Chapter Eight
"Caramels are only a fad. Chocolate is a permanent thing." - Milton Snavely Hershey
Vivian leaned against the door, that last image of Mush standing there looking incredibly sexy and so terribly lost planted firmly in her mind's eye. He had looked as if he were thinking disturbing thoughts that he did not want to face. A long silent part of her yearned for him to be thinking about if he'd lost her…but, that was selfish and she pushed that away. All the same, she felt compelled to go to him, comfort him…shaking her head of such things, she moved into the elegant suite Mush's boss had offered so obligingly. It was really quite a wonderful gesture considering how splendid the room was.
She pondered briefly on how close Mush must be to David for him to put them up in this room, if it could be called a room. It was even bigger than their apartment had been; the door to the hotel room leading into a beautiful parlor with two settees upholstered in an emerald green in front of a large fireplace. Staring around, mouth agape, she took in the luxurious furnishings, the walls were a tan, the trimming a mahogany that immediately brought Mush's eyes to her mind. The room felt earthy and warm as she turned around to look at all the small details it held.
There was a small table just inside, a welcome note from the hotel and a few mints in a bowl beside it. The lights on the wall were electric, and the carpet beneath her shoes was soft and it felt as if she were walking on a cloud. She could barely imagine what it would actually cost to rent this room for a night; probably her entire savings.
Nancy came out of the first of three doors that were off the main parlor. "Wesley's asleep." She murmured, taking in Vivian's wandering gaze. "This is the grandest place I've ever been in." The older lady added, following Vivian's eyes to the art above the fireplace.
Vivian replied, thoughtlessly, as she got closer to survey the charcoal sketching, "It's amazing how Mush has acquired this job. He used to simply be a newsboy." She didn't know a lot about art, making chocolates was her creative outlet, but she marveled at the picture; it depicted a street just like any of the ones you'd see in the city, the buildings on either side seeming as tall as the ones outside this Hotel as they went up and up, off the paper as they reached for the sky. The street was crowded with people of every walk of life and yet…not one of them had a clear face. As if it were a dream that never took the time to give faces to the crowd around you. And it represented a typical New York crowd so well it seemed as if the people were moving in the drawing.
"Oh?" replied Nancy, "I did not know he was a newsie."
She nodded as she turned to look at Nancy, "Mhm. With Racetrack, his friend Blink, and David, the owner of this hotel." Glancing back at the picture, she murmured, "We never start out the way we end up."
Nancy smiled, "That's because we change, dear. By actions, events, and our environment."
Vivian found herself shrugging, "I guess some people are more suited to adapting. But, not everyone changes." Her thoughts, of course, turned to her late husband with those words. Or, perhaps, he had changed, but not in a better way-a far worse way, to be exact. Shawn Gallagher had seemed a complete gentleman when she had first met him. Of course, he hadn't shown her the slightest interest, his affections saved entirely for her cousin, Elena. And who couldn't love Elena? A little voice whispered in her mind, the voice that we all carried within us, and the very voice that knew exactly how to destroy you with one swing and yet, it always broke you down one cutting word at a time. "Hmm?" She asked, so consumed in her thoughts that she did not hear what Nancy asked.
Nancy walked over and smoothed a hand over her head, "I said are you going to send a message to Matthew? You are in no condition to go to work tonight, dear. You can afford to miss one shift." Her eyebrows were crinkled as she studied Vivian in concern.
"Sorry. Yes, I'll go see if they can send a message for me in the lobby." Vivian replied, pulling her mind away from the ghosts of the past. She didn't live there anymore, why did she continue to dwell on the things she couldn't change?
The older woman, who Vivian was also owed her life to, smiled, "Tomorrow, we'll run out and get you some dye. Your blonde is coming in."
Vivian waved the comment away, "I'm not worried about that. I'm afraid Barker's might have already found us." Without waiting for a reaction, she checked her pocket to make sure she still had the key before she left the room and headed back down the hall to catch the elevator down to the lobby. She tried, and failed, to keep from looking at Mush's door. There was no light beneath it and she felt disappointment sit in her gut as she assumed he had went to bed.
When she reached the lobby, she saw that both Racetrack and David were still at the counter, talking casually. Aware that these were Mush's friends, she felt self-conscious as she headed towards them. They stopped talking when they noticed her and David looked at her expectantly when she reached the counter, "What can I help you with?" He asked politely.
Neither of them had anything in their expression to show anything other than detached politeness, but she got the feeling they had been discussing her, "Is there any way I can have you send a message for me? I need to inform my employer about tonight's events." She replied, equally gracious to them.
David lightly hit the counter with his hand, "Hang on one moment." He turned and entered a room behind the front desk.
Race shifted his weight as he wrote in a ledger book and glanced at her, "Kid all tucked in?" He asked out of nowhere.
She nodded, just as the elevator behind them dinged and they both glanced up and she felt a thrill as Mush stepped out. He had freshened up and was looking relaxed with his face washed clean and a new shirt on. Unbidden, her eyes fell to the top three buttons that he'd left undone and she felt heat rise in her cheeks as she became aware of the smooth expanse of his chest that was there for all to see. Vivian pulled her gaze up and she met his brown eyes as he looked at her in concern, "Viv? You should be sleepin'. Ya've had a rough night." He told her, stopping a bit in front of her.
