Nicole leaned her arms down against the bar, her fingers brushing along the rim of the glass as her eyes settled on the golden brown liquid inside of it. It wasn’t hard to hear the male a few feet away trying to flirt with the woman a few stools down. She blew out a long puff of air, moving her hand up towards her mouth to stifle the laugh threatening to leave her mouth. “Please… Do tell me how many people actually fall for the line you’re so hot, my zipper is falling for you?” She turned to the person sitting next to her, pressing her lips into a tight lipped smile.
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Taking a drink of her whiskey – neat – Esme’s current focus had been affixed to her phone, going through a few emails, marking more important ones she’d need to go through later on at home. Much of the bar had become background noise at this point, though every so often she’d overhear fragments of nearby conversation. One such currently was a pitiful excuse for a pickup line, that the woman beside her caught as well humming for a beat. ❝ Those who clearly have nothing left but desperation. ❞ Gaze flits over towards the duo with some regard. ❝ Which, may be the case here considering she still seems to be giving him attention. Or she’s just blindly drunk, though I don’t think that makes it any better for her sake. ❞
Wes was glad she was taking his tantrum in stride, he would have hated to for someone to call him out on being a toddler in public. Not that it wouldn’t have bee deserved. “Definitely not. It’s for my sister. And I think I’m just gonna get both and let her pick which one is the right one.” He decided, shoving them both into the basket and deciding to deal with Juliana making fun of him later. “I appreciate your help but I realize now that I asked the question without even knowing what answer I needed.” He admitted, chuckling as he rubbed at the back of his neck. He was sure the girl was familiar somehow, but he wasn’t sure if he knew her, kind of hoping that he didn’t actually as most of the women in Crescent Harbor hated him for one reason of the next. “I’m Weston, by the way.”
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A genuine interest flashed over her features with a smile to match, and delicate chuckle slipping out at the confirmation the shopping trip hadn’t been for him, but in fact his sister. Sparking a moment of fondness as she thought of her own brothers back home. Picturing either of them in a similar situation for her was amusing. ❝ Well I’m glad I could offer a little assistance, getting both and letting her choose is probably the smarter decision. At least then she can’t be upset that you ended up picking out the wrong one, especially if she didn’t clarify which to get in the first place.❞ Pointing out with a nod, her tone carrying a light tease with her words. ❝ Esmeray, though informally I just go by Esme. Nice to meet you. ❞ Extending a lithe hand for him to take. ❝ Any chance you mind a shopping partner ? Even if décor isn’t your forte, I could still always benefit from second opinions. ❞
While he had dalliances here and there with capriciousness within his personal life, Saint Bayrak liked to keep most things predictable. Or, at the very least, at a level of careful calculated risk. But as he strode into his office, bouquet of flowers his assistant had secured in hand, he found the sight that greeted him at his desk, all dark eyes and delicate features, was none of those things.
“Esmeray.”
It took more effort than he would have liked to keep his expression serene, lips twitching in amusement as he regarded the beautiful ghost of his past. As expected, his memory hadn’t done her justice, and Saint took a moment to simply take her in, from the deceptively innocent looks to the barely concealed anger simmering beneath her smirk. While Saint had never been one to second guess his choices or hold regrets, it would be a lie to say that he hadn’t considered it a shame to leave their relationship. What had originally intended to be a simple courtship as a means to an end had become a surprising discovery of the woman before him — perhaps one of the few people he thought could understand him. If he had let her.
But he hadn’t.
His gaze followed hers to the flowers, a corner of his mouth lifting in a boyish smile. “Yes, beautiful,” he agreed. Unbothered by the fact that she was sitting in his chair, Saint walked over, extending the bouquet, as if it had always been meant for her. “They match your eyes.”
