2009-12-17: Fashion Forward



Date: December 17th, 2009


Hallis drops by to give Brayden/Nathan some more stylish attire, but winds up delivering the message of fashion to Tracy instead.

"Fashion Forward"

Nathan Petrelli's Offices

New York City

Nathan Petrelli's offices are still on the sparse side. While the decor and all the necessary things to function have been coming together, he still has a very small staff, and as such, the reception area and the adjoining offices are mostly empty. This particular moment is especially quiet, despite business hours being in full effect. An intern or two are wandering around, but there's no one manning the front desk. Maybe the receptionist isn't back from lunch. Or maybe Nathan hasn't hired one yet. It's a toss-up.

The quiet suits the newest member of Petrelli's staff just fine. Tracy is using the downtime to make some notes. She's in her office, the door slightly ajar since there's no one here. Her office is … lacking furniture altogether, but she's stolen a chair and a clipboard, and it's with these that she sits and jots down some words on a paper of otherwise typed text, idly twirling a strand of much darker than usual hair.

A main lobby devoid of life, this is what greets Hallis when she waltzes in through the door and looks around. "Helloooooooo?" she sing songs, apparently expecting someone to come running to her aid. In one hand is a purse so big it looks like Mary Poppins' carpet bag and all of its contents could fit into it, in the other she is carrying three suit coverlets by the hangar. Her large blue eyes dart around the room and spying the slightly ajar door, she heads toward it. All of the others are closed, so this one seems the most inviting.

A quick and rather quiet rap is all the warning Tracy gets before a blonde head peeks inside. "Hello? I'm looking for Nathan Petros— Petrelli." Then she blinks once or twice, though she's only ever seen Tracy once, her clothing was quite impressive and so she remembered the face to go along with them. "Oh hello, you work here too? Are you his vice president or something? How is your arm?"

The downside of being mostly alone in the offices is that there aren't a plethora (or even a few) people to deal with visitors. There's no one to field them away. She said she didn't want to be a public face, but there's truly no one to blame in this case but herself (and, more gratifyingly, the people responsible for making her so paranoid). Blue eyes simply stare at the petite blonde for a moment that verges on 'too long' before the newly redheaded woman sits up straighter before standing up altogether, clipboard against one thigh. She smoothes down the black fabric of her dressy slacks. "I think you're mistaking me for someone else," she lies, but hey, it has been known to happen. "Mr. Petrelli isn't in right now. He doesn't have a vice president, he's not a president. I'm not his receptionist either, but I can give him a message for you, Miss…?"

Without invitation, Hallis steps into the office and places the three hangers on the door knob. "Van Cortlandt," she fills in, "Hallis Van Cortlandt." She peers a little longer at the red head and licks her lips as one of her eyebrows quirks upward. "Hallis Van Cortlandt… are you sure? You had one this really great black outfit, and pearls. Good quality ones, not a rip off string from some mall store." A tinge of blush comes to the shorter woman's cheeks before she waves dismissively with her newly freed hand and smiles. "It doesn't matter, I just brought some blazers by for Nathan. His suits are looking a little too old. I mean, he is old but he should look a little younger. You know? Besides, some of them might get him away from that awful plaid thing he has going on."

Tracy happens to have a black outfit on today as well, though different than the last — thankfully, there are no pearls around her neck to make her lie more unbelievable. "I'm quite sure. My name is Linda," she says as she steps closer to the doorway and Hallis, giving the suits and up-and-down glance despite not being able to see their design in full. She slides a curious eye to the younger woman. "Are you his personal shopper? I don't suppose you brought any ties to go along with these…"

Smiling brightly, Hallis nods quickly. "I did bring ties! I didn't pay for any of this though, they're on loan from Neimann Marcus. Seriously, you toss a name in and put down a deposit and they'll let you walk out with anything." The young woman babbles on, looking around the sparse office. "Huh… there's no where to put anything in here, is there an office with furniture? Or maybe we could go into the front room?" She looks up at the tall woman, still certain that she's seen her before, but… "Pleased to meet you Linda, I'm Hallis. Not his personal shopper, I just met him a few times." Then she reconsiders her choice of words and takes in a sudden gasp of air. "I'm not a stalker or anything, really, it's just. He wore the suit I got him in a Times interview and I was completely embarrassed because it was so last season."

Tracy smiles more brightly, verging on amused, a hint of a laugh under her breath before she replies, "So you just decided to do him a favour?" A fashion favour? Briefly, her gaze turns skeptical, critical, but it's short-lived. "I'm glad, his tie choices have been questionable. Cute, but not exactly stately." She glances around the sad office. It can barely be called an office, given that it's an empty room with a few boxes and a lonely chair. "My… office is still being set up, but I can keep these here. I'll make sure he gets them."

"Well I suppose I'm doing him a favor, but it's really doing me a favor because if anyone found out I bought him that suit… well… You have no idea." Hallis is more used to being the fashion forward, not backward and this would just ruin her reputation. She moves over to the stacks of boxes and places her bag on the floor. From it, she withdraws five white boxes. "Okay, these are the ties. I was trying to find things that he would wear but still look good enough that I can hold my head up." She places the boxes side by side and begins removing the lids one by one, tucking them underneath to give the box a small viewing angle.

"Now, from left to right, we have Charvet, Brioni, Salvatore Ferragamo, Armani, and Stefano Ricci." The petite blonde lists off the names of the designers as she points to the ties one by one. They're all colored aside from the Brioni which is a black and grey paisley print. "Now, if he's iffy about the ties because of the price, I can probably work something out with the store or maybe a designer. They love to have big names wear their clothing."

