a change of tracks

Who: Evelyn and Ian
Where: The Drake Hotel
When: Afternoon

Lunch with Shoshannah had been both enlightening and disconcerting as most of Ian’s interactions with the girl were. The rose colored glasses the girl wore amazed him, and yet garnered a new respect in his eyes for her father. The man had managed to mix himself deeper than most into the worst of the city and yet his daughter remained oblivious. The double life was something Ian could respect leading one himself.

Breaks for meals aside there was still work to be done and Ian found himself in his office after he returned, pouring over the books from the past week. The hotel was doing well, as always, but all the money that went into it was hardly all hotel related. Ensuring that everything still balanced properly in the end and keeping it mostly indecipherable to anyone who did more than just a precursory examination was the tricky part.

Evelyn was anxious -- which, really, wasn't a surprise. In fact it had kind of been her usual state of being since, oh, she had lost track. But the fact that she was quitting today, complicated by the romantic entanglement, certainly didn't help things along. This was, undoubtedly, going to suck, but she needed to do it. Doing what was she was doing now was just unsustainable -- she knew that, she'd known that. She couldn't keep lying to everyone forever, trying to live double lives within the same city that was apparently too small a world for her tastes. Even if the place wasn't connected to the Mafia, even if Ian wasn't connected to the mafia, it still came down to that. And it still came down to this being what she needed to do. It was one of the reflections from last night that still remained clear in her head, even though there was nothing pleasant about the task at hand. Actually, this was only one of the things she needed to do. She also needed to face her family, confess things, and talk to Becky, and face Dutch -- for both making amends and seeing if the job offer was still there. But that was all later, and this was Now. Right damn now, in fact.

She had gotten to work early, after debating when would be best do this (before? after? during her shift?), having decided it was best to just bite the damn bullet and get it over with. She spotted Dolores, greeted her with a smile, and the woman gave her a knowing smile in return as Evelyn headed toward the office. The door was open, and she knocked lightly on the door frame. "Today's my last day," was stated, unequivocally, the moment she had his attention. It wasn't easy, but beating around the bush did nobody any favors, so she figured 'direct as hell' was the way to go.

Ian had looked up when Evelyn knocked, look of concentration shifting to an easy smile at the sight of her. Before he greeted her she made her little announcement and the surprise of it showed on his face. Very, very little actually surprised Ian and somehow this one had managed to catch him completely unawares. “Excuse me?”

There was an inward wince at his surprise, catching him unawares didn't make her feel any better; but she had to just focus and get through it. She didn't like repeating herself, although with as abrupt as the announcement came she wasn't at all surprised that she had to. "Today is my last day," she repeated, a bit clearer, tone even. She was careful not to come off upset or pissed (as such a cut-and-dry statement could be seen), but it was still very much a statement and demeanor that was 'the decision has been made, it's not going to be unmade'. "It's last minute, and I'm sorry for that, but it's still going to be my last day; and I thought it'd be best to tell you now than later."

It took a moment to keep his character intact. Internally he wanted to rage, yell at her for whatever it was she thought she was doing, but his persona wouldn’t be upset that she was messing up all of his games. “What happened?” he finally managed to stammer out without a touch of anger in it, just confused concern. “I know you were looking but..” But this was abrupt. Evelyn had proved she was a true professional, upholding all sorts of standards and definitely not the type to not abide by the customary two-week notice before leaving.

She did actually notice that he seemed off for a bit, but it didn't strike her as the least bit odd. Considering how she was just dropping this little upset, with practically no warning, in a manner that was typically so out of her character, him being off or upset or confused was expected. But expecting it and dealing with it were completely different things. And she was hating herself at the moment for doing this, for putting herself and other people into such stupid and awkward situations because of her lying, but the mantra of 'I need to do this' was mentally repeated in the forefront of her mind. And she knew it: she wouldn't go as far as to call it the right thing to do, as she had no plans on confessing here, but she knew it was something she needed to do. It just didn't make it any easier.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again, struggling with the inclination to continue in a softer, apologetic tone but not giving into it. Distantly, she thought about what her brother said about her keeping things in, about perspective and coming off as a stone cold bitch; and she would have wondered whether she was taking two steps back except that wasn't the main point right now. "I have reasons, some personal, and I'll admit they might be not be great ones. But I am -- quiting today. This is my last shift." She hated that word, ‘quitting’, and there was the briefest of pauses before it before she had continued. She wanted to give more of an explanation, she couldn't help thinking that he deserved a better one. But she knew she wasn't going to confess to the truth, and she didn't want to lie anymore. So no explanation was really the best she could give.

“Amelia,” Ian said, still a little bewildered, but underneath it he was under control. “Come in, have a seat and let’s talk about this.” His tone didn’t indicate that he wanted to change her mind, but that he was worried about something, that as the guy she was dating he had an investment in her personal life.

