One thing after another
I was glad to go back to work the next day, an escape into normalcy. Loki brought me concealer for my neck from Avenger Tech, something that went on light and smooth but had the coverage of moleskin, and went to lunch with a classmate, and I went to lunch with Pepper. I had a birthday gift for her, a pendant. She squealed happily when she unwrapped it and put it on immediately.
"I did a bad thing," she confessed, and I looked at her inquiringly. "Seriously bad. This might be the end of our friendship."
"Really?" I asked apprehensively. "What?"
"I was ordering flowers for the opening of your store next week, and Tony came by-" I winced. Stories that included "Tony came by" or, generally, "Tony" followed by a verb generally didn't have happy endings. "He overheard." She handed me a small square envelope. With dread, I opened it carefully. It was an invitation. To an opening party in my business. I sat back so suddenly that my chair scooted back.
"The fuck, Pepper?"
"He wanted to do something helpful," she said, and went to work trying to smooth things out. In the end, the information that the invitations had been sent out to an unknown guest list already was the only thing that had me grudgingly permitting the event to happen.
Loki's reaction was different. His smile got crafty and calculating. "Black tie," he said. "I don't believe I have a black tie."
I sighed. "It means formal. Take the credit card and go to Brooks Brothers or someplace else that's good. Be sure to tell them that this is Stark's fault and the date that we need this by."
He patted my head and took the credit card from me. "Dear Emma. This store will be the place for society to get jewelry after this party. We are going to clean up, I believe is the phrase. And if you do not procure for yourself something awe-inspiring to wear, there will be trouble." He looked me up and down. "Long, classic. I will need to see it." I glared at him and he lifted an eyebrow, refusing to give.
"All right," I snapped, and he took off. Three hours later, he returned with two different garment bags.
"I got my tuxedo," he announced cheerfully. "It is being tailored and will be ready the day before the party. I have two choices of dress for you. It appears that the dresses this season are all highly ornamented. It was difficult to find something clean and classic, yet I have succeeded. They are both of the 'vintage' style and will make the most of your form." He whipped the bag off the first dress. It was a high waisted dress in champagne silk satin, with an embroidered black net overlay that was ornamented with beads that caught the light. A softly draped black band hugged the ribs, going over the breasts and tying just over them. Eye-catching and different. He sent me to change and held my hair up.
"Now the other," he commanded, and this one was a rich dark emerald 30's style silk satin slip dress, bias cut, the front plain, backless. There was a jeweled clip at the center below my waist. The long skirt did not cling to my legs, but it outlined my form. Loki smirked. "Yes. Every woman at the party will look overdressed by comparison. You will wear the bleeding heart flower choker with the plique a jour enamel, peridots, pearls, and garnets. Your hair will be up, and all you will need is a smile and beautiful shoes, which you will have to try on at the store."
"Loki, I can't wear a bra with this."
"I know. You will look both sensual and severe. Men will find reasons to speak with you and they will come back to purchase jewels so that they can try their luck with you." I snorted. "The women will want, even subconsciously, to be like you. You need four inch heels with that dress," he instructed.
He took off to return the other dress and I was left gaping. Shit. This whole thing had somehow spiraled completely out of my control.
I went home in a foul-ish mood, having stopped at the tower clinic for a session for my bruises with the tissue accelerator. However, when I turned up the street, Bucky and Steve were ripping the derelict fence out. They were in their shirtsleeves, t-shirts plastered to their bodies with sweat, lightly steaming in the chill air. I stopped in awe, smiling as I listened to them bicker. My day was looking up suddenly. They looked around as I came up to them and stopped. Bucky leaned on a fence post.
"Wow, lot of work here," I said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
"Yeah, turns out the fence only looked like it was falling down," he said, smiling. Steve was breathing heavily, one foot propped on the shovel. He looked a little pissy, so I gave his cheek a kiss too, and he lightened up.
And then Tony came around the corner, bringing a wheelbarrow with cement with him. Dammit. I glared at him, and he looked a little uneasy.
"Ah. Yes. Pepper said that you misunderstood, Emma," he said, trying charm.
