Now that Cole donned a new ensemble, the last task for Trunks to accomplish, without losing his sanity, was to get Cole to her meeting. Sitting beside him quite calm and smug, Cole wore a slate gray business suit with white pin stripes, a crimson red woman's blouse with matching open toe heels and a long double looped strand of small white pearls round her neck. Trunks with his infallible fashion sense had selected the outfit personally. The woman at the boutique had been good enough to give Cole a manicure and pedicure with matching crimson base and white floral overlays. Resist as he might, Trunks couldn't help but stare and admire Cole's calf length hair as the boutique owners shop assistant pulled it free of its restraining braid and raved about its silken quality. Against his own will, Trunks remembered just how soft it had felt as he'd threaded his fingers through it. He'd been rather surprised to finally see it flowing freely at its full length. It was lustrous with its blue sheen that it was almost luminescent lapis in the daylight.
As mad as he was, he still felt the urge to run his fingers through the tendrils of her hair as it ran down over her shoulder and in a coiled bundle in her lap. He'd never seen such long and healthy hair in his life. Usually when women let their hair grow to such lengths it became brittle, uneven, and easily tangled. Cole's hair from length to tip was equally thick, silken, and lustrous. The most amusing part of their venture to the boutique was when the shop assistant asked if Cole had ever considered having her hair made into a wig. At that point, Cole turned to look at the shop assistant and reply very seriously that her hair sat on her head just fine as it was. Trunks found it amusing that Cole hadn't grasped the concept that having your hair made into a wig was so that other people could wear it.
Casting a sidelong glance her way, he opened his mouth to speak. "I hope you're ready for this meeting. A lot of people pulled a lot of strings to make it happen so quickly." What Trunks failed to mention was that the reason so many people had been willing to call in their favors was because he had put his good name into the equation. In a sense, Cole was his baby. He was presenting her to the business world under the trustworthy name that his grandfather created and he bore. If she screwed up, then by default responsibility would shift onto him for endorsing her. Why in the Seven Realms of Hell he was willing to stick his neck out for a woman who wouldn't give him the time of day was beyond him, but a promise was a promise.
"I'm ready." Was Cole's simple and confident reply. He certainly hoped she was as capable as she sounded. He hated to be pessimistic, but there was a lot riding on his shoulders. As they drew nearer to their destination, Trunks began looking at the lack of available parking. There wasn't a vacant spot to be seen other than the no parking zones at the corners and in front of fire hydrants. Trunks just smiled in a moment of self satisfaction. Being the heir to Capsule Corp definitely had its advantages. He could park like everyone else, or beat the crowd and encapsulate his car. Not many people could afford the Capsule Car, but Trunks got it for free. Trunks got first dibs on anything Capsule Corp made, even before it went to market, and he got it absolutely free. It wasn't like he was a freeloader, though. He did a lot of work for the company, though he didn't do any of the inventing. He left the inventing to the pros like his mother and grandfather. It wasn't so much that he lacked mechanical knowhow. In fact, he was highly mechanically inclined and could figure out any machine that was put in front of him. It was just that he lacked the creativity to produce and inventive and useful gadget. He had a mind more for mathematics and business, the things that were concrete and absolute.
Pulling in front of an average looking office building, Trunks pulled to the side of the road parallel to the parked cars. "Climb out." He said, speaking to Cole as he turned the car off. Cole did as she was told as Trunks pressed the button on the console to encapsulate the car. Climbing out himself, the car encapsulated itself only moments after he closed the door. Bending forward, Trunks picked up the small pill and pocketed it. Pointing down the street, he spoke up again. "That's where we have to go." His finger pointed to a casual fresco diner on the corner. On such short notice that was the best place to arrange such an impromptu meeting. He, Cole, and the others present would share a late lunch as they discussed the reason for the meeting. Of course, he could have easily pulled directly up to the diner, but it gave Trunks some sense of satisfaction to watch Cole struggle to walk in the stiletto heels he'd chosen for her. He knew it was only petty vengeance that made him do it, but it made him feel a little better after she'd outright rejected him.