Startled at the nickname that she'd never been called, it took her a moment to reply, "I-I was just sending a message to Matthew." Something flickered behind his eyes before she clarified, "My employer. He owns Cain's Candies."
"Ah." Mush replied, nodding his head.
An awkward silence descended, none of them quite sure what to say. When David stepped out, holding a pen and paper, he, too, was aware of the odd tension. "A messenger is on his way over. Write your message on here."
"Thank you." She murmured, sincerely, as she met David's blue eyes. Despite the smile he gave her in response, there was a coldness to his gaze. Instead of being warm as the summer sky, they were as piercing as chips of ice. Ignoring the thrill of alarm, she dipped her head down to write her message.
Race directed his attention to Mush and she couldn't help but overhear as he invited Mush to a dinner party for his engagement. "What was the dinner foah that we went to?" Mush asked, sounding confused.
"That was a dinner for close family and friends." Race said, but his tone was exasperated, "Apparently, Clara needs to launch her engagement to the rest of New York society." He rolled his eyes at this.
"You mean launch you into society." David added, a grin pulling up the corner of his mouth.
Vivian hid her own smile as she signed her name and handed the folded message to David, "Thank you, again."
"I'll walk ya back up." Mush said as she started to leave.
She protested, "You just got down here-"
He ushered her towards the elevator and waved back at Race and David, "It's alright. They'll see me tomorrow."
Defeated, she tried not to think about how pleased she actually was. It didn't matter, there was nothing and could be nothing between them. She had a lot of issues that this man did not need to take on for her. Repeating that in her mind, she sighed as the elevator closed.
"Hopefully, now you can get some sleep. I know it's been a long night for you." He told her, dipping his head down a bit to see her face. His body was close to her, more protective than invading, and it made her incredibly aware of the fact that she spent more of her time resisting this man than she should have to.
Nodding tiredly, she responded unguardedly, "Yes, but I think I'm looking forward more to the bath than the bed."
Mush's laugh caught her off guard as the door opened to their floor and it felt like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. It felt like this night had lasted three lifetimes rather than just a few hours. All of that, the fear and the uncertainty, felt like a pound of lead but just a little bit of laughter seemed to clear it all up. Mush gallantly walked her to her door, a small grin still hovering on his lips, and right before she went to open the door he said her name.
The way he said it, "Viv." Short and informal, possessive and familiar, made tingles of electricity course through her veins. What she would give for him to kiss her here and now.
How easily you are manipulated by a handsome face, once again that voice; that cynical, sardonic voice. "Yes?" She replied, a little uneasy with her own judge of character now.
Looking uncertain, he leaned against the wall beside the door with one shoulder, his scent and warmth enveloping her, "I-…I wanted ta know. Well, the thing is, Race is havin' an engagement party Saturday night and I wondered if ya wanted ta go with me."
Vivian processed the request a bit slowly, taking her time as trudged through the thought of what a dinner party would imply. An evening in the company of Mush, a dress, shoes, an evening with Mush…Immediately, she wanted to say yes. However, Saturday nights and Sunday mornings were her only shifts off and she usually spent the time with Wesley. That in addition to the things she'd need for a night out, it didn't seem like the best time for such a thing.
"Could I…give it some thought?" She finally said her heart unwilling to let her give him a straight no.
"Of course. Take all the time you need to." Mush smiled at her, his face so unfathomably sincere. That face coupled with the amount of goodness he'd shown since she'd met him gave her a tiny bit more confidence in herself.
"Good night." She whispered to him.
"Sweet dreams." Was his reply as he turned back to his own door. Gently, she shut the door and once again leaned against it. Once again, she pictured Mush as she'd just seen him. This time he was happy, hopeful, and so…she was at a loss for words. Straightening from the door, she felt a wave of exhaustion sweep through her. A bath and sleep would help clear her mind. Mush had been more than right when he'd said it had been a long night. She felt years older and at the same time she was as giddy as a school girl.
Taking a step away from the door, she paused as a flash of something caught her out of the corner of her eye. Halting, she slowly stooped to see a small slip of paper just under the crack in the door.
For a moment her heart stopped. Hesitantly, she reached out one shaking hand to pick up the folded paper.
Vivian Gallagher,
The fire was just a little show to wake you up. If you do not pay your debt soon, I'm afraid the main act will be either you or your son. Let's hope we don't have to punish the son for his parents' mistakes.
R. Ridley
p.s. If you are having trouble coming up with the money, there is always an arrangement to be made between a woman and a man.
A/N: Yeah, I know. We are still in the same night as the fire and it's been like four chapters. But, I PROMISE the next chapter will have us going places. Yay! Aren't I awesome for updating so fast? Haha.
Oh, can I just take a moment to thank my lovely reviewers? Quite a few of them have been doing so since the very first chapter and I just adore them. I also love all of you who are just reading this story for pleasure. Though, if you review I sometimes drop in hints of what's to come! *wink wink*
Thanks again! Review, please?
Truly,
Joker is Poker with a J~
Disclaimer: Me. No. Own.