There was a partial shift in adjustment on the seat – his seat – swiveling gently from side to side, keeping herself very comfortably planted still. After all it didn’t seem as though there’d been any objection to the fact, not that it would’ve exactly mattered. As far as any outwardly appearance goes at least. One that, for a beat she allowed her own eyes to inspect with a subtle, or maybe not so much, consideration for the first time in quite a while, head canting towards the right.
That is until, she spotted movements in stride coming closer, snapping her vision back upwards to meet his gaze for a mere instance as it shifted over to the bouquet, now being held out for her to take. The gesture, coupled with his words caused the wicked curvature of her lips to falter slightly. Opening a slivered crack in her resolve she’d been otherwise able to cling to with a white-knuckled grip born from the spitefulness that brought her here in the first place. Except she hadn’t expected to be met with the haunting déjà vu of a moment that could be recounted many times, formerly bringing about feelings of adoration. Now leaving her warily unsettled, more so by the sudden thump in her chest, she vied heavily to ignore.
Willing a self-assured smile back to her features, Esme took the flowers, clearly knowing well they couldn’t have been for her to begin with, airy chuckle billows out both humorous and not. ❝ Still ever the charmer – teşekkür ederim hayatım. ❞ The nickname rolled off her tongue with a sharp lilt among softly spoken Turkish. Whether she would actually bother to keep the truthfully stunning arrangement, or perhaps toss them upon her exit, was yet to be determined.
A brief pause as she sat back in the chair, laying the bouquet across her lap lightly. ❝ I would ask how you’ve been, but — ❞ Would she even grant him the courtesy ? Even when behind shields of fire and ice was a budding curiosity. ❝ It seems I already have my answer. ❞ Motioning to the office around them then. ❝ Chief operating officer of Blackwood Industries, vay, vay, vay... congratulations are in order. ❞ Though she wouldn’t explicitly give them herself. ❝ Suppose I can see why you didn’t stick around for long after your previous position. ❞
Jacob walked into the diner with his eyes glued to his phone screen reading his emails, he lifted his eyes long enough to find a table and took a seat, he was read through two more emails before looking up in search of a waiter, the door opening caught his attention out of reflex as he recognized the man walking in, his eyes quickly scanned the diner, he spotted someone else sitting by themselves and he rushed to take the seat in front of them. “I’ll pay for your breakfast just please follow along,” He whispered as he settled on the chair and looked at the other person with a smile and mumbled nonsense, sure enough he saw the man approaching out of the corner of his eye and call out to him, Jacob looked up at the man with a fake smile. “Oh hey! Is so nice to see you man but… this is a business meeting, why don’t you text me and we’ll talk about it.” Jacob said as he stood up to shake the man’s hand before sitting back down. “Thank you, I owe you.”
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The sudden appearance of someone sitting across from her, didn’t have as much of a surprising affect as it did swirl up a mix of confusion and slight irritation at having her breakfast disturbed. However hearing the murmured plea to play along, brows that were once knitted together quirked with a pique of interest. ❝ You do know it’d probably help sell this plan of yours better if you tried to have a more engaging conversation. ❞ Esme remarked, though still kept her voice low enough, that others around wouldn’t have been able to discern it from a normal conversation. Eyes flicker upwards when another person approached, pivoting between both men, pleasant grin curving over her features, before adding onto his excuse. ❝ Due diligence, as boring as it is important, though I promise I’ll try not to keep him away too long. ❞ Once the brief encounter was over with and the other man sat back down, she took a sip of her coffee, still warm, humming. ❝ And what is it you’re offering — apart from paying for breakfast which, not necessary but appreciated — just so I can decide if I want to collect on it now or save for later. ❞
location; organized chaos
with; open @crescentstarters
“What in the fuck is the different between tulle and chiffon?” Weston cursed under his breath, really regretting his decision to go to the stupid décor place for his sister. He pulled his phone out to text her pictures of the two items before shoving it back in his pocket angrily, huffing loudly like a fussy toddler. If his baby sister hadn’t been the light of his life there was no way in hell he would be inside this stupid store looking for different sized storage containers and the decorative shit she wanted to cover them in. He waited a moment before glancing back at his phone to see that Mirabella hadn’t responded and yanked both options off the shelf. “I hate this store.” He turned around to see someone standing in front of him looking all too amused by his tantrum. “Oh. Shit. Uh, hey do you know what the difference is between these two identical looking fabric things?”