Internally, Cole cursed Trunks into oblivious as she shoved to her feet. Her ankle throbbed painfully under her weight as she forced herself to keep walking. She wasn't sure what sort of self loathing masochists wore these inane shoes, but she couldn't think of one good thing about them other than the fact that they'd do some major damage if she used them to kick someone in the head. She could certainly think of a certain someone to test her theory on.
"Hey!" Chirped a familiar voice. Cole followed the peppy voice to a familiar and handsome face. "What a coincidence!" Goten chirped as he crossed the street, trotting up to her wearing khaki trousers, a baby blue business button up, and the famous Son smile. "I almost didn't recognize you." He added, giving her an obvious and appreciative once-over as he came to a stop. "What are you doing here in Cape City?"
"I could ask you the same thing." Was Cole easy reply, playing off her twisted ankle as a casual lean.
"I start college in the fall. Since I got accepted to several ones, I decided to scope out the different campuses before making my choice. One of those colleges happened to be Cape City College. It's not too far from here." He added, pointing in a general direction. "So what's with the getup?" He asked, motioning his hand in a sweeping gesture at her clothing.
"I have a business meeting here with Trunks. He chose the outfit." She added sourly.
"You don't sound to pleased." He said before flashing her that charming smile of his. "I wouldn't be happy either if someone made me walk around in those things." He commented, nodding to her feet. "I'd like to see someone make Trunks wear a pair of those."
Cole couldn't help but chuckle. The image of Trunks flopping around like a fish out of water wearing these damn torture devices was more than funny. "You and me both. We'll see how funny he finds it when the shoe is on the other foot."
Goten chuckled. "I take it you're not having too much luck walking in them, then?" He asked, sweet sincerity showing this his expressive black eyes.
"I was just thinking what a better use they'd have as a weapon rather than apparel. They're utterly useless."
Goten chuckled as the image of someone using a stiletto as a ninja star crossed his mind. "They're supposed to make your legs look leaner and longer." He commented, before giving her bottom half an appreciative look. "Although I don't think you need any help in that department." Then something struck him as his eyes stopped after reaching her feet. "Hey, what size are those?" He questioned, crouching down to get a better view of her surprisingly tiny feet. No wonder she couldn't walk.
"I have no idea." She answered honestly, kicking off a shoe for his inspection, automatically reaching out to brace herself on his shoulder. She stood on her good ankle, holding her injured one suspended off the ground.
Taking the shoe, Goten clucked his tongue in disapproval. "Well no wonder you can't walk straight." He spoke, followed immediately with a sympathetic moan. "Cole, your ankle..."
"What's going on here?" Questioned a familiar tenor.
Cole glanced up and Goten turned in his crouching position to regard Trunks. Goten stood to greet his demi-Saiyan counterpart, automatically steadying Cole by bracing his large hand over the small of her back as she held her grip on his tall shoulder. Goten pointed Cole's tiny ruby red shoe at Trunks like a scolding mother might point her finger at a naughty child. "What were you thinking making her wear these shoes?" Goten reprimanded. "With all that shoe shopping your mother and sister do, one would think you'd have learned a thing or two"
"What are you talking about? Her shoes coordinate perfectly." Trunks replied, defending his fashion sense.
"I'm sure they do, but that's not what I'm talking about." He said, tossing the shoe to Trunks. Trunks caught and regarded it as Goten continued. "I got dragged along to enough of my mothers shopping trips to learn that you can't wear huge stiletto heels if you have small feet. She can't wear 6" heels when she wears a size 3. She's lucky not to have broken her ankle." He commented, tugging up on her pant leg. Of course he was exaggerating the actual size of the heel, but he figured he wasn't too far off from the actual size. Her shoe size wasn't an exaggeration, though. She really wore a size 3.
"It's fine." Cole chirped curtly, jerking her leg away from Goten's reaching hand. Of course, squirming while balancing on the foot that still wore the other heel probably wasn't a good way to test her present nimbleness. Luckily, Goten had quick reflexes and before she knew it she was braced snugly against his chest.
"See what I mean, man?" Goten asked, still holding Cole against his chest..