"What did you do, Tony?" Steve said with a certain weariness.
"Well, Pepper said that Emma here was opening her store next week. I just arranged a little party to celebrate. Bring it to the attention of the right people," Tony said, talking fast. Bucky shook his head and worked the post out of the ground. It really did look like it was rotting, but it was in the ground very firmly.
"You didn't ascertain whether this was something she wanted, did you," Steve said, making it a statement rather than a question. Tony smiled, a bright, slightly panicked look and trotted over to his suitcoat on the stairs. He extracted two envelopes and gave one to each man.
"Moral support. All the Avengers got one. That will bring the press," Tony said, and my tension ramped up. I didn't really want this. I wanted word to spread as people saw my work on people like Pepper, who while being powerful, was also one of the best liked people in the city according to popularity polls. I didn't want this to be like a society event. I had pieces that pretty much anybody could afford, and I didn't want it to look like you had to be rich to get in the door. Bucky put his hand between my shoulders and started working on a knot of muscle. "It's only two hours," Tony added.
He looked pathetically anxious. I reminded myself, very sternly, that he was just trying to be helpful. Loki and I would just have to do our best to make sure that the press understood my purpose. I forced a smile on my face. "I appreciate the intent," I said. That was as far as I could go right now. Tony relaxed a little, and Steve gave me a sharp look as he started to shovel cement into post holes. Bucky patted my shoulder and I went along to my house. Loki was at class, and I was grateful for the solitude. I dropped my bag and went up to take a bath and relax. Or try to. Honestly, I was still really freaked about Bucky and nervous about opening the business. The idea of the party was nice, but it took an important aspect of my business out of my control. I felt really stretched. I liked my work, but was it really good enough to sustain a business past the initial burst of curiosity? Loki said he liked it, but he was a sweet guy who was trying to buck me up. My emotions were all over the damned place. I sniffled and rubbed my nose. I flicked away a couple of tears while I was at it.
I stayed in the bath enough to relax some, then wrapped myself in my robe and went downstairs, making some sandwiches for dinner. I was definitely going out patrolling tonight. Maybe I'd find myself a baddie to beat up, then felt bad about that.
I did find some crime to punish. First was a mugging, a little old man who had gone out to a convenience store for milk. I'd stopped using zip ties to restrain the crims due to the proliferation of YouTube videos showing how to get out of them and moved to duct tape, which was more difficult. I included a lecture of respect for one's elders as I taped his wrists and feet together and escorted the man home. There was a group of a few guys who were picking a fight with another fellow, who didn't take too kindly to the rescue, but he was outnumbered four to one. Finally I said that if I saw him in that situation again I'd just go on my merry way since he had everything under control and left. The final dirtbag was a guy who had a gun to the head of some poor woman and was making her give him head. I overreacted and beat him up before leaving his tiny dick for the cops. I gave her a tissue and waited while she called the police.
"This doesn't look like quite your style, Poppy," one of the responders said, gesturing to the bruises coming up on the guy and his bloody nose.
"He had a gun on her and I've had a crappy day," I said.
"Maybe you should take the rest of the night off," he said, patting my shoulder. "Sounds like your emotions are getting the best of you."
"Mmm," was all I trusted myself to say, and I left. The nerve. Nobody said shit to Batman or Deadpool when they went a little too far. And that point for them usually put the bad guy in the hospital if not the morgue. Sexist jerks.
Loki spent his time at work working on the displays in the beautiful, ornate cases. I kept my head down and worked on new pieces. Every time I thought about the party I wanted to throw up.
The day before the opening, I stepped outside to find a group of reporters waiting for me on my lawn. "Ms Harrington, were you aware that your father died yesterday? Are you going to the funeral?" the first reporter shouted.
"Your brother and sister said you refused to see him in the hospital," another one said. One reporter showed me a newspaper with a story that made me out to be a horrible daughter who refused her dying father's last wish to see her. I saw red.
