Post by JAMIE LLOYD QUINN on Feb 27, 2013 9:06:16 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: d3d3d3; width: 370px; padding-top: 30; padding-bottom: 30;] [/style][style=width: 345px; height: 75px; background-color:aa9999; padding-left: 5px; padding-top: 2px; padding-bottom: 2px; font-size: 8px; font-family: arial; color: 887777; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 1;]all along it was a fever a cold sweat hot-headed believer. i threw my hands in the air and said show me something. he said if you dare come a little closer. round and a round and a round we go. oh now tell now tell now tell me now you know. not really sure how to feel about it something in the way you move. makes me feel like i can't live without yeah it takes me all the way. i want you to stay The winter air from the harbor seemed more brutal than Jamie had ever felt it and he noted it along with the several other signs that today was the equivalent of hell on earth. Most of it was misfortune, all of it irritated him, but when work calls, work calls. He could feel the salt of the air settling on the smooth shaved skin of his face and he wasn’t nearly as enthused over this yacht as was his boss. Peter Murphy was on a kick of acquiring yachts, ships, vessels; Jamie didn’t think it was the most lucrative route to go down. Yet he was not the man of hundreds of millions of dollars, he was the man with a few. He dabbled in the millions to do the work Peter refused to dirty hands of – that’s why Jamie was paid the top dollar. If he was going to swing the bat and lose a piece of himself every time it connected, he needed something to make it worthwhile and money was the best way to keep a person happy. Jameson Quinn would die alone, he decided that fate a long time ago. He was nearing the edge, the cusp of not knowing whether he could remember the Jamie that was raised by his parents. Marcy Quinn instilled kindness, a gentle demeanor, a willingness to believe the best in people, and a desire to help others in the world. Charlotte was like her mother, she would never be a good CEO and he was blessed to know that he could run things under her, a figurehead. Jamie wasn’t the boy he used to be and he never turned into the man that his mother wanted. She loved him, but she didn’t agree with his life choices. He didn’t agree with how naïve she had been to sleep with Peter believing that it would solve all her problems. It had in a sense but it blossomed and created more in other. It created a bastard daughter to be raised by a man that wasn’t her father in utter rejection of the man that was. If there was anything that troubled Jamie it was the lies said and the truth unspoken. Marcy Quinn loved Peter Murphy. The first time he met, or he remember meeting, Peter Murphy he was a small boy, six years old and his little sister was turning one in the coming days. It was snowing, it was this same harbor, and he remembered distinctly that it was not the Chuck E Cheese she had promised they were going to. It wasn’t any reason special, it was supposed to be their adventure and something fun. Dad was working hard in the café and gave Mom a break, she said she would take the kids somewhere special. It wasn’t Chuck E Cheese, it was the harbor. He remembered whining and walking slow, stomping his feet even to make his point that he didn’t like being lied to. Marcy told him it wasn’t a lie, they were to go and this was only a detour. There was four inches on the ground, he remembered kicking snow at her heels. She slid to fall but Peter caught her, caught them from taking a tumble. He mockingly intoned her choice for footwear and she alluded to the fact that she wanted to look pretty. He never understood why she wanted to look so pretty for Chuck E Cheese. When she stood, he took Charlotte from her cradling and holding the sleeping child. He looked like a father, but Jamie didn’t understand why. At the time, he thought Charlotte was Dad’s as did everyone around them. “She has your forehead.” Mom commented. “She has your golden hair.” He replied “She has your nose, though. See?” Mom brushed Charlotte’s hair out of her face. “Mmm but she looks more like you so it will never be noticed. Like you wanted, people will never know until you want them to know.” He had a hard time giving Charlotte back, Jamie was a silent observer but he noticed the tears threatening to fall. Jamie wanted to believe it was the snow hitting the man’s face, but he knew it wasn’t. Marcy told him to hold Charlotte until they were back to the car. He remembered trudging in the snow, again kicking it at the adults until his mother took his hand. She scolded him quietly and helped him into his booster seat first. Now they would go to Chuck E Cheese, it was all he cared about. He wanted to jump into the ball pit and never come out until he had to. Peter put Charlotte in her car seat with a tenderness he’s never seen before. He kissed her forehead not once but three times. “I love you, Lotte.” The only thing he said to her before shutting the door and turning to Marcy. They talked, he saw them kiss and not just one kiss but any. That was something he chose to forget. Yet he distinctly remembered Peter crouching down next to him as he opened the car door. “What’s your name, son?” He knew but he was humoring Jamie. “Jamie, sir.” “Well, Jamie, one day you’ll come to work for me, won’t you?” Jamie didn’t answer, he screwed his face up. He was going to be a baker like his Dad. “Fast cars, lots of money, lots of fun.” Peter offered, Jamie smiled and nodded. “I’ll see you when you’re eighteen, then. Nice in doing business with you, Jamie.” “Jameson!” Jamie corrected, wanting to sound more like an adult. Peter