Chapter One
Mr. Gold sighed. Today, his handy-man Moe French's substitute was going to work on the new building down town that he had acquired last week. Normally Moe French's job was to maintain all of the buildings Mr. Gold owned; but on occasion, when he bought a new building that was in poor condition, he would pay Moe extra to fix the building for him.
That building in poor condition was where Mr. Gold was now. The two story, brick building had formally been a restraunt. But after its owners passed away, the building had been put onto the market, where Gold had purchased it. Only when he had investigated the basement of the building did he realize why he had gotten it so cheap. The basement had a water leakage problem, and the walls had never been finished, so now Mr. Gold was stuck paying Moe French extra to fix it.
Except it wasn't Moe French that was working on it, it was his substitute, one of the handy-man's former apprentices who had agreed to do the favor for him while he was on a cruise as his vacation. While Moe French was an excellent handy-man, his substitutes, especially his apprentices, never were. Mr. Gold always ended up having Moe fix the building after his substitutes were supposedly finished fixing it. And because of this very reason, Mr. Gold was in no mood for his handy-man to be late.
Mr. Gold leaned on his cane and glanced at his watch. The fancy face of the clock read three-twenty. Gold frowned; his handy-man was supposed to be here ten minutes ago. He drummed his fingers on his gold handled cane, and straightened his tie. Still the man didn't show.
"I'll have to have a chat with Mr. French about hiring the worst possible substitutes to take his place while he's on vacation," Mr. Gold muttered angrily as he started towards his car. He was fumbling with his car keys, trying to pick out the one that opened his car door when a cheerful, and surprisingly feminine voice sounded from behind him.
"Sorry I'm late, I had to run," Mr. Gold shoved his car keys into his pocket, a sneer already visible on his face as he turned around to snarl at the feminine sounding handy-man. The sneer dropped from his face the moment he saw Moe French's temporary replacement.
The handy-man was a woman. Mr. Gold couldn't help but stare at her for a moment; despite the dirty appearance; the scuffed up sneakers, old blue overalls and stained yellow t-shirt, she was stunningly beautiful. Her chestnut curls were thrown into a bun at the back of her head, though strands of hair fell into her ocean blue eyes.
Her eyes. He had never seen anything so blue before, and couldn't help but get lost in those blue depths for a few moments before he managed to recover his composure.
"Don't you have a watch?" he snapped at her, forcing his features back into the hard mask he always wore when anyone was around.
"Yes I have a watch," she replied, setting down her bag full of tools onto the pavement. "But I don't have a car and I just got the call from dad this morning, his other substitute backed out on him". She stuck her hand out to shake his, "I'm Belle French. Moe's Daughter".
Mr. Gold stared at her hand for a moment as if she might strike him, but then he reached out and shook her hand, a tingle running up his arm from his hand touching hers. "Mr. Gold". He said. She smiled at him; butterflies erupted in his stomach, why was she smiling at him like that?
"So this is the building?" she tilted her head towards the former restraunt, and he nodded.
"Please follow me Ms. French," he said, and headed towards the double doors at the front of the building, Belle picked her bag of tools up again and followed him. When he managed to get the door open, he held it open for her, once again resulting in a smile from her, with an added and quite disturbingly cheerful "thank you".
He followed her inside, letting the door fall shut behind him before he reached over and flicked the light switches, bathing the combined waiting and dining room in bright artificial light. Belle's eyes widened at the room and her smile broadened.
"It's beautiful in here," she said, glancing back at him, almost as if she were waiting for him to agree with her.
"It was an Italian restaurant before it went on the market," Gold explained, gesturing to the Italian decorations adorning the walls, tables and bar. "But I'm afraid the basement is another matter".
Belle nodded in understanding, though the grin remained plastered on her face, "A bad leak, and unfinished walls right?" Mr. Gold placed his cane in front of him and clasped the handle with both hands.
"Yes, now please follow me, the stairway is in the back of the kitchen," he told her, then turned and started for the kitchen on the other side of the room.