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While she’d already gone ahead and ordered quite a few things online already for her new home, Esme took a trip to organized chaos anyway to see what decorative essentials she could just pick up now. Moving through various aisles with a cart already partially filled with few items including throw pillows, candle wall sconces, and various other items of her taste. Perusing over a shelf at the moment, she overheard the man nearby seemingly in a huff over not being able to distinguish the two materials in hand. ❝ Well with the attitude I’m sure the feeling’s mutual. ❞ She commented first, playfully of course, towards the disdain over the store. Entertainment flashing over her expression by the whole ordeal, but she was sure to keep in gentle too. Vision trailing down to the fabrics then. ❝ That one – ❞ Pointing towards his right hand. ❝ Is chiffon, which is a lot more smooth, and not as transparent as tulle, which is what you have in your other hand. That one is more mesh-like and textured, and not as light. ❞ Explaining a bit, wondering if that offered him any insight. ❝ I’m guessing you’re not shopping for yourself ? ❞
As much as John loved being surrounded by art each and every day, he enjoyed it even more when he knew that there were other people around who would be able to find some sort of appreciation for it, a peaked interest that he could multiply with ease just by talking to them about it. Engaging and encouraging, always trying to generate conversations that’d stick – that was his main approach when it came to managing the gallery. Whenever it got a little busy, John tried his best to ignore some of his desk duties and wandered around instead, always trying to connect with a guest – or a potential client. His eyes fixed on a brunet woman who seemed rather intrigued by one work in particular and he was quick to join her subtly, coming to a halt near her before their eyes met briefly and he was about to ask if he could help with anything when she already hit him with a question that caught him off-guard for a moment. “Oh – well,” John fixed his glasses subtly, clearing his throat as he took in the painting once more, his head tilting as he scanned it with his eyes, analyzing and trying his best to answer her question ultimately. “For one, the composition,” he joked lightheartedly, a soft laugh escaping him before he shook his head. “I’m just teasing of course – I think it’s all in the shapes and the contrast they create. You have these very minimalist, clean shapes in the background that give the picture structure. If you took those shapes away, it would be a lot less dramatic, right? Because there’s nothing amplifying it. But with those rather busy looking shapes that twist and turn in the front – it does seem like the composition was on purpose and – well…rather dramatic and definitely very abstract,” John added with a grin.
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A brow was almost quick to arch at his first reply, which was clear in a jocular manner even before the clarification of such, causing an uptick of a smile at one corner of her lips, chuckling along. Though as the man then continued with a more sincere judgement, Esme found herself listening along intently, vision gliding along the detail of the painting in question. Imaging for a moment what it might’ve looked like without the shapes, thoughtful hum emanating from her throat with a small nod. ❝ That’s very perceptive — and I do see what you’re saying about how the background amplifies the whole piece. I mean even if you took the shapes at the front away, with the color scheme and way the rectangles are designed it still has a similar affect. Though it’d look almost like a more somber Mondrian painting honestly, which would also work for what the artist might’ve been going for. Strange as it is, they definitely flow better together than they would as separate pieces. ❞ Expanding with her own point of view, another light laugh bubbling up just a bit with the latter part of her words, finally turning to actually give him more of her full attention. Mocha hues asses for just a beat, between the way he spoke about the art, and from what she could see in his sense of fashion, he certainly seemed like someone with a refined appreciation for culture. ❝ Follow up question; do you think it’s too dramatic to fit with a Mediterranean style interior ? ❞
There were a number of ways she could’ve gone about this, ranging from a methodical approach, to simply giving in to that simmering indignation brought about by memories of once upon a time. Ultimately landing on a choice that leaned somewhere closer to the former, with a resonance of her father’s words on the art of tact. So there she was, stepping into the lobby of Blackwood Industries, various people flitting about carrying on with their business, not batting much of an eyelash to her occupancy. Perhaps it was the aura of confidence that, like them, she was meant to be here, in her mind at least that rang true. Though it happened to be a world in which she lived daily as well.
