Take This Job and Shove It

Mayor's Office

Another day, another dollar. Or not. Carter can be spotted coming out of the mayor's office with McNaab patting the young man on the back and shaking his hand. It would almost make for a perfect photo op if any such press folk were standing around. Carter is not dressed in his normal business attire. Instead, he wears a simple t-shirt and jean combo. It's casual and respectable enough to not seem too sloppy. He and Mayor McNaab trade a few quiet words and the exchange looks rather positive from afar. But when it's all said and done, Carter starts to move out toward his desk. Another aide comes by with a white cardboard box for him and wishes him well. All he has now to do is pack. And potentially avoid Fontane.

"No, no, that doesn't work. I can't handle it, Mac - pass it off to someone else. Well, unless you want me to half-ass it in the beginning and…I know it's serious, but what can I say? I'm buying a house! It's going to be fairly time consuming - and you know I've been taking up enough slack for the last three years to justify me taking a lighter load for the next month or…yeah. Cool. Glad you see it my way." Animated, excited, Ivan jabbers away before hanging up the phone as he rounds the corner, a low sigh emitted from him. And though the professionally dressed man looks harried and hassled, he is genuinely happy, so says his smile.

So genuinely happy that instead of ignore Carter, he double-takes when he sees the man. "What's all this now?"

The sound of Fontane's voice makes Carter roll his eyes. He tosses a photo on his desk into the box, miraculously managing not to shatter it. When Ivan approaches, Carter puts on a forced smile. "Well, I'm onto greener pastures. It's just time to move on, you know? I've done my time here and I appreciate all of the opportunities that I've had while working here, but I think I'm going to go into business. And actually put my degree to good use." He doesn't say in what or where. He just leaves it at that. The resignation has gone fairly painlessly up until this point. He opens up his desk drawer and starts to remove his own personal supplies, leaving what his replacement will need.

This certainly comes as a surprise. Granted, Ivan isn't exactly privy to the goings on in Carter's life, but it does seem a bit sudden. And so, he assumes the obvious, blinking twice as his phone is lowered. "Does this have something to do with my sister?" He inquires, curious. After all, Scarlett did ask about whether Carter was talking about her or not. "Because whatever happened is personal, and professional is separate from that. So you don't need to feel as though you need to resign because of that. Unless you knocked her up - in which case, you better get out of the state too…"

The notion of knocking Scarlett up at this point seems a little absurd to Carter and so he laughs. He laughs rather hard. And then he composes himself, shaking his head. "I don't think so. And no, it really has nothing to do with your sister." There's no trace of bitterness or hatefulness in his voice. Just pure, smooth neutrality. He takes the pencils off of his desk and puts them into the box as well, not seeming to care about the clutter. It'll probably just get messed up on the drive home. He'll sort it later. "Thanks for your concern though. No, I'm just not really enjoying what I'm doing here anymore. I think I would do better elsewhere. Besides, you've had this wrapped up from day one, haven't you?"

"Okay. Good. Well then…I can respect that, I suppose." Ivan admits, nodding to Carter then as he crosses his arms over his chest coolly. "No point in being miserable day in and day out and letting yourself waste away. But, heh. From day one?" Here, Ivan arches a brow, looking to Carter with slight derision in his smile. "Five years I've been working for McNaab. Ever since I graduated, I've been with the man. I had to work to get where I am now. I certainly didn't have it wrapped up from day one."

"Well, the image you put out certainly makes people believe you had it wrapped up from day one." Carter doesn't have too much to say to Ivan. It's surprisingly possibly one of the most pleasant conversations they've had between themselves. Carter shrugs his shoulders vaguely and puts his desk calendar into the box. "You'll be a great politician. Me? Not so much. But I think I knew that from the time I started here. So… maybe this'll be a positive change. Anyway." Carter trails off there and looks to Ivan for the first time since they started actually talking. "I'd say it was nice working with you, but."

"I know I will." It's not arrogance, it's fact. Ivan is beyond believing in himself, it's become so concrete in his mind, like his height or weight. "I'll tell you something, my non-friend. Image is everything. Keep that in mind, internalize it, and you'll be much more successful in your endeavors. But what?" Faintly bemused, he waits for the verbalization of the next.

Carter lets out a little chuckle. "Well, do you know what it's like to be your… underling?" He's finally admitted it. He makes a helpless hand motion. "I know there's always been tension between us for whatever reason. Sometimes you weren't the nicest of guys. That's all I'm saying." There it is, laid out in plain English without any other excuses. Carter just doesn't like Ivan and from what he knows, the feeling is mutual.

"For future notice, perhaps complaining to you boss' family members about how horrible they are is not the best way to garner affection from them. Just some food for thought." If he's expecting an apology or justification, he'll find none. After all, this is work. And Ivan had it just as bad, if not worse, when he was climbing up the proverbial ranks himself. The difference between the pair being that, as McNaab wasn't mayor yet, Ivan didn't have the cushiness of City Hall to centralize everything, and Ivan stuck around till one day, it got better.

There's a long pause from Carter before he turns to face Ivan a little more completely. "She agreed with me, you know. I needed a sounding board and she was there." There's another pause, then Carter shrugs his shoulders a little bit. "I've been waiting to do this to you since maybe the second day I started working here." And with that, he balls his fist up as tight as possible and aims a punch right at Ivan's mouth. It only seems fitting, considering the sheer amount of talking the man does.

Ivan staggers backwards under the weight of the hit, and his hand rises to touch at the corner of his lip, now bleeding gently. But once the surprise vanishes, Ivan can't help it - he lets out a laugh of clear cut amusement. "I should sue you for that. Line my pockets with some extra cash. But you're so pathetic, I'd feel bad if I did. It'd be like kicking a retard, over and over again - and that's not my style." He quirks his head to the side then, smile cold and impersonal as he stares at Carter. "How's it feel, Moore? To be a complete and total failure in everything you do? How's it feel to know that you're even a reject in the eyes of my sister?" He doesn't hurt with his fists - he never has. But his tongue is like a sword.

Sticks and stones may break his bones, but words don't seem to be hurting him too much. He opens up another desk drawer after the punch and empties out the contents before simply shrugging his shoulders at Ivan. "Just keep talking, Ivan. That's what you're good at." It seems to imply that's the only thing Ivan is good at. Carter glances down at his mildly reddened fist and then picks his box up, nodding to Ivan. "See you around, Fontane. I wish you the best of luck in everything you do. Who knows? Maybe we'll see each other around. It's a pretty damned small city, all things considering."

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