Cole was utterly speechless. She wasn't used to being manhandled. Even more surprising was that her young prince was being scolded by someone who had absolutely no authority over him. She didn't know what to make of the situation as she looked from one handsome demi-Saiyan to the other, somehow finding herself awkwardly centered in their argument, both physically as well as being the subject at hand. She didn't like the grave expression on Trunks's face as he regarded her position in Goten's arms, and more so she didn't like being out of control of her situation.
"Let me go, Goten. I'm fine." She spoke calmly but seriously.
Without argument or complaint, Goten gently released her, though he didn't relent his eye contact with Trunks.
"Let me see your ankle, Cole." Trunks commanded quietly, his eyes sharply focused on the leg in question. Cole recognized that tone of voice. It wasn't a request. She could almost feel the intensity from his solemn gaze. Obediently, she lifted her pant leg.
Trunks watched as Cole pulled her clothing upward, revealing a discolored ankle. Suddenly the devil on his shoulder that had been having a grand old time was drowned out by his reprimanding conscience. He hadn't actually meant to cause her injury, just frustrate her a little. He'd never learned that women with small feet can't wear high heels from this mother or sister. In fact, they'd always claimed you had to suffer for beauty. Then again, he supposed someone like Mrs. Son would be more inclined toward practicality than fashion. He honestly felt bad. It really was petty of him to do that to her.
After greeting the ICASO reps, he realized Cole was taking longer than she should have to turn up, heels or not. Excusing himself, he didn't have to look far to find her almost right where he'd last seen her. What surprised him was to see her with Goten. Even more surprising was when he saw her laughing. He had no idea what Goten did or said, but it must have been good. He couldn't even get Cole to crack a decent smile. He couldn't quite put his finger on why, but seeing them together like that made his blood churn just a little. He wasn't so sure why he should be angry. He supposed he was just frustrated with Cole for brushing off such an important meeting called on her behalf for some idle chatter and flirting with Goten. That thought only made him further irritated and he decided that was definitely the reason. Then when he saw Goten crouch down to get touchy with Cole's leg, and all he wanted to do was separate them.
Without further instruction, Cole slipped the uncomfortable heel back on her bare foot and forced herself to walk over to Trunks. She had to walk since she couldn't use her ki to stay balanced. There were too many people around and it was broad daylight. If she made it too obvious that she wasn't walking on her own weight there would be a lot of explaining to be done, specifically by Trunks. Last time Trunks had made her wear heels, she could use her ki since it was dark and there weren't nearly as many people. However, they were standing in the middle of lunch hour downtown traffic. She wasn't exactly sure why the Earth dwelling Saiyans took such great pains to blend in with the humans since they had nothing to fear from the weaker species, but she would not second guess it. She would follow the example that they set for her.
Trunks watched with a twang of pity as Cole sidled up to him. Though she tried to hide it well, her unsteady steps were made even more awkward by an interrupted gait. She was involuntarily favoring her injured ankle.
"Hey, Cole. Wait a second." Goten chirped, reaching into his pocket as he took a couple large steps to cross the distance between them. As he came to a stop, he'd already pulled out a small notepad and pen from his front right pocket. She watched as he flipped through the pages of the small note book that had writing on them, stopping finally on a blank page. Using the pen, he jot down a series of numbers before ripping the page from the notebook and offering it to her. Curious, Cole accepted and examined it. "Feel free to give me a call when you're done here. I'm available all afternoon." He said, casting a quick glance and grin to Trunks before giving the duo an easy wave goodbye. "Later, Trunks."
Trunks seemed somewhat disgruntled as he spared Cole a fleeting glance. "Come on. Everyone is waiting for is inside." He commented, already striding away from her. Cole followed suit as best as she could, cringing internally as she hobbled along in her oversized heels.
Once they reached the restaurant, Cole was greeted enthusiastically by one of the men seated at the table that had been awaiting them. He was a good looking male, most likely in his late 20s to early 30s. He had short caramel hair and hazel eyes. Upon seeing her, he had given her a swift once-over before standing to make his acquaintance.
"Well hello." He said merrily, his hazel eyes not too discretely eying Cole over. "My name is Michael Brenner," he spoke, offering his hand, "and you are Miss..." Cole slipped her hand into his and prepared to speak, though was cut short.