"You seem to be laboring under some misunderstood facts," I said coldly. "First of all, that man wasn't my father, he was just the guy who knocked up my mother. He deserted her as soon as she told him she was pregnant. There were never any attempts to contact me. My mom and grandparents never spoke of him. There was never so much as a birthday card or a single cent of child support. And there were times when my mom could have used it. It wasn't easy for her to be a single parent; we lived in a conservative place. According to my half-brother, he recognized me when I got married, but he still never reached out. I never knew I had half-siblings until a while ago when my half-brother showed up on my doorstep. He told me that his father was dying from lung cancer and he wanted to do something for him. I doubt that he asked his father whether he wanted to meet me, but given past inaction, I have to think it wouldn't have been the joyous surprise that Brad thought it would be. But I didn't want to meet him either. And I never met his sister."
"Your half-brother said you said you hoped he was suffering."
"I did," I acknowledged. "I have no reason to think well of him and I was stunned that this man I never met showed up out of the blue like that, asking for favors. I was surprised and shocked, and it wasn't a nice thing to say. The whole 'cowardly father who ran away from his responsibilities' is a bit of a sore spot with me. If you were in my shoes, I bet you wouldn't be so ready to think the best of him either."
"Mr McDonald said that you sicced the Winter Soldier on him."
I started to laugh. "First of all, Bucky is a friend of mine who was perturbed by the fact that Brad was trying to pressure me into doing something I didn't want to do. He's not some animal, for heaven's sake, and he didn't threaten him. And you've got to question Brad's motives for coming forward with this story. He told me that he knew about me from the time he was a teenager and that he found out my name a couple of years ago. So why track me down now? My guess is that the medical care was expensive and now there are big bills that he hoped that he could guilt me into paying." I shook my head. "Now please get off my lawn. This is private property."
They had to leave, but they didn't look too unhappy about it. I'd just given them some juicy details for their non-story.
Nevertheless, I was in a bad mood when I made it to work.
It was made worse by the arrival of people to look at the space and bring in things for the next day's party, including the crates of champagne. Loki handled them pretty well, but by the time I left the office, my muscles were screaming from the tension and I had an upset stomach and headache. I knocked off early to go swimming and weight lifting, and then I went to get a massage. I didn't do it frequently, and now I wondered why. I felt a lot better once my muscles were pummeled into submission. I didn't go out patrolling because I didn't want to collect any new, hard-to-explain bruises.
The next day, Loki and I were going in late, so I slept in a little and prepared to enjoy a more leisurely breakfast than usual. I was dismayed to see in the paper that there was more coverage of me missing the sperm donor's funeral, with quotes from my porch speech as well as some fact-checking about the probable costs of the sperm donor's medical treatments, doctors, and medications. I felt more and more that the half-brother had looked me up to squeeze me for cash. Tough. There had also been a murder in "my" neighborhood and the reporter wondered why I hadn't prevented it. The tension returned with interest.
Later that afternoon, Loki sent me out to an appointment he'd set up for hair and makeup, which was thoughtful of him but it was just something else to endure. When I changed into the dress, I had to change into thong panties so there wouldn't be VPL, which I hated because thongs always make me feel like I have a wedgie. Loki gave me a once-over, nodded, and fastened the choker around my neck. It felt too snug although it didn't look nearly as tight as it felt. He looked very distinguished in his tuxedo. Too soon, people started to arrive. The press arrived later, by which time it was hot from too many people and there were a lot of people per capita that I didn't really want to see. Constance came with Tony, the Avengers arrived. Steve arrived with a date for each arm, which I hadn't expected and was not all that pleased to see. I kept my face pleasant and thanked everyone for coming. There were some bright spots; Peter and May arrived, and my former assistant Eliza. Pepper showed up with her husband, whom I'd never met. One of my favorite reporters was there with good questions. The other reporters got their quotes and spent the rest of their time sucking down champagne and sucking up to the Avengers and the society names. They looked at the jewelry only to get a picture for their publication that might or might not run. It was stressful; most people didn't look at the jewelry much, but at least I didn't embarrass myself. It was tough, though. When Steve came to congratulate me, one of the society women attached to him said condescendingly that my work was "cute" and that she was sure there was a market for it. She, herself, preferred cleaner lines, more minimalism in the approach. Bigger diamonds. Steve looked at me nervously, but I merely thanked her for coming. It was a relief when people started to leave. Tony came up, briskly congratulated me, accepted my thanks for the party, patted my shoulder, and told me to ignore the stuff in the paper. Constance kept her distance.