After passing through the kitchen, Gold opened the door at the back of the room that led down into the retched basement; allowing Belle to once again go first when the door opened.
"You're a true gentleman Mr. Gold," Belle complimented him as he began to follow her down the stairs, internally cursing his bum leg as he grasped the railing, trying not to fall on the old, wooden steps.
Gold snorted, "I believe that the rest of Storybrooke would disagree with you Dearie". Belle turned to face him, and gave him another one of her sweet smiles,
"Well, I guess I'm just extra special then," Belle said. Then she turned back and went down the last step to stand on the messy tile floor. Belle was looking over the basement, fingering through her bag for whatever it was she was looking for when Mr. Gold finally joined her.
"How long do you wager it'll take to fix the basement?" Mr. Gold asked her when she stood up, tools in hand.
"About four or five days. Seven or eight if there's any mold," Belle said. She walked over to one of the pipes sticking out of the tank by the wall and looked at him, her eyes lashes fluttering. "Do you think you could help me with this real quick?" she asked.
Mr. Gold froze, "What?"
"I need someone to hold the pipe in place, while I tighten it, so I can stop the leak," she explained, gesturing to the silver pipe sticking out of the tank that was leaking water. "It will make it easier so I don't have to call Ruby and have her as my second". He relucetntly closed the distance between them so that he was standing right next to her in front o
"I'm afraid I'd have to confiscate your tools if she set foot in the basement," Gold said, trying not to show his discomfort at being so close to Ms. French.
To his surprise, Belle giggled, "I can't blame you, she's a tad clumsy with tools". He felt a glowing heat in the pit of his stomach when Belle took his hand and placed it on the pipe. She looked him in the eyes, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. "Place your other hand on the upper part of the pipe, and push them together so I can get the bolts in and tighten them so that the pipe doesn't leak". Obediently, he let his cane lean against the tank, and did as she told him.
Every time her hands brushed against his as she tightened the bolts, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest. This was ridiculous, he hadn't even known the woman for more than a few minutes and yet he had already developed a small crush on her.
No! He thought, forcing himself to stare at one of the bolts instead of her lovely face, he wouldn't be the old cripple lusting after his handy-man's daughter. Besides, the poor woman was just being polite and doing her job, she wasn't trying to make him feel anything, but satisfied with her work.
The moment she told him she was done working on the pipe, he dropped his hands and grabbed his cane, fully prepared to walk back upstairs to leave her to her work.
"I didn't pinch you with one of the bolts did I?" she exclaimed, eyes wide with worry, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.
Gold swallowed hard, "No, of course not Dearie. The pipe was just cold". Even to his own ears, that excuse sounded utterly pathetic. Belle didn't seem to catch this though, for the moment he said it, she smiled and clasped her hands together in front of her.
"Next time you can borrow my gloves if you want, I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable helping me," Belle said, she gestured to the dark brown and surprisingly large gloves lying on top of her tool bag.
"Next time," he echoed, his grip on his cane tightening.
"Yeah," Belle's smile faltered slightly, "I need help with the dry wall, it's always been a two person job, or at least that's how I was taught . . ." she trailed off and then looked at him with hopeful eyes.
He should refuse. He bossed people around and made them quiver in their shoes whenever he approached, especially his renters. He didn't help out his employees. But those darn eyes of hers! "I'll be here tomorrow at the same time, don't be late," he told her, silently cursing himself for having even spoken. He should have just turned around, without having said anything. Now the bloody woman could tell everyone all over town how she got Mr. Gold to help her dry wall a basement.
"Great," Belle chirped when he turned around to start up the stairs, "By the way I love your accent, it's very charming".
Gold just about choked when those words left her pretty little mouth. He turned to face her, stunned. She giggled innocently at his expression. "Don't look so shocked, there's not many people in town with a cute accent".
"It's a small town," he managed, slightly breathless, "I should be going, rent to collect." She nodded and smiled at him again, before turning back to take measurements of the wall.
"See you tomorrow Mr. Gold," she called as he went up the stairs. At the top, he choked out a small goodbye and hurried out of the building as fast as his bum leg could manage.