Then she moves over to the door again and pulls the hangars off the knob and brings them over to the ties. "Now, some of these blazers can't be worn with the ties." She's speaking in a very authoritative tone, perhaps because this is something she's quite an expert on. The first blazer is pulled from its black plastic cover and she holds it up beside her, smoothing the lines with her free hand. "This is a Robert Graham, it's something to go over jeans or in the evening." Hallis says as she waves her hand in front of the suit like Vanna to a letter. The jacket is grey in color with a woven paisley print and black satin edging. "This one might be too young for him, but I thought I'd bring it over anyway. It's really the in thing right now."

Tracy sets her clipboard facedown on the chair she abandoned; her arms fold across her body, over the singular button of her own much smaller and feminine suit jacket as she watches the fashionista do her thing. All the while, a small, amused smile is settled on her face. The ties earn an admiring smile, while the paisley earns a raise of her eyebrows. "Speaking as his advisor— " Not on fashion, by a long shot, but never mind. Image can be everything. Which is Helen's job, but never mind that either. " —don't let him see that. He'd probably wear it. He thinks suits are dull and that most definitely… well, it's a bit much for the image he should be portraying as a would-be Senator."

Looking up at Tracy, Hallis' eyebrows shoot skyward questioningly but then she nods and carefully places the plastic covering back on it. "Maybe after he becomes Senator or something. It's a great jacket." She lays it across the back of the chair and then unzips the next blazer. "This is the classic Versace jacket with a little bit of a twist. It's made of a stretch wool, so it'll give him more shoulder and make him more of a V figure." She removes the plastic completeley and holds the jacket up, showing it off much like the first one. It's a matte black, with a peaked collar. "As you can see, the lines are good. I think women around his age will be drawn more to his shoulder and neck area, so it'll hide his gut if he's starting to grow one… Old men always have one."

"… I wouldn't know," Tracy says, first of all, with a faint smirk. Naturally, she reaches out to lightly touch the collar of the Versace blazer, just for a moment. "But it's gorgeous. This's what you do, huh? Fashion?" Hallis is granted another critical glance, though it's without judgment. She's simply figuring out the young socialite. "I wonder if he lost his fashion sense along with his memory," she says on a more casual note, tipping her head to one side as she goes back to eyeing the blazer.

"Well not just fashion. I buy all sorts of things, shoes are my favorite, but my boss doesn't really have much call for shoes." Hallis quips good naturedly, "My official title is Personal Mystery Shopper, but I haven't gotten to buy anything more mysterious than a giant pair of lederhosen. You have NO idea how hard those are to find on short notice on a Sunday night." She lays the Versace blazer across the ties and then unzips the final jacket. As she pulls the cover off, she reveals a grey suit with a bit of a sheen to the material. "This is another Versace, I like to lean a little toward his stuff right now. It looks really good for the season, not too black or depressing." She hoists the final piece of clothing up, much like she did the other two. "Now, you can see this one looks a little shiny, right? But it's not. It's the pinstripe that gives it that illusion. Pretty neat, huh? This is my favorite for his next interview. If he gets photographed in that, it'll make me really proud."

Although Tracy gives Hallis a skeptical look, mouth poised as though to say something over such things as the title of Personal Mystery Shopper and lederhosen, she chooses to skip right to the Versace. "A nice pick," she says commandingly, legitimate praise. It is a stunning suit. "With any luck, he'll have more press soon. And, of course, he'll need to look the part." All right, she has to ask. "I'm sorry, who exactly do you work for? How did you meet Nathan?"

Hallis places the last jacket onto the 'keep' pile and then bends down to pick up her giant purse. "Oh, I work for Jaden Cain, he's the best boss in the entire world." This is said with a big smile and with a little glint in her eyes. Apparently, the young woman must hero worship him or something. "No word of a lie." Switching quickly to the topic of Nathan, the young woman purses her lips lightly in thought. "As for Nathan… I sort of found him. When I was visiting my boyfriend in Washington. I didn't have anything to wear, so I went out to buy something. Brayden or Nathan, was looking for a house of waffles… Speaking of waffles, did you know that there's this great place in Harlem that sells Chicken and Waffles? Jaden took me there yesterday. His driving isn't very good, but the chicken and waffles were. The lemonade was really good."

"Cain. EvoSoft, right?" It's a big name and one that Tracy knows, albeit not personally. "I … no, I can't say that I did." It doesn't sound like she's particularly interested in visiting the restaurant in question, either. She strolls a small distance away from Hallis, letting her arms fall — no sign of one being broken any time recently, at least. She wanders past the row of handsome ties, though her attention is drifting. "Brayden, huh?" she says over her shoulder.

Hallis flicks her wrist and brings it up to look at it, "Yeah, that's what he was calling himself Brayden something or other. I thought he was homeless, he looked kind of like a lumberjack or some guy that builds bombs in a shack. So I bought him a suit." She looks up at the woman with a large smile, "It looked much better than his other clothes. He cleans up really well, but you work for him so I guess you know that a lot better than I do." She reaches over and picks up the paisley jacket and folds it over her arm. "Well thanks for taking that message for me… do you think you have it? Or do you need me to repeat the presentation?" She takes a step or two toward the door. "Oh! And tell him to call me so I can set something up with Neiman Marcus for his clothing. He shouldn't be paying two thousand for every suit since he should only be wearing them once or twice before getting rid of them."

A subdued wince tightens Tracy's features at the young woman's description of Nathan pre-fashion intervention. Not promising … but curious, and her narrowing gaze says as much. "Honestly, I only just started working with him this week. You may actually have seen more of him than I have Ms. Van Cortlandt." The former blonde smiles politely, though there's a bit of a laugh to her voice as she says, "I think I've got it."

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