ota {when in Rome}

[intolerantly]

One of the benefits of being heir-apparent to one of the Deck's oldest families, Ivona had long since decided, was that everyone knew who you were. Which, in turn, meant that she never had to stand in line, wait to be seated, or was ignored in favor of another, lesser customer. Which wasn't to say that she flaunted her name and Rank, absurd; she didn't have to.

No, most of the shopkeepers were more than happy to cater to Milady Ivona's every wish and whim--it probably helped that she was usually a generous tipper, too, regardless of the service, be it dry cleaning, shoe repair, special orders or simply having a latte in the corner deli down in Town. And it was a heady feeling, being courted thus. Ivona stifled a chuckle as poor Jamison was loaded down with his lady's dry cleaning, signing off on the ticket and adding a good twenty percent extra.

"There's a good lad, James," she said with an unsympathetic smile, pocketing her checkbook. "And do take care not to wrinkle my Valentino, if you please."

The Two, all but buried under clothing bags, grunted agreement and staggered out of the shop, Ivona following. She had several other stops to make this afternoon; bookstore, shoe store, market--she'd been craving some strawberries with real cream for a few days and was determined to procure. The day was hers, and she was long overdue for a bit of indulgence.

Comments

[headfollowheart]

Zoe's lips curled up in a superior sort of smile, and she lifted both eyebrows as she gave Ivona a coolly amused look. Victor would more likely to become irritated if kept away from his knives, really. But if Ivona Wolf didn't know that, why should Zoe enlighten her?

"How fortunate for us both, then, Miss Ten," she said smoothly, "that I am not you, and you are not me."

[intolerantly]

"Oh, I give thanks every single day," Ivona assured her, falsely cordial and simply dripping with venomous sweetness. "I wish you all the best." And...whatever other horseshit cordialities she'd have to mouth before continuing on with her chores.

[headfollowheart]

"I'm absolutely sure you do," Zoe drawled out as she swung her bag over her arm and turned to go. "Oh. Miss Wolf? Have a care. Your Valentino's about to hit dirt."

Wouldn't that be horrifically tragic, too.