However, all readers - sooner or later - find for themselves a literary genre that is fundamentally different from all others. Dancing on Strings by K. Darley (read ebook pdf TXT) đź“–
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to give each of them a good shake.
“So,” Arthur started, his hands cradling his mug. “What brings you to New York this time of year? Isn't this when your company profits most?”
“Ronald gave our division the week off to scour for new ideas,” she reassured, taking a sip of her steaming chocolate. “And New York inspires most, they say.”
“I'm not sure who says that,” he disagreed mildly, “but I do suppose it has its sights.”
Julia smiled. The petite brunette worked for a company called Lindort, which dealt in designing new clothing lines for each season, with winter being the highest-grossing each year. When people get festive, they're more likely to throw their inhibitions to the wind and their money out the window.
In 6 short years, Julia had climbed the management ladder to the second highest in command. Along with 7 others, she was chief designer for the company. If any ideas were pitched, they went to them. Though mostly the company would go with the visionary sights of her small clan of fashion junkies.
“Although, as much as I wanted to come see what New York has to offer, and of course my favourite big brother-”
“Your only big brother,” he interjected.
“-I also have a meeting with a client of ours who lives somewhere in the neighbourhood.”
“Who?”
She grinned, “I'm not at liberty to discuss that.”
Arthur frowned at her. “Fine, keep your little secrets to yourself.”
She laughed and brought the mug to her lips, leaving it there to linger as she revelled in the heat it gave. She sighed, content.
“How's work?” Warmth lingered in her words.
Arthur shrugged, “Can't complain.”
Julia raised a dark eyebrow, and he chuckled.
“Alright, I can.”
She shook her head at his easy confession. She was about to launch into more, wanting to dissect his life in the big apple further, but his phone started vibrating in his pocket and a ringing sound emanated.
He seemed confused for a moment before fishing the object out of his pocket. “Hello?” He asked. The caller ID was unknown.
There was no answer. Not even breathing came from the other side. Again, Arthur repeated his greeting, but was greeted with cold silence.
Annoyed, he pressed the red button and hung up the call. Julia's concerned expression was plastered across her face, but Arthur played it off coolly. The last thing he wanted to do was worry her over nothing and spoil her trip.
“Wrong number.”
Although he knew she was smarter than to believe him, Julia's muscles relaxed and she gave him a smile.
“Anyway, you were going to say?” He picked up, and Julia wasn't so shocked he knew she was about to carry on her informal interrogation about his life.
“Oh, I was just going to-”
Again, the blonde's phone buzzed, this time on the table. He shot her an apologetic smile and Julia's brows furrowed at him in faux annoyance, signalling for him to pick it up.
“Hello?”
“Detective Reynolds?” Came a male voice. He sounded shaken.
“Yes?” He was unsure where this was going.
“C-Chief wants you down to Newport, Rhode Island as soon as you can. You...you gotta see this.”
It didn't leave him with much to go by, but Arthur suddenly had that gut feeling that it wasn't going to be good, as his insides squirmed.
“I'll be there in three hours. I need someone to mail me directions or co-ordinates to my phone.”
“Yes sir.”
Arthur shut the phone off and placed it in his jeans pocket. For a moment he pondered what it could be, but by the tone of the obviously upset officer, he already had a pretty good idea of what it was.
His frown was fixed on his face as he turned to his sister. She already knew. “Julia, I'm sorry.”
“It's fine, go.” She dismissed and slouched back into the black cushioned seats.
“Sorry,” he stood up and kissed her head. “I'll call you later?”
She nodded, her dark curls bouncing. “Sure.”
Arthur slapped a $20 down on the table and left his steaming mug behind reluctantly. He hurried his way out of the shop and back into the blizzard.
The streets of New York were bad enough with all the crazy drivers, but factoring the snow and his impatient driving, he'd be lucky if they weren't going to have to scrape his corpse out of his car from a wreck.
