above the upper west side. Using the same address as an office, he employs a temp admin assistant named June to handle his schedule. Within three days of his return, Phillip informed her that he's ready to meet with the persistant individual from days prior named Graeme. She returns the original call, schedules an appointment, and will be in the outer office to receive the various persons on the schedule. It's mid afternoon and Graeme will be next on the book.

Meanwhile, inside the condo's main renovated office area, Phillip wears suit slacks, white oxford, no tie and no jacket.

It was a bit of a surprise for Graeme, but it saved him the hassle of actually stalking the man and showing up unannounced. In a way, Graeme would have preferred to show up unannounced, but on time to the minute, he's arrived, black pinstripe slacks that look far more expensive than the jeans and a teeshirt Phillip first met Graeme in, a grey silk tailored dress shirt, and a silver filigree bolo tie that definitely doesn't belong in New York, but it matches the cuff links on the shirt perfectly. No dog this time either, though there was an incredible amount of temptation for Graeme to bring Odin, as the poor creature hasn't gotten as much chance to go out as Graeme would like.

Once inside the office, the teacher presents a for the most part unreadable, calm front, though there's a hint of frustration to his manner, and there's an ever so slight amount of fidgetiness. The man, for all of the superhuman endurance, has never been much of one for sitting still, standing still, any of that. And if he doesn't really like the executive types, he definitely doesn't like their assistants.

"Mister Solomon," he says, voice carrying ever so slight a hint of iciness. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to express my condolences about the loss of your parents, the last time we met." Either he's done his research, or New Mexico simply wasn't as far and detached from the well-to-do world that his adoptive parents participated in occasionally as Graeme likes to pretend that it is. Or he's just making with the niceties.

Solomon raises his left eyebrow at the comment, a quirk of curiousity to his face in regard to the direction that Graeme intends to take in the conversation. Though it's assessed as a distraction attempt and his calm return is, "Thank you." followed by, "June tells me that you were trying to contact me prior to my business in LA. I regret our inability to meet, but pressing matters and all. What is it I can do for you?"

The fidgeting is hidden, hands shoved into pockets. "An explanation'd be nice." There's a wry quirk of his eyebrows and his lips, but after that, he doesn't actually say what, precisely, he wants an explanation for. There are enough possibilities. Why Liz stormed through the safehouse. Why the funding 'fell through'. Simply enough why Phillip was having June put off Graeme's calls and attempts to meet. His head cants to one side, a habit that he seems to have picked up from a certain Russian, and he waits for an answer.

Phillip takes a moment before he begins. Moving to the front of his desk, he half sits upon the edge with his right leg partially raised. Right hand adjusting his cuff link with a brief glance down and then returning his gaze to Graeme, "I would assume you're referring to Liz?" is queried to ensure a proper response.

"In part." Despite that the other man sits down, Graeme makes no move to do so. For him, at least, standing is every bit as easy as sitting. He can stand for days at a time, the length of a meeting isn't an obstacle in the slightest. "It'd be a nice start, and if you try to blame it on her I'll have you start over and try again, because I'm pretty damn sure it ain't her fault." The southwestern drawl that had so far been less prominent in his voice slips out, catching on words and slowing them down. Graeme's serious about this, at least, though if there's a threat in the words, it's carefully hidden.

"It's good she has friends like you." Phillip says in a complimenting tone. His facial expression reflects that tone and accentuates the sincerity of the remark. "Though honestly; You and I have nothing to discuss on the matter of Liz. What happened between her and I is between her and I. It's regretful that emotion spilled over on both shores, though things like that often happen." His final thoughts said with a hint of retrospect and introspection.

After a slight tug on the auricle of his left ear with his left thumb/index finger, Phillip displays an expression of epiphany. He turns his neck, looking across his desk and fishes an envelope from a few papers.

Head tilts to the side again, and it's Graeme's turn to fidget slightly with his cuff links. "Start over," Graeme says, watching Phillip. "Unfortunately for you, there are parts of that are, in fact, entirely my business, although I'm willing to let the small details be private if only because I'm very likely to lose my temper if I know the full matter of what happened," he says, quiet, calm, even.

"Such as the continued future of the project, although Elisabeth seems to have decided that she'll have nothing to do with your money and your funding behind it. But we do need to get what we have out there." And he can't afford to fund it himself, though he may well have enough money to fund a small project. He hasn't even looked in a while. But, his assets are being watched too much. Fingers tap on his pantlegs, pensive. Having said his piece, Graeme is now quiet, observing in a manner that's a little more trained than the usual, as if for weakness, or simply for inconsistencies.

Turning back with the envelope in his right hand, Phillip addresses Graeme with his eyes and slips off the desk. Steps are made toward Graeme, confident steps that suggest that Phillip doesn't even regard Graeme's tone as a viable threat.

Once within a yard, Phillip states, "Ah, there's more to the story. Good. I've already invested time, resources and manpower into the project. In reality it's just stalled. Do me a favor, and with the proper motivation I may be inclined to move forward with your project."

Without hesitation or allowance of a word of denial or discussion, Phillip will place the end of the envelope against Graeme's chest, "Take this to Liz. If you please."

So far, Graeme doesn't have a reason to be a threat, though he is capable of at least briefly doing so even without the revolver that is in a holster in his pocket, there as an emergency measure. The other man's continued cooperation is more important than the growing desire to beat the living crap out of him. And there's no reason to possibly ruin a nice dress shirt. The envelope is examined, and there's a moment of silent woe that he never paid much attention when the rest of his boyhood friends were learning to open and then reseal envelopes. His attempts were always detectable, never nearly as good as people that he's long fallen out of touch with. "Of course." Level, even tone once more.

"I'll see you again at some point, then. But please. keep in mind I really don't like personal assistants. The next time you have your assistant turn down my calls, I will just show up." It's another very, very well veiled threat and there's a dangerous note to his voice. The envelope is taken, in one hand, and it's Graeme's turn to not give time for response, as he's turning around, making his way out of the condo to where his car is parked down at the street. Time to return to the apartment, change, leave the car in the parking garage, and go about the rest of his day, the letter tucked into the backpack for the next time that he makes his way to the safehouse, and a hint of worry at the back of his mind.

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