Date: June 2, 2010
After saving Trina's life, Ivory decides she needs a little Therapy.
Therapy, Ivory's Office
"Welcome to Therapy."
Those are the words that are said as Ivory leads the way into his office within the depths of Therapy. "This is about the best I can do for you. At least for a couple days. I gotta' make sure you're not some crazy chick trying to kill anybody that crosses her path, you see." Ivory spits that out with a joking tone that matches the look on his face.
"I hope you don't mind us sharing this place. I'ma' be sitting there…" Ivory points at the desk. "… tryin' to score you a job." Yup. Make it all about her. Best way to make her feel indebted! Go Ivory! Go!
The place was not one unfamiliar to Trina. She recognized it as soon as she saw it coming up on the horizon of a frighteningly familiar street. Her car, left in the safety of one of Jack's auto buddies' garages, has been abandoned. Setting herself to trudge one foot at a time, each step draws her further and further into the den of vice from which she'd escaped once. Which Jack helped her to escape.
Embracing herself, Trina looks about the room once she's inside and turns, slowly, in place. "I… I ain't gonna have to work here, am I?"
"I ain't gonna' make you do anything you don't wanna' do, honey. I'm just tryin' to help you." Ivory says, moving off to the desk and sitting himself down in the chair behind it. "I will say that I own the place and if you want to make some cash while you're here, I'd be willing to give you a shot." Ivory shrugs a bit. "But, I'd have to see what you got for myself first." Immediately, his hands go up. "Not that I'm sayin' you should work here. But if you wanted to… we sure could use the help. We've already lost like six dancers." Ivory looks down at the desk, wearing a slight frown. "They graduated." he explains.
"I… I worked here once," Trina admits in a barely audible murmur, dropping her head to study at length the rounded toes of her black boots, slowly turning tan from wear. She pulls one of those toes up, as though the sight of it were endlessly fascinating. It helps to hide the blush creeping up into her cheeks. One of her hands is pried off of the white of her coat to sheepishly tuck a dark strand of hair behind her ear. "It wasn't long. A couple a' weeks."
Ivory doesn't really miss a beat. He's always ready for anything that a female decides to say in regards to him or something like that. In fact, he's really quite good at handling such details. It's almost as if he has something of a sixth sense about these things. Or he just knows women.
OR! He just knows how women are going to react to him. Heh, heh.
All cheating aside, Ivory tosses out his response fairly quickly, "I'll bet you had the fellas eating out the palm of your hand." With a smirk, Ivory just kind of shrugs. "What made you stop? The money?" Ivory rolls his eyes, slightly. "Cuz I heard some bad things about the previous owners of this place. Cheapskates." He shakes his head in disbelief. "I pay my girls almost three times as much. And I don't even think about digging deep into their tips either." Wow. What a good boss!
Taking a few steps closer to the desk, Trina gives another half-hearted laugh. "I was only here because of the money. It wasn't a lot, though, no." Looking up, the brunette's lips give a half-pull upwards. "I… I quit 'cuz my man… Well. He took care of me." Her hand keeps going through her hair, trying to find some reassurance there, until finally her fingers scratch at the back of her head. "I really wasn't all that good. I mean, I only had a few years of dance trainin' when I was in high school."
There's a pause. A crinkle of Trina's dark brow, and then another self-deprecating laugh. "And I don't know why I'm tellin' you all this. I must be borin' you to tears. I ain't got much practice in talkin' to senators, former or not." Even though her Man happened to be best friends with one. We don't talk about Him.
"Huh." comes the response from the Ivory. He just kind of leans back in the chair, looking at Trina and making silent judgments. His expression is more studying and accommodating than anything even remotely negative. Eyes continue wandering up and down her body, as if trying to guess which parts of her will score the most cash. Money hungry bastard.
"So. If I were to tell you that I'm going to take care of you now. That I'm going to make everything all better for you. That I'm going to make sure you never have to deal with not having money again…" Ivory leans up on the desk, taking the tone of his voice down into levels that probably shouldn't be allowed. But it would be hard not to listen. Not to want to listen. Not to want to comply…
"…. would you dance for me?" The question is asked as if he already expects the answer to be Yes.
She should not be listening. She should be tuning out the man behind the desk like he was a Latin pop station.
Instead, Trina looks back to Ivory, conflicted. On one hand, she's been living out of her car again. For six weeks. It's a situation that breeds desperation, and he could be preying on it. On the other hand…
The longer she looks at Ivory, the more she listens to him, the less she remembers that there are very good reasons to stay away from this place. Away from everything that it represents. Away from the man that is somehow making her think that any of this is at all a good idea.
There's only one question that Trina can think to push past her lips, and it escapes in a nervous tremble. "Do… Do you promise?"