I told Loki he could leave early as thanks for all his help, and he changed into a suitable outfit for clubbing with his new friends from classes. The caterers finished vacuuming hors d'oeuvres out of the rugs and left with a tip for their excellent work. I locked the door behind them and sat, trying to relax, before changing out of the silk dress.
I went on patrol again. My neighborhood had plenty of crime reporters wanting to talk to me. All I could say is that I tried to make things better for people, but that I couldn't save everybody; I couldn't be everywhere, no one could. I didn't see anybody doing anything illegal, probably because of all the reporters, and I just hoped I didn't miss something.
Finally I gave up and went home. It was a nice night for a walk, cold and refreshing. My tension ebbed and I tried to let all the problems drop away. Some of it I couldn't control, like my asshole half-brother, but there was no way I'd apologize for not going to see his father or to the funeral. I owed them nothing. The party was over and it seemed to go well enough. I was going to have to have words with Tony, though. His intent was kind, but I really resented how he'd just barged in and taken over an aspect of my business. I knew realistically that one person couldn't stop all the crime in an area, but I still felt badly that somebody had been killed on my patch. The things I had no control over included how my work would be received and whether my business was viable. While it was true I could keep my doors open regardless of the sales, if I was being honest, I didn't want to be a dilettante. I really wanted to succeed. I turned onto my street, trudging wearily, head down, hands in pockets. I needed to start bringing gloves.
"Hey, doll." I looked around, startled. Bucky was sitting on the steps to his porch. They hadn't gotten the gate done, so I just walked up the path and sat next to him. He had a steaming mug.
"Coffee?" I asked hopefully, taking it from him and taking a sip. I almost spit it out. He laughed at my wrinkled nose.
"Green tea," he said, looking at the mug and frowning. "It's supposed to be relaxing and healthy. Tastes like lawn." I smiled a little in agreement. He put his arm around me and I put my head on his shoulder.
"Sorry I wasn't there tonight," he said. "I just..."
"You didn't miss anything," I said.
"I got a picture of you on my phone," he said, showing me. "Elegant dress, beautiful woman. The collar is pretty. ...I just don't like collars much. Steve said that everybody was impressed." Steve was kind. That could mean pretty much anything. "He got caught up by two social climbers," Bucky went on. "He had a hell of a time getting away. Gotta say, a bad reputation is good for something; I never have to deal with that. Even women who want a bad boy never bother me." That was only because they never looked beneath the surface to the man underneath.
"Oh, Bucky, I forgot to tell you--" and I told him what the reporter had said about my half-brother. "I told them that you hadn't threatened anybody, but who knows what the papers will say?" I sighed.
"So what's really got you down?" he asked, waving off my warning. "You can tell me anything. Come on, let me help." He nudged me. So I spilled out all the dreariness.
"It sounds ridiculous and petty," I said, trying to laugh.
"They're real problems to you and they're not nothing," Bucky corrected me. "I can't tell you anything you haven't figured out for yourself, but I also think you're too hard on yourself. You keep thinking that you don't have a right to have hurt feelings or resentment, but you do. You might literally be bulletproof, but you can be hurt, and you shouldn't try to fool yourself that malicious people don't hurt. Some things you can do something about and some things you can't, but don't lie to yourself, because damage accumulates."
"You're a smart man, Bucky," I said and rubbed my cheek on his shoulder. "I'll have to call Tony and tell him to keep his hands off my business."
"See?" he kissed the top of my head. "You'll feel better." We sat in silence awhile. "So why don't you tell me what's really bugging you?" he asked gruffly.
