who: open to 6 replies @chqstarter
where: lindsey's boutique
The day had arrived sooner than she'd expected. Lindsey had prepped and planned for so long that now that it was here she wasn't quite sure how to feel. She accepted an offered flute of champagne from a passing waiter, holding the glass carefully as she weaved through bodies and displays alike. The boutique's opening was reminiscent of any number of charity events her parents had hosted over the years, a fact which had not been lost on Lindsey as she'd fought to develop the luxury lingerie line. As she made her way around the store, Lindsey's gaze fell on one of the attendees, glass raising in a toast of sorts. "Enjoying yourself so far?"
i always answer questions in conversation but forget to ask one back and this is why i cannot hold a conversation because my bitch ass is like
them: how are you?
me: good!
them: [clearly waiting for me to ask them back]
me: [wondering if we have any cheesecake in the freezer, wow this silence is awkward...]
--
me two hours later: I DIDN’T ASK HOW THEY WERE BACK
i would like to apologise to every single person i’ve done this to and every single person i WILL do this to in the future. i would LIKE to carry on having a conversation with you and i WANT to know how you are and everything but i...forget questioning exists...
who: @professorarlo
where: outside of body and soul
It had been some time since Lindsey had last visited the spa. With the impending opening of the boutique, and the increasing demands of designing a new line, Lindsey had found herself neglecting her own self care. It had felt like one more thing that she'd had to complete, but she'd woken up that morning, seen the bags under her eyes, and promptly scheduled an appointment for a facial and massage. It was just her luck that her favorite masseuse had been away on vacation, but given the dire straits she'd found herself in, Lindsey hadn't afforded herself the ability to be choosy.
She stepped out of the spa, feeling more refreshed and rejuvenated than she had in weeks, and promptly wished she could turn on her heel and walk back into the storefront. That would only signal weakness, though, she thought to herself, chin inching up higher. She was not weak. She had no reason to hide. "Well, wonders never cease," Lindsey greeted, pleasant smile spreading across her face. "What did I do to deserve this unexpected surprise?"
BIRTH ORDER: third and youngest child; two older brothers
FACE CLAIM: Nathalie Kelley
OCCUPATION: CMO of Obsidian Holdings
RESIDENCE: Paxton, AZ
QUOTE: “She has a mouth like unswept glass—-when you least expect it she cuts you.” – Junot Diaz
BIOGRAPHY.
Lindsey Gallagher was born to be an American princess – the perfect addition to the perfect family, easily overlooked, and only brought out when a particularly difficult donor needed a bit more convincing. For all intents and purposes, it should have been an easy job: simply smile and wave while her father, a lifelong politician, shook hands, kissed babies, and made promises that he had no intention of ever keeping. Then she’d marry someone equally as well off, have beautiful babies, and continue the legacy. Easy. But Lindsey was so much more than the things she was born to be.
Ambition is a dirty word when linked to a woman. From a young age, Lindsey knew that if she wanted something outside of the cookie cutter, American royalty story she’d been born into, she’d have to get it herself. Every move she made was carefully calculated, every relationship just another notch in her belt, a debt to be called upon at a later time. Promises were easily made, easily broken, and Lindsey had no qualms about promising the world if it would get her what she craved – a place at the top.
She was supposed to take over as CEO of the family’s foundation, a job that her mother herself had held and carefully groomed the young girl for. A saccharine smile, soft touch, words whispered as lips brushed against jaws – Lindsey could do it all with her eyes closed. She was beautiful, full of life, and she oozed charm. Most would give their dearest treasures for the mere privilege of being in her presence, but she wanted so much more than to be the voiceless plaything of powerful men.
The final straw came, though, at the announcement of Lindsey’s impending engagement. The fiance in question was a junior senator with whom her father had worked and taken under his wing. Lindsey was less than interested in the man, but any objections to the proposed union was met with dismissals from her father. This was what she’d been born for after all.
So, she took matters into her own hands. Whether she earned her place at Yale School of Management or greased the hinges a bit is a secret she’ll never reveal. All that can be said for sure is that this is where Lindsey belonged. It was here that her mind thrived, here where she learned to combine the skills she’d learned from her mother with the strategies need to unlock any business puzzle. She could look at a problem and strategize five ways to tackle it without breaking a sweat.
After graduating, Lindsey had no interest in returning to her family. So, instead, she set her eyes on businesses that would benefit from her expertise. Soon, Lindsey began to build a name for herself outside of her family legacy, her carefully portrayed façade a venus fly trap luring unsuspecting folks in.
Like a carrion bird circling a battlefield, Lindsey has settled in at Obsidian Holdings. She’d been approached by a member, asked to trade secrets on her father and former betrothed for her place there. It had seemed like an easy enough thing to do – Lindsey had no loyalty to either man, and she was acutely aware that her expertise could benefit the company. She is cold and brilliant, her mind a diamond that cannot be owned, and she is determined to solve this newest puzzle that has been set before her.
PLOT ARC.
She’s a poisoned apple. On the outside she is irresistible, but the inside is toxic. She doesn’t see what she does as wrong — she believes that people have choices and eventually they will submit to their baser desires. Paxton is just another town on her conquest list, and the challenge of understanding how to bring the Top Hands down is what she was born for.
The Museum of Anthropology was not Lindsey's usual scene. She was made for the runway with her confident step and arrogant tilt of her chin. Or maybe the boardroom. Either way, she was not made for dusty tomes and bleached bones, but here she was anyway because her brother lived and breathed this place, and seeing as Lindsey could count on one hand the amount of people she genuinely liked, she'd tolerate the mustiness for Lorenzo.
"If you keep hunching like that, you'll turn into every stereotype of the wildly intelligent but socially incompetent academic who lurks in the basement," she chided. To illustrate her point, Lindsey brushed imaginary dust mites from Enzo's shoulder. She loved her younger brother. Her older brothers could fall into a ditch for all she cared, but Enzo was a light in her life, and she was thrilled to be spending time with him. Even if it took her away from all of the last minute preparations for her boutique's impending grand opening. "Don't you get tired of never seeing the sun?"