laughed. “Jameson, rather. See you when you’re eighteen.” Marcy Quinn loved Peter Murphy. This was the exact spot in the harbor and he wondered if his mother would appear to kiss and hold Peter. He buried that memory along with several others. He lost respect for his mother and for the idea of a happy family, she ruined it and now his parents were silently divorcing. The three of them, Jamie, Charlotte, and Daniel all knew they were in the middle of that but none of them chose to acknowledge it aloud. Jamie knew the reason, Peter and Marcy could finally be together without worrying of destroying childhoods. They wanted to be together, be married to each other, the whole shebang. Jamie would never marry, he would never have this sort of issue. He had a depleting sense of respect for his mother, little respect for Charlotte spitting on marriage and marrying a douchebag, and no respect at all for Peter, his employer. He hated the idea of marriage and he would dabble in the idea of dating. Jameson Quinn would die alone, he decided that fate a long time ago. He watched the waves of blonde approach the boat and he offered a hand to help her in. There was snow on the ground, when had that happened? He lost himself in reveries, but he couldn’t shake the sense of dread washing over him. He avoided the harbor when it snowed, it always put him in a mood. He forced the feelings aside and watched Cressida step inside the boat, also wearing heels. He thought of the comment Peter made to his mother. His irritation was peaking, but it was not at her. Cressida Mancini was some sort of temptress, Jamie was under her spell but she was in his trap. It was as if they were stuck in a wild dance of primal lusts, disregard for what others thought of their union, and a mutual tolerance, borderline like, for the other. She was beautiful, eight years his junior and that was the source of a problem for everyone around them, but not for them. She didn’t care if he was vicious and ill-tempered because he was never the way directly to her. He didn’t care that her family was a large mass of hypocrites and the fact that her older sister choked him out with his eyes every time they ran into each other. He could imagine her words, he was positive they were not pleasant and it made him smile a large smile full of teeth. Peter was on the phone, he ventured inside the yacht leaving the two to themselves. Jamie cupped her face and kissed her, she seemed more angelic with flakes of snow in her wavy hair, soft and golden like a field of grain. He knew he didn’t love her, if he did then he ignored it because he wasn’t allowed. It would never be appropriate for him to love her or for her to love him. They were dabbling in an agreement to sleep together, but if he had been younger and someone her family could approve of he could have loved her or he could have admitted that he loved her. It would never be appropriate or allowed, but he brought her here simply to give her a gift. Peter had them set for a busy schedule leading up to Charlotte’s wedding: flights out of Boston, meetings in cities that made a lot of capital. He wouldn’t see her or have time for her, it was almost as if he was releasing her from his clutches and setting her free. It would please everyone around her. There was no love for a monster that appeared as a man. Jamie was a monster, he would never have love and he told himself he didn’t want love. He had no respect for the ideals and traditions that everyone abided by for years. He wasn’t marrying and he wasn’t having kids. Jameson Quinn would die alone, he decided that fate a long time ago. He pulled a necklace box from his pocket and offered it to the blonde. He had a sudden bout of panic, anxiety over telling her that he didn’t want to see her around anymore. He didn’t want to but he knew he had to. “For you, open it.” He didn’t bother with manners, he didn’t see the need. Inside lay a necklace with large pearls and a daisy made from diamonds. In the center a cushion cut yellow diamond, with small yellow diamonds radiating out from it into white diamonds all in the shape of petals of a daisy. It was a hefty price tag of seventy-five thousand dollars plus tax but it didn’t affect him. Peter gave him that like pocket change and even with all of his wealth, he didn’t know what to do with it anymore. It made him happy when he was young and had nothing to care about, but now he cared about a life he would never have. He wasn’t going to settle, he told himself that. He wasn’t going to fall in love with a woman, either. Cressida Mancini meant nothing to him or so he told himself. “Do you like it?” he murmured but gave her no time to reply before he pulled out another box, meant for bracelets, and offered it to her. “Something if you don’t want to wear that. Within it lay a pearl bracelet with a triad of diamonds separating each pearl. It was nearly fourteen thousand dollars, but he didn’t look at the price tag when he picked them out. It wasn’t about the cost, he thought they were beautiful and he believed they suited her. Watching and waiting for her expression and he longed for it to be appreciation, he pulled the gift from the box and placed it around her neck, clasping the necklace and adjusting it for her. He helped her with the bracelet as well and he smiled again, kissing her, but he had the sinking feeling in his stomach. He had to tell her. “Perhaps we shouldn’t see each other anymore, Cressida. There are other men in the city better suited for you.” He clenched his jaw and forced a faltering smile. Jameson Quinn would die alone, he decided that fate a long time ago. made by owlgirl of caution 2.0 |
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