Faded & Marked
Second Impressions
After much griping on the part of Ariadne; "I am not your assistant, you asshole!", calls were made and Eames was dreading bringing another person into this cozy bubble he had created for himself. He remained hopeful after meeting with half a dozen people ranging from college students with the smell of booze on their breath at three in the afternoon to widows who seemed as old as some of the books in the shop. Thinking he was done shaking hands and smiling politely for the day, he collapsed into the worn leather couch in the back smugly and drawling loud enough to be heard at the front of the store.
"I just don't know who to choose Ari, they were all just amazing!"
Ariadne, ignoring the sarcasm dripping from the man's mouth gave a quick laugh as the familiar tinkle of the bell made it's way back to Eames' ears.
That little bugger snuck one in, Eames pondered almost proud. As much as he tended to pick on the girl, he had grown quite fond of his co-worker and taken a special interest in her.
Springing up from the couch he began to make his way around the staircase and toward the counter behind which Ariadne was posted, when he realized.
"Suit boy!" Eames called out louder than intended and the boy turned to look at him puzzled.
"Excuse me?" he replied.
Eames thought he was quite funny, and laughing at himself stuck out his hand for a handshake, "I'm Eames, I own this place."
"Good to meet you, Mr. Eames. My name is Arthur Forsythe. I got a call from this young lady about a job.." Eames cut him off.
"Just Eames, none of that mister stuff. It's creepy." Eames stared bemused at Arthur, "And you're hired, you'll start tomorrow morning. Seven? No, no way I could be up that early. Make it eight. Be here at eight and it's yours."
"You don't have any questions for me? Did you even look at my qualifications?" Arthur began fishing around in his briefcase which Eames found to be just as outrageous as his starched dress shirt, but didn't bat an eye. The young man found what he was looking for and handed the piece of paper to Eames.
Gesturing dramatically Eames babbled about qualifications being bollocks, and found times like these to be an opportunity to follow your instincts. Arthur was wide eyed for only a split second at the man's theatrics, and then regained his composure raising one eyebrow, shaking Eames' hand and heading for the door.
"Eight o'clock it is, Mr. Eames." Arthur smirked and walked out of the shop.
+
Ariadne staring at Eames wide eyed and slack jawed.
"Do close your mouth, pet. Not becoming of a lady." Eames shot at her with his best posh accent.
+
Taking up the spot he had left on the couch, Eames glanced at the resume. It was almost architectural in a way, the boy either paid for it to be designed or was brutally overqualified for the job he was just offered. Reading on Eames began to glower at the page.
"Bloody hell, Ariadne! Did you read Arthur's resume?" he yelled to the front, "He's only 22 and he's got more experience than the both of us put together."
The only reply he got from the front of the store was a snort of laughter.
"Financial analyst.. Jeweler.. Tailor's assistant, explains that bit I guess.." Eames mumbled the many job descriptions and references that went along with the strange titles.
Saying Eames was even more intrigued, was a bit of an understatement.
"I just don't know who to choose Ari, they were all just amazing!"
Ariadne, ignoring the sarcasm dripping from the man's mouth gave a quick laugh as the familiar tinkle of the bell made it's way back to Eames' ears.
That little bugger snuck one in, Eames pondered almost proud. As much as he tended to pick on the girl, he had grown quite fond of his co-worker and taken a special interest in her.
Springing up from the couch he began to make his way around the staircase and toward the counter behind which Ariadne was posted, when he realized.
"Suit boy!" Eames called out louder than intended and the boy turned to look at him puzzled.
"Excuse me?" he replied.
Eames thought he was quite funny, and laughing at himself stuck out his hand for a handshake, "I'm Eames, I own this place."
"Good to meet you, Mr. Eames. My name is Arthur Forsythe. I got a call from this young lady about a job.." Eames cut him off.
"Just Eames, none of that mister stuff. It's creepy." Eames stared bemused at Arthur, "And you're hired, you'll start tomorrow morning. Seven? No, no way I could be up that early. Make it eight. Be here at eight and it's yours."
"You don't have any questions for me? Did you even look at my qualifications?" Arthur began fishing around in his briefcase which Eames found to be just as outrageous as his starched dress shirt, but didn't bat an eye. The young man found what he was looking for and handed the piece of paper to Eames.
Gesturing dramatically Eames babbled about qualifications being bollocks, and found times like these to be an opportunity to follow your instincts. Arthur was wide eyed for only a split second at the man's theatrics, and then regained his composure raising one eyebrow, shaking Eames' hand and heading for the door.
"Eight o'clock it is, Mr. Eames." Arthur smirked and walked out of the shop.
+
Ariadne staring at Eames wide eyed and slack jawed.
"Do close your mouth, pet. Not becoming of a lady." Eames shot at her with his best posh accent.
+
Taking up the spot he had left on the couch, Eames glanced at the resume. It was almost architectural in a way, the boy either paid for it to be designed or was brutally overqualified for the job he was just offered. Reading on Eames began to glower at the page.
"Bloody hell, Ariadne! Did you read Arthur's resume?" he yelled to the front, "He's only 22 and he's got more experience than the both of us put together."
The only reply he got from the front of the store was a snort of laughter.
"Financial analyst.. Jeweler.. Tailor's assistant, explains that bit I guess.." Eames mumbled the many job descriptions and references that went along with the strange titles.
Saying Eames was even more intrigued, was a bit of an understatement.