I wasn't going to. "Steve," I heard myself saying, slightly horrified at myself. "He showed up with two women! And I know, we're not married, I don't have a right to be hurt, but two women, Bucky!" He snorted back a laugh. "Bottle blonde, petty, plastic, patronizing..." I muttered.
Bucky gave up the fight, a big gorgeous laugh erupting. "Doll, those two remoras latched onto him and he couldn't shake them without making a scene, which he didn't want to do at your opening. He wasn't impressed by them and he's not dating either one." He gave me a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. "Go to bed, sleep tight. You can even have my tea to help."
I screwed up my face. "Nice try. You're going to have to drink your grass clippings by yourself." I got up and so did he.
"Nah," he said, and dumped it onto the lawn. I snorted and waved goodbye.
The next morning, we bought the papers on the way to work and spread them out before we opened. There was a brief mention of the party in a couple of the papers, but the others had more substantive reviews. One reported admitted to not knowing enough about jewelry to write a critical review, but that it had all looked nice. There were a few photos of the party, and the other reviews gushed about the guest list and said that the pieces were innovative and stylish.
Cute, my ass. I huffed to myself with a small amount of triumph. Loki visited the websites for the publications who had sent reporters, and there were more photographs, including some of me and the jewelry. "Oh, that's a nice one," Loki said; my head was turned in profile, but the picture was from the front and showed the collar clearly. I looked pretty good. "I must see if I can get copies of some of these photographs..."
Loki turned away and I picked up my phone. I called Tony, who picked up on the first ring, thanked him for the party, and told him plainly never to do anything like that again without checking with me first. "This business is important to me," I said quietly but sternly. "I need to do things my way. And I will make your life difficult if you don't respect that, respect me."
I expected justifications and protestations, but he just sighed. "I wanted to do something for you," he said. "And it turned out well, but I can understand why you're upset."
"Wow," I said after a stunned moment.
He laughed. "I may have gone over the top," he conceded. The humor left his voice. "I know this is important to you. I just wanted to help."
Shit. I have a hard time with Tony Stark when he's being sincere. "Just don't do it again," I sighed.
"OK," he said, the usual buoyancy returning to his voice. "So do you want those half-sibs investigated? Because I can courier you a report--"
"Thank you, no," I said, trying to squelch this. I would bet he already had the report from the way he'd phrased things. "Not unless they don't shut up and go away," I said on a sigh. He chortled and hung up.
Loki unlocked the doors and I turned my attention to a bracelet I'd been working on for about a week, off and on. Fiddly little details by the carload. I was quite surprised to see five or six people spill in immediately. I recognized one man from the night before, but the ladies were all new to me. I got up and approached the group at the cases, introducing myself and thanking them for being the first customers.
"I love how the cases are decorated," one woman said enthusiastically. "So creative and imaginative."
"That's all the effort of my assistant, Laurence," I said, smiling. He was busy showing some items to two of the other ladies, but he shot us a quick grin for the compliment.
The man bought himself a pair of platinum cufflinks set with Ethiopian opals and traces of enamel. He didn't quite hit on me, but he did stroke my hand. I noticed his wedding ring and simply thanked him for his purchase and invited him to come again. Anybody who wanted to buy platinum was ok by me. Three of the four women bought pieces. I enjoyed listening to Loki charm them. His sales technique included inviting the customers to imagine wearing earrings or pendants to romantic dinners with their partners or sightseeing in Paris or Milan. It was very effective. I went back to work knowing that the front of the store was in good hands. We had customers trickle in all day. Loki escorted the last one to the door at closing and locked it behind her. He had to hurry to make it to his class on time. I shooed him out and took a look at the receipts. It had been a good day; all the pieces that we sold were low to medium price, aside from the cufflinks. I needed to make more items to sell at those price points. Hopefully we'd be selling enough to make increasing the inventory worth it. Think positively, I scolded myself, and updated the inventory on the computer.
I removed the jewelry from the cases as my insurance mandated and put it all in the safe. I went back to the bench and finished up a tie bar with a demantoid garnet accent and got two pairs of earrings ready for enameling in the morning. I put everything away and closed the safe.