Ivory stands up at this point, figuring that there may need to be a little more involvement than just his words. He doesn't break his eyes from her. He doesn't even blink as he comes around the desk, making it quite obvious that he's intending on invading her personal space. His movements are slow, slightly predatory, as he slinks his way to where she's standing and he pushes himself right… to about an inch away from her own body. The only thing he can think of to do is smile, as his hand reaches up to plant his caring, genuine fingertips against her cheek. "There's nothing I'd rather do more, at this very moment, than take care of every possible need you could ever have."
Did it just get harder to breathe? It feels like it did. And while it can't possibly fix everything that is wrong with the world, Trina can't help but to consider the possibility that the man who sets his hand upon her skin could make a valiant stride towards it.
She closes her eyes a moment after those fingers slide across her cheek, and then she finds herself leaning into them a moment after that. Her lips part, but she cannot find the words immediately to express herself.
Everything is hazy and she doesn't know what to do with it, awash in a sea of a sudden and strange euphoria. He can take care of her, help her? All she needs to do is accept it.
Ivory doesn't know what to do at this moment. He wants to crack a victorious smile and all of that good stuff. But it may seem like too telling of a facial expression. Instead, he tilts his head to the side, as if studying Trina and trying to make it very clear that he's going to make everything of hers all better. And then some. "I'm gonna' kiss you now, unless you have any objections?" Granted, it's not like it's going to be easy to resist the charms of Ivory. Especially with his other hand coming up to caress the homeless girl's cheeks. Man, did he happen upon her at the right time or what? She's probably going to owe him so many things…
Trina's eyes open, and for what feels like an eternity there is a lingering conflict. Deep-running loyalties clashing against overwhelming… well, whatever this is.
But then his other hand comes up to cradle her face in his hands, and the battle is entirely and wholly lost. If he'd ask for the world, she would give it to him upon a silver platter if she could.
In the wake of that, a kiss is so little a thing to ask. Such a tiny, tiny thing.
There is no objection, only the silent reclosing of her eyes and the gentle placing of her cool palms upon the foreign muscle of Ivory's chest as mark of permission granted.
Ivory Wynn. What a name. For it seems like he's managed to finagle his way into the life of another woman. Which, for the record, seems to be the only reason why he walks the Earth still. He's moved on from being an forced into evil Senator to being a female collecting businessman and he doesn't feel a bad thing at all. There's a reason crazy symbols or coincidental eclipses gave him this ability to make people feel loved and wanted and addicted to him… and by gosh almighty, he's going to use it.
It happens fairly slowly, but too fast for reconsideration, as Ivory's tilted head leans in to bring his lips to Trina's. After all, she's given him silent permission and he sure as heck isn't going to go back on his own request. Eyes are closed for the small duration in which he's quite sure those lips will have rocked what's left of the world that Trina knows.
No small eternities here, though, as the kiss is broken by Ivory with classic reluctance. But, he leans his forehead against hers and sighs, as if coming down from his own high. "You can tell me anything. I hope you know that."
Suddenly weak in the knees and feeling like she's been drinking for half the night, Trina now feels as though she is nothing but heat and heartbeats. She has no desire to see the kiss end, but neither will she force the matter. Instead, she will remain right where Ivory leaves her, lips speaking against his. "I wouldn't know where to start, even if I wanted to. Let's… let's not talk about it? I don't wanna talk about it. You're the first boy I've kissed since I met my fian—" A pause. A crinkle of her brow beneath Ivory's darker own. "My ex. I… I don't wanna think about anything other than you."
"Fair enough." That's all Ivory needs to hear, figuring that he can always pump her for information later. He is, after all, about to be the best thing that's ever really happened to her. He cares nothing about this… fian—, as he's already started making whatever moves would be deemed necessary to take Trina's matters into his own hands. And anything else of Trina's for that matter.
"You're gonna' dance for me. You're going to make a shitload of money. And you're going to live happily ever after." Ivory pulls his head back from hers, smiling and just wanting to make sure that she understands everything. "But first. We're going to take your couch for a spin." Wink. "How's that sound?"
Dancing. Dancing isn't so bad. And it would make Ivory happy. He is, after all, giving her so much. A place to stay. The opportunity for work. Safety. She is safe, after all, so long as she's here, isn't she?
Nothing else really matters, nothing else could hope to matter, more than making him happy. And her own body seems to agree, aching for his touch.
Slowly, Trina nods and offers up a self-conscious smile, even as she bites her lower lip in that same nervousness. "Okay."
Ivory seems reluctant to let go of Trina, but his legs have taken him in the direction of the office door. Which, for the record, he doesn't even look at, as his eyes are still on Trina this entire time. With a foot, the door is kicked closed and Ivory smiles as he reaches for the light switch.
"Welcome Home, Trina."
Ivory's finger reaches the switch and flips it down.