Moore Money, Moore Problems - Chapters Twenty & Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty
FNF #87: The Kiss by Klimt
“We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming and will return to it as soon as possible, but, first, an emergency press conference has been called by none other than Port Charles' own Edward Quartermaine, founder and current CEO of ELQ.”
And, with that new bulletin, his streak of three days without the utterance of the name Quartermaine came to a screeching halt. Ignoring the television above him, Jason bent further over his accounting books, intent upon ignoring whatever it was Edward felt he needed to share with the world. Not only had he been enjoying his break from his newly discovered biological family... though he had to admit that it was probably too good to be true, but he really had no interest in watching the old man congratulate himself on making some more money or taking advantage of yet someone else. While he wouldn't go so far as to take the time to mute the TV - after all, Edward didn't even deserve that much of his time or attention, he certainly wasn't going to stop what he was doing and watch either. But then he heard his own name... or at least an unfortunate version of it.
AND
Chapter Twenty-One
FNF #88: “I'm not strong enough to stay away. What can I do? I would die without you. In your presence, my heart knows no shame. I'm not to blame. Cause you bring my heart to its knees.” ~ “Not Strong Enough” by Apocalyptica
It was hotter than the crispy-fried insides of a Quartermaine Thanksgiving turkey, and the last place Elizabeth wanted to be was outside. To make matters worse, she was in the Port Charles park. One would think that all the stupid natury stuff surrounding her would make the heat more bearable, but it didn't. The fact that the trees weren't moving at all mocked her, because, in that moment, she should have been on the back of Jason's bike, the sparkly - hey, it wasn't her fault if her husband shined his damn motorcycle so much that it twinkled like polished silver - machine capable of creating the breeze the elms, oaks, and maples surrounding her refused to. The shrubs felt too big, too close to the sidewalks as if encroaching upon her walking space, and don't even get her started on the bugs. They made the already heavy air heavier, almost making Elizabeth wish she had worn a pair of stilettos so that the pointed toes could cut through the swampy atmosphere, making a path for her.
Almost.
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