Sitting in the back room of her father's shop, Belle sat on a stool at one of the workbenches and went through the account books for the business. She could not believe how her father was on the point of bankruptcy. The accounts went up and down so much, Belle felt like she was on a rollercoaster as she read his books, hoping she could find some hope in them. The business made money, which was a definite. There was a big chunk of money taken out of the company every now and then, labelled 'loan from company'. The only problem was the money was not being put back into the company.
Belle shook her head and jotted down on her notepad another entry she found for 'loan from company', disbelieving the amount. She told herself she was going to be having words with her father that evening. This had to stop otherwise he would lose everything. They would lose everything.
Heavily sighing Belle stood from her stool and walked over to the kettle, filled it with water and placed it on its stand to set it off to boil. She ambled across to the doorway to the front of the shop. Holding her hand leisurely on the doorframe, Belle opened her mouth to speak to her father from where she stood, but stopped seeing her father talking to 'him'.
As much as she had tried to avoid him, no matter where Belle went in Storybrooke, Mr Gold always seemed to be there or followed her into places. She knew it was because it was a small town, but that did not stop her annoyance of him. They never spoke. Did not acknowledge one another as they passed in the aisles of shops. Keeping themselves to themselves. Belle much preferred it like that. However much she was tempted to give him a piece of her mind, telling him how despicable she thought he was, releasing her hatred of debt collectors at him, she never said a word to him.
"Mr Gold, please," Her father pleaded at him, causing Belle to pull a face of disgust at the scene. "Don't take my truck! If you take it, then I can't get more stock and get your money."
Mr Gold grinned at her father. "I asked you at the game, are you sure you want to do this? You just smiled at me, told me you had me and put my money on the table."
"Please!" Maurice implored grabbing hold of Mr Gold's suit jacket lapels.
"Hey!" Mr Gold shouted and broke out of Maurice's hold. "If you don't have the money to gamble with, then you shouldn't have played."
Belle closed her eyes, holding back the tears, disappointed with her father. It killed her to see her father had not changed. After plead, after plead, he still would not stop gambling their money away. The horror of watching through the banisters at one of their houses, as a man had beaten her father for failure to pay. It had only stopped when Belle had jumped onto her father to protect him and begged the man to stop, who subsequently left seeing the young girl in tears.
As she heard another plead from her father to Mr Gold, Belle opened her eyes and moved into the room saying. "How much does he owe you, Mr Gold?"
The two men turned to face her, her father more startled than Mr Gold at her presence. "Eight grand."
"Eight grand!" Belle repeated, flabbergasted at the amount. Her father cowered away from her, seeing the look of revolt on Belle's face.
"Yes, Miss French." Mr Gold said as he clasped his hand in front of him, rocking on the balls of his feet.
She shook her head as she spoke. "We don't have that kind of money."
"Which is why, I will take your father's truck as payment." Mr Gold informed her, his gaze focused over her shoulder, unwilling to look her in the eye. Just the same old behaviour of any debt collector. Guilty to look her in the eyes whilst they took her belongings to pay her father's debt.
"That isn't going to help. As my father said, if you take his truck then he won't be able to earn to repay you or the rent at the end of the month." Belle gestured to her father, dreaming that the back of hand connected with her father's cheek.
"That isn't my problem, Miss French." Mr Gold shrugged his shoulders at her, dismissing the problem.
Her father clasped his hands together, holding them out to Mr Gold beside him. "Please, Mr Gold, don't take my truck!"
"Father!" Belle scowled at him. "Go in the back. I will sort this with Mr Gold."
"Belle, I…" She interrupted him by holding her hand up to him, silencing him. Maurice's head and shoulders dropped as he stalked pass Belle, disappearing into the back of the shop just as she had commanded him. Rubbing at her left temple, Belle took a step towards Mr Gold, standing almost where her father had.
She bit at her bottom lip as she dropped her hand from her temple. "I can't afford to pay that debt and neither can he."
"Okay," Mr Gold said, his fingers played with the ring on his right hand. "So what would you like me to do with his debt?"
"The only thing I can offer is my services." Belle stated at him.
His brow scrunched at her statement. "Services?"
"You know, helping at your shop, with your business or cooking and cleaning." She explained to him, the tension on his forehead eased as she spoke.
"Sorry, dearie, but I have no need for any of those things." Mr Gold told her, wavering his hand flippantly through the air between them.
Belle's eyebrow rose, when a thought came to mind. "You need a tutor."
"Excuse me?" Mr Gold frowned at her, the lines across his forehead deep.
"I'm guessing you're having problems with… Albert?" Belle paused and waited until he nodded his head at her. "Getting him to study. I could tutor him."
He turned his face slightly away from her, his frown deepening as he thought about her proposition. "You'll tutor my son to pay your father's debt?"
"Win, win." She told him with a smile.
"How do you figure that, Miss French?" Mr Gold asked her. His eyes seemed to be studying her, probing her to see if there was a hidden agenda.
"You can have peace of mind knowing someone is making him study and I'll be paying our debt." Belle shrugged her shoulders at him, thinking it was obvious how they both won, even though she wished she were getting one over on him.
His frowned eased from his forehead, as he said. "Okay, but this is not your debt. This is your father's debt."
"It doesn't matter, whether it's his or mine, I always end up paying for it." Belle told him and witnessed a change in his demeanour for a second. There was a flicker of emotion in his eyes. A warmth had escaped from underneath his mask at her confession. Just as quick as it had shown, it was gone again.
He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, retrieving a business card to hold out to her. "Here's my details. Albert is normally home from school at half three to four. I'll inform him you'll be meeting him at the house after school."
Belle took the card from his fingers. Their fingers brushed against one another as she gripped the card. His skin was warm and the tops of his fingers were soft. He yanked his hand away and quickly shoved it into his pants pocket. She watched him, lost for a second before he spun around to the door and went to it. Mr Gold quickly opened the door, but misjudged the distance and caught himself with the door. Holding back a giggle, Belle noticed his cheeks turn a deep shade of red, his embarrassment evident. Clumsily he smiled at her and left, closing the door behind him. His behaviour intrigued her. The man gave over the impression he was impervious, a strong and capable man. For a moment, Belle had seen a hint there was more to Mr Gold than the handsome debt collector who was hounding her father.
She studied his business card. The thick card had bold print of 'Mr R Gold' printed across the middle, with his home and business address and phone number printed underneath in a smaller font. There was smell to the card, which drew her to hold it near her nose. The card smelled citrus with a spicy element to it. Tapping the card against the knuckles of her other hand, she headed into the back of the shop. Her father stood making a drink, stirring the cups, as Belle retook her stool at the workbench and leant onto the bench, studying the card closer. Belle mumbled a thank you for her tea with her eyes fixated on the card.