Esmeray managed to inquire where the COO’s office was located, weaving a small tale that she’d been expected. It seemed he was elsewhere at the moment, which did little to deter her insistence. Once inside, mocha hues attentively inspected the room, unsure whether to be more annoyed or impressed by the level of achievement he garnered. In any case she was quick to move behind his desk, making herself comfortable in the chair, vision idly peering over the bit of folders and paperwork on top. Putting no effort into prying, not yet at least, especially when just minutes after her own arrival the door swung open. Eyes lift to meet him, taking in the expression on his face at her presence, coy smirk upturning. ❝ Merhaba, Saint bey. ❞ Her words flowed calmly, but the undertone that carried them hinted on condescension.
A small beat before. ❝ You know, it’s rude to keep a girl waiting. ❞ As if a) she’d been there long, and b) he was even aware she’d been in the same time zone, let alone here. Focus drifts to the flowers in hand with a sculpted brow arching suspiciously curious. ❝ How beautiful. ❞
Since her arrival into town, Esmeray had made a note in a few points of interest to herself, one such that she’d yet to venture into was the art gallery. Pleasantly surprised to find out that there’d even been one here, even more so when stepped into the building. It seemed moderately busy at the moment, dark hues peering around the interior as she made her way through, landing on various pieces of work and those who were equally surveying. While the main cause for her visit was thanks to an intrigued appreciation for art, the woman might’ve also been in the business of acquiring any that spoke to her enough. After all as it stood her home was only currently holding the bare essentials in furniture and décor. Motions come to a slow halt as she found herself in a small exhibition, focused momentarily on an abstract piece titled Composition Dramatique. Head tilting to the side in regard at the rather thought-provoking design of shapes against muted colors. Feeling a presence walk up not long after, eyes flicker for a beat but she doesn’t move her fixation yet, instead deciding to spark conversation by gauging an opinion. ❝ I know the message isn’t always meant to be so literal but — what do you think makes this specifically dramatic like the name suggests ? ❞
It was a rare occurrence for Alexandra to be in complete shambles, rushing at the last minute to get to work. Usually she was an early riser, always on time with coffee and croissants to boot, but today? It was a completely different story. She’d overslept after staying up until 3AM thanks to pregnancy cramps, and at this point, she had a feeling that she was going to be late to her first appointment. Nevertheless, she hurriedly walked down the street towards her office, looking completely disheveled and at that point, she didn’t really care. It didn’t take long until she accidentally bumped into someone, causing her to drop the folder she’d been holding, an array of papers scattering across the sidewalk. “Oh lord… I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going… I hope you’re okay.” She apologised profusely as she kneeled down to collect her files before murmuring to herself. “Great. It’s a big fat happy sunshine day for me.” — @crescentstarters.
