"What kind of deal?" I advanced suspiciously towards Molly. She's dressed nicely in a jacket skirt set, which signals that she works in an office, but the skirt's short positioning wouldn't be seen on any self respecting working women.

She either sleeps with her boss or came here playing dress up.

After flashing me another smile, Molly replied "A money making deal, but I'm sure your mother doesn't care to hear about it. She needs her rest. Let's talk about this outside."

Molly left the ambulance before I could answer.

I turned to mom. "Should I even bother talking to her? She's probably a scam artist."

For the first time, I took a solid look at mom. Her skin had a healthier glow than last time, and, except for a single IV in her arm, she looked ready to leave. It seemed the fire hadn't done any damage to her, which made my shoulders feel lighter. However, recent events had conditioned me to be on constant alert.

"Everyone needs to make a living, Tris," Mom's voice had returned to its regular soft but attention grabbing tone too. "Go listen to her and then we can talk for a little."

"Are you sure? I don't need any money. I'm doing fine."

"Doing fine isn't borrowing money from Caleb."

"How did-… damn it, Caleb," I moaned. Scratching my arm, I complained, "That damn brother. It's none of this fucking business to tell-"

"Tris, I'm waiting," Molly yelled.

With a reluctant glance at mom, I left the ambulance.

The wind had turned cooler during my brief trip into the ambulance. I hugged myself and searched for Molly. Instead of standing outside the exit, I found that she had moved to the front side of the ambulance, which coincidentally blocked the public's view of us.

"Listen, lady," I sighed. "I'm only out here because my mom thinks I should be, so let's keep this short."

Molly smiled. Her teeth, which had previously seemed so straight and shiny, looked dull and slanted in close quarters. It brought an ominous feeling to the conversation.

"This'll be worth your time," Molly promised. "I swear. I don't plan on beating around the bush with you. I heard that you'll begin teaching modern at the Royal Ballet studio. However, those of us at the Mariinsky Ballet don't like that idea."

My mind had frozen when she said Mariinsky Ballet. The company, which practiced Russia ballet, was based in St. Petersburg, Russia, and was one of the most prestigious companies in the world. The fact that Molly, who looked and spoke like she was strictly British, was affiliated with the company was beyond me.

Molly continued, "Russian ballet is deeply routed in tradition, and the modern forms of movement contrast that tradition greatly. We in Russia have become concerned that the modern movement has begun to influence ballet in a negative way. If a large and influential company, such as the Royal Ballet, were to openly advertise the mixing of modern and ballet in their company, who knows how greatly traditional ballet would change?"

"And… why the fuck would I care?" I spat. "You stick-up-your-ass ballerinas could use some modernizing."

Molly didn't react to my bait to get a rise out of her. "To preserve traditional ballet, the Mariinsky Ballet will pay you three million dollars."

Such a tidy sum of money made me dizzy to think about. I steadied myself on the ambulance. I needed that money, for sure, but I felt like I was betraying my own morals. Modern dance was supposed to be shared and appreciated by all, and not a select few.

"Do I get time to think about this?" I asked.

"No."

My insides recoiled. This wasn't like the movies, where I Molly would say sure hand me her business card, and I would spend some sleepless nights thinking about it. My world was moving quickly, and there was little time to spend making important decisions.

"Tris?"

That voice belonged to Amar.

"Yo, log roller, where are you?" That one was Peter.

When the two men found me behind the ambulance, Molly's expression turned from business pleasant to an annoyed frown.

"Tris!...and Molly," Amar greeted. His face changed to match Molly's sour expression. Next to him, Peter turned stoic.

"I take it you guys know each other?" I pointed out the obvious.

With a roll of his eyes, Peter snorted, "The question is, why does the log roller know Mrs. Slipper Slut."

"Slipper Slut?" Molly cocked her eyebrow.

Peter held his hands up in surrender. "I didn't make it up. The rest of the world did. I'm just following the trends."

There was a silent stare off between the two, during which I asked Amar to tell me how they knew Molly.

Never taking his eyes off Molly, Amar explained, "She's a renowned prima ballerina turned soloist in the Mariinsky ballet. The whole story is pretty long, but, in short, she's slept with all the benefactors of the Mariinsky Ballet and got demoted because she put glass in another girl's pointe shoes."

I looked at Molly in a whole new, much darker, light.

"As to how I know her personally, she made several stops to the Royal Ballet during her prima ballerina time to take master classes. The chaos she brought to the studio was something to be remembered," Amar said.

Molly tsked. "You liked my chaos. That time we went out to coffee and were swarmed by the press was enjoyable, no? We could've gone home together if it wasn't for rehearsal."

"For the last time, Molly, I'm not straight," Amar gritted his teeth.

"No matter," Molly waved her hand.

"Why were you guys swarmed by the press?" I kept my eyes on Molly. In my mind, she had undergone a transformation from annoying salesperson to hungry predator. Look away, and she would pounce.

Peter answered, "Not that I should expect you to know, but Molly is a cousin of the British crown. When she moved to join the Mariinsky ballet, there was a big controversy on whether this was a sign that French ballet was declining."

"Don't forget," Molly sang, "I know Peter because of the large donation sums I've made to this hospital on behalf of the royal family. And this one time we went out to dinner…" Molly let that thought die with a smile.

There was a tense silence.

"So," Peter growled. "How come you're here? Is there a new benefactor to sleep with?"

"You think so low of me," Molly complained. "I'm here for a business deal with Mrs. Prior here. You're the ones who interrupted us."

"Why did you interrupt us?" I asked.

Amar said, "Four asked to see you."

At Four's name, Molly perked up. "Four is here?"
"Don't get any ideas, Slipper Slut," Amar barked.

Molly raised an eyebrow, but stayed silent.

My eyes widened. Briefly, I wondered how Molly knew Four, but then I remembered that he was famous too.

When I moved to go to Four, Molly grabbed my shoulder.

"You can't run away in the middle of a business proposition, Prior. It's bad form," Molly tightened her grip on my shoulder.

Wrenching her off of me, I told Molly, "Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. I don't need money from a company that sends someone like you to do business with me. Now, if you'll please let go of me, I'm off to see Four."

Molly warned, "I'm giving you the easy option here, Prior. If you decline, we won't give up. Things will get a whole lot harder."

"I'm sure they will," I sighed and left to go see Four.

Behind me, I heard Peter say "So the Slipper Slut has turned into an errand slut?"

Molly responded, "There are some people whose errands you can't say no to."

Thanks to 101olive4u, Saphirefriesen, Ray Yang, Guest, Rubiksmaniac, FandomFreak1, and AwesomeTooAwesome for reviewing the last chapter.