Arthur sighed heavily. One thing was certain. He would not be making it to Rhode Island in the next three hours.
Imprint
“So,” Arthur started, his hands cradling his mug. “What brings you to New York this time of year? Isn't this when your company profits most?”
“Ronald gave our division the week off to scour for new ideas,” she reassured, taking a sip of her steaming chocolate. “And New York inspires most, they say.”
“I'm not sure who says that,” he disagreed mildly, “but I do suppose it has its sights.”
Julia smiled. The petite brunette worked for a company called Lindort, which dealt in designing new clothing lines for each season, with winter being the highest-grossing each year. When people get festive, they're more likely to throw their inhibitions to the wind and their money out the window.
In 6 short years, Julia had climbed the management ladder to the second highest in command. Along with 7 others, she was chief designer for the company. If any ideas were pitched, they went to them. Though mostly the company would go with the visionary sights of her small clan of fashion junkies.
“Although, as much as I wanted to come see what New York has to offer, and of course my favourite big brother-”
“Your only big brother,” he interjected.
“-I also have a meeting with a client of ours who lives somewhere in the neighbourhood.”
“Who?”
She grinned, “I'm not at liberty to discuss that.”
Arthur frowned at her. “Fine, keep your little secrets to yourself.”
She laughed and brought the mug to her lips, leaving it there to linger as she revelled in the heat it gave. She sighed, content.
“How's work?” Warmth lingered in her words.
Arthur shrugged, “Can't complain.”
Julia raised a dark eyebrow, and he chuckled.
“Alright, I can.”
She shook her head at his easy confession. She was about to launch into more, wanting to dissect his life in the big apple further, but his phone started vibrating in his pocket and a ringing sound emanated.
He seemed confused for a moment before fishing the object out of his pocket. “Hello?” He asked. The caller ID was unknown.
There was no answer. Not even breathing came from the other side. Again, Arthur repeated his greeting, but was greeted with cold silence.
Annoyed, he pressed the red button and hung up the call. Julia's concerned expression was plastered across her face, but Arthur played it off coolly. The last thing he wanted to do was worry her over nothing and spoil her trip.
“Wrong number.”
Although he knew she was smarter than to believe him, Julia's muscles relaxed and she gave him a smile.
“Anyway, you were going to say?” He picked up, and Julia wasn't so shocked he knew she was about to carry on her informal interrogation about his life.
“Oh, I was just going to-”
Again, the blonde's phone buzzed, this time on the table. He shot her an apologetic smile and Julia's brows furrowed at him in faux annoyance, signalling for him to pick it up.
“Hello?”
“Detective Reynolds?” Came a male voice. He sounded shaken.
“Yes?” He was unsure where this was going.
“C-Chief wants you down to Newport, Rhode Island as soon as you can. You...you gotta see this.”
It didn't leave him with much to go by, but Arthur suddenly had that gut feeling that it wasn't going to be good, as his insides squirmed.
“I'll be there in three hours. I need someone to mail me directions or co-ordinates to my phone.”
“Yes sir.”
Arthur shut the phone off and placed it in his jeans pocket. For a moment he pondered what it could be, but by the tone of the obviously upset officer, he already had a pretty good idea of what it was.
His frown was fixed on his face as he turned to his sister. She already knew. “Julia, I'm sorry.”
“It's fine, go.” She dismissed and slouched back into the black cushioned seats.
“Sorry,” he stood up and kissed her head. “I'll call you later?”
She nodded, her dark curls bouncing. “Sure.”
Arthur slapped a $20 down on the table and left his steaming mug behind reluctantly. He hurried his way out of the shop and back into the blizzard.
The streets of New York were bad enough with all the crazy drivers, but factoring the snow and his impatient driving, he'd be lucky if they weren't going to have to scrape his corpse out of his car from a wreck.
Arthur sighed heavily. One thing was certain. He would not be making it to Rhode Island in the next three hours.
Imprint
Publication Date: 10-23-2012
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