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While Esme didn’t know exactly how long she was planning to be here, the timeframe for now remaining at unforeseen future. She figured it’d probably be useful then to at least get to know a semblance of this place, spending a good chunk of the morning navigating around from her new abode in Sunstone. It was certainly a far cry from Istanbul – or most cities she’s visited, admittedly there was an essence of appeal she didn’t mind. For now she was focused on finding the nearest café, in need of a small fix, while partly focused on her phone. Having gotten the okay from her brother to go ahead with the proposal for the bout of meetings scheduled with the Seattle company this weekend. Before another body was colliding with her own, luckily the device was iron clad in her hand, but for a brief moment a flash of irritation forms. Unseen however when she took a small breath, especially after hearing the apology, allowing a saccharine smile to curve. ❝ I’m fine, don’t worry about it. ❞ Brushing off, collecting a few papers that were scattered by her own feet, handing them over and returning the inquiry. ❝ Are you alright ? It doesn’t sound like it’s really been your morning so far. ❞
what’s up guys it’s me, actual dumpster fire ari. i know what you’re thinking .. this bitch again really ?? sdklfj this will prob be the last one though i promise lol so please come throw any and all plots / connections my way <3
INDEPTH. ( trigger warning for mentions of: illness )
esme was born and raised in istanbul, with the extreme fortune of coming from the koç family, one of the most affluent in turkey thanks to the empire business built by her great grandfather; koç holding.
she’s the youngest of four, and the only daughter, to yusuf and damla, her father being a big business exec, obviously, and mother a former actress/model turned socialite. damla was thrilled that they finally had a baby girl, one she could dote on and treat like little doll.
and for much of esme’s childhood that’s exactly what happened, she wanted to create a miniature version of herself, and did so first by introducing her to the stardom life of a child actress. appearing in a number of films and shows.
despite the fact that she certainly loved all the attention it garnered her, the older she got and ability to truly make her own decisions, the more she realized the path that damla was cultivating for her, wasn’t the one she wanted.
much to her mother’s chagrin she actually idolized her father far more, sneaking into meetings with her brothers and seeing the respect and power he held at the head of the table. the way much of the public admired him going through the streets. it was exactly the type of revere she wanted.
exceedingly clever and intuitive, perhaps too much for her own good, shined brightly in academics, though there were few stints of a superior attitude towards teachers that got her into trouble, nothing that ever stuck of course, graduating top of her class. and sat at the top of the food chain in social hierarchy.
come university time she majored in business admin, to nobody’s surprise at this point really, obtaining her BBA. with a long list of job offers, especially the marketing firm she interned for, but turned all of them down to join the family business instead alongside her eldest brother. while the other two were off on their own career ventures, which meant more room for her to thrive.
even though she’s a daddy’s girl, when it comes to business yusuf is the farthest thing from lax, meaning esme had to start at the bottom like any other employee, and work her way up. she had no issue proving herself of course, and that she certainly did, climbing the ladder, steering the company in a greater light with her work in philanthropy also aiding that edge. effectively impressing a lot of the higher ups and catching the attention of few members of the board even. securing her current position as marketing director.
did she maybe pull a little underhanded things to help her along the way though ?? i mean who’s to say really ... yes.
recently her family learned that her father had been diagnosed with stage 3 COPD, an illness he’d known himself about having prior technically but kept hushed till it began progressing and doctors urged him to take it more seriously. so yusuf has since stepped down from his position as CEO handing the company to her brother barış, in a press release to the public merely saying ‘ it was time. ’
loyalty and trust are two solid foundations in their family, and while she keeps to those, and loves them deeply, she isn’t gonna pass up the advantage of her brother being on the throne and already basically being his right hand in all things, slowly but steadily making it so she’ll be the one really calling the shots.
a big reason she’s in washington now, they’re looking to expand the companies reach further and have been in talks with a business in seattle about partnering or buying them out. here with another exec to keep negotiations going that haven’t fully been in their favor, which is why she’s already persuaded her brother to begin a hostile takeover soon.
why she’s in crescent harbor though ?? she found out someone of just as great an interest to her is here, @saintbayrak . the two of them had a whirlwind romance that almost teetered on the verge of marriage, except, and unbeknownst to her rn, her father offered him a higher position to break off the relationship, which he gladly took. leaving esme heartbroken and scorned ever since. so she bought a house in sunstone deciding to stay here while working, and with a newfound incentive to remain as long as she sees fit.
her personality in short — spoiled rich girl with a dangerous ambition, slight manipulative and unhinged behavior hidden behind an outward charm and innocence.