She had a sick knot in her stomach, the kind that was a heavy weight and made the idea of ducking away into a cave and not coming out very appealing -- she was just that much not looking forward to the looming conversation. She did step further into the office, but she didn't shot the door behind her all the way. Nor did she sit down. She knew herself; at least, she knew herself to know what would make things harder. Drifting into the personal side of things -- even though she knew that needed to be done too, to do deal with her ending the Them issue -- would make things harder. Messier. Because, again, it would come down to him needing or wanting or being owed an explanation, and her not giving it. She knew the situation was going to be awful enough, she could feel guilt weighing on her mind before she even stepped out of Jesse's apartment, but going around in messy circles only to come to that same point was just going to make things worse.

So she kept to professional, and direct, and unfortunately now had the perspective to see how bitchy and cold-hearted she was coming off, "As far the job goes, there's nothing else to talk about. It's my last day, I'm quitting. That isn't going to change." It was a tone that could have had ‘end of discussion’ punctuating it. And she hated that, the way she sounded. And again the word 'quitting' just felt vile in her mouth; but it was, in fact, what she was doing. Going around it wasn't making her feel any better.

“I can understand. Did something happen here at work? I know...you might not want to talk about it, but if something I happened, I need to know.” Ian had on his professional mask, but he let it crack around the edges to show some concern underneath. Below all of that he was already starting to replace the scattered puzzle pieces, quickly as he could to keep the game in check.

"No, nothing work-related. So you don’t need to worry about that." Or, well, some things at work had been bothering her. Some People had remembered her from the restaurant, and would leave packages or cryptic messages for her to deliver, or hold onto while at the desk. Nothing, as far as she knew, especially serious or illegal... but she wasn't an idiot, and she had enough sense to be disturbed by things -- even if they were so small. But that wasn't exactly something anyone with any self-preservation instinct went about pointing out and complaining about. Anyways, she would still be here and doing this even if they had never noticed her. It just wasn't the main point.

"I never planned on staying here long, and I'm choosing to change that track now." And here she paused, because breaking up wasn't comfortable. But she had to spit it out, right? "And, I'm sorry, but... I don't... see you on that track with me." And internally she really, really winced at the phrasing. As far as break-up lines went, she wondered if she was better off sticking with 'it's not you, it's me. Really'.

Ian kept his face passive with the first bit of information, carefully replacing puzzle pieces as they fell in accordance with what she said. She’d already been used to their needs, just as he’d wanted, but they’d yet to really pull her in. There hadn’t been time to do it properly. The other tidbit of information had almost sparked a cool dark laughter. He didn’t care as much about dating her if she was leaving, but the delivery? The way she said it? All of it made him want to cackle out loud with the sheer ridiculousness of it. He was so angry with his games being thwarted that he’d rolled right past angry into sickeningly humored by it all.

Instead though Ian replaced the cool professional look with one of utter disappointment. “I don’t understand,” he said, edging just a twinge of desperation into his voice. “We said when you left that things would start.” Because she had said that, Ian remembered that much.

She knew she had said that. She knew very, very much that she had said that. Or, well, she wasn't sure if it was explicitly her that had pointed it out, but she had agreed to it, right? Or she certainly hadn't done much to protest the idea... in a way that was agreeing to it... right? Well, regardless, it had been one of the first things that had come to mind when she first thought about breaking things off. And hearing him mentioning it, in that tone, it did elicit an apologetic look. Because she felt bad, she really, really felt bad. Regardless of family ties, she believed he had a genuine interest for her, one that she was just crumbling up and throwing back at him right now. "I'm sorry," she offered, a bit of that apologetic guilt slipping through there, but it leveled back into a more even, not uncertain tone, "I know that was said. But... that's not going to happen." And, God, that sounded bitchy. It was bitchy, she was certain; and cruel, and cold. And that apologetic shrug that slipped past her? only seemed to add to the callousness of it. Fuck.

Ian wondered if she had any idea just how good she was. He watched her hold up that mask, letting it crack only a little at his own display of desperation, but whatever she was really feeling was well hidden. She had a knack for this, something that could be cultivated and trained and yet she’d given him no way out of it, no way to change her mind or convince her otherwise. Just a cool, calm collected way out. “Is there nothing I can say that would change your mind about us?” he asked, eager to hear her answer. Perhaps he’d find her again and offer her a real job, one of his caliber.

And there was where she softened a bit, giving him another apologetic, somewhat sad, smile. One that was more genuine to how she felt, even if she doubted it would be interpreted as such. Juxtaposed against how cold she knew she had just come off, she wondered if showing anything now which just come off colder. But she still smiled anyway, "No; I'm sorry." And, seeing as how it was Awkward As Hell staying in here right now, and there now was nowhere to for this conversation to go except in circle, she turned around and stepped back toward the office door. She started to open it but then stopped, glancing back at him, wanting to add something even it'd be likely taken as hollow and insincere after everything else, "I wish you the best -- I mean it." And she did, though she understand that might have been hard to believe. And then she stepped out the door, figuring she could head to the bathroom to collect herself before starting her shift.

Ian grinned inwardly. He’d like her for a reason, and this was it. Even if she was walking out now he’d find another use for her, she was too valuable to just let walk away. “You as well, Amelia,” he said, letting it sound defeated and alone.