"Colette." Trunks interjected. "Colette Glace."
"Oh, French." Mike cooed, laying a dry kiss on the back of Cole's hand. Accepting the file from Trunks, he cracked it open, the whole while he never took his eyes off her. "Always did like foreign women." He commented, finally relinquishing his stare on her to observe her employee files, which Trunks was thoughtful enough to whip up while searching for Cole. It was purely cosmetic, for the moment. If anyone actually tried to confirm any of the information in her files, they'd get nothing but red flags. However, since Capsule Corp does such an extensive background check on all its employees, Trunks had confidence that they'd have enough faith in official Capsule Corp employee files that they wouldn't question anything... at least not for now. This should buy him enough time to create a real identity for her.
"Don't mind my colleague." Spoke a matronly voice. Cole glanced up to watch Emma Wilkins as she, too, offered her hand. Like before, Cole clasped the other woman's hand. "We don't let him out of his cage very often, so his social skills are somewhat lacking." Cole grinned for a moment. She liked this woman. Her humor was as cutting as it was dry. One could hardly tell from Ms. Wilkins's serious expression that she'd just cracked a joke at Michael's expense. "My name is Emma Wilkins. Feel free to call me Emma."
Cole was about to reply before, yet again, she was cut short.
"And no one saw fit to introduce me?" asked a warm and pleasant voice. Cole eyed the oldest of the bunch. His icy eyes sparkled through a genuine smile.
"Where are my manners?" Emma spoke with dry sarcasm and a bit of the playful familiarity and tough love that came with working very closely with someone for a very long time. "Colette, my dear, this is my business partner, Mr. Joseph Terylene. He really is a bother to drag around everywhere, but he's so needy. It's hard to leave him behind without worrying he'd soil the carpeting."
"I'll have you know my continence is just fine, thank you." Joseph said in mock insult. "An accident now and then is normal for anyone." He joked, indulging in a bit of self-abusing humor.
Though it didn't show on her face, Cole was endlessly amused. Together the trio made quite a jovial lot. Trunks had no problem showing his amusement as he offered the three a broad grin and hearty handshake. Though he was markedly tender with Ms. Wilkins's handshake, it wasn't hard to miss the excessive grip he used on Mr. Brenner by the way Michael's face twinged just a little.
"Well, now. Let's all have a seat, shall we?" Mr. Terylene said, sweeping his hand across the rounded table in a gesture of welcome. Following his invitation, everyone had a seat. Cole glanced down at the icy glass of water sitting in front of her, thoughtfully ordered by the ICASO reps. The weather was rather warm out. Taking the clinking and moisture fogged glass to her lips, she drank several hearty swigs. Condensation collected at the bottom corner, dripping from the cold glass to Cole's bare chest where the blouse was parted open. Trunks didn't miss the way Michael stared eagerly at the droplet like a rabid dog as it glistened against the swell of Cole's cleavage. It wasn't as though her chest was popping out. The top showed just enough to leave plenty to the imagination, and Mr. Brenner's imagination was assuredly running amok at that very moment. Trunks resisted the urge, but the idea never left his head to discretely kick Mr. Brenner underneath the table.
The waiter, now noticing that his entire party had finally been seated, made his debut. "Hello, as some of you may know, my name is Paul. Here are your menus." He spoke, glancing from one to another as he passed the menus around. "Just let me know when you're ready to make your orders."
"I'm ready, now." Mike piped up, handing the menu back to Paul without even prying it open. "I'll have your large prime sirloin steak meal and a pint of your house lager. Make my baked potato with the works and steak rare, please."
"Excellent choice, sir. Anyone else?" He asked, looking around the table for anyone else ready to order.
"I'll have your char grilled chicken caesar salad and a glass of red wine, please." She said, handing him the menu before holding her finger up in a gesture of discovery before adding an afterthought to her order. "Would it be too much trouble if I get the dressing on the side?"
"No trouble at all." was Paul's chipper reply.
"I think Mike has the right idea." Joseph barked enthusiastically. "I'll have what he's having, but make my steak medium well, if you could."
"Sure thing." Paul replied, taking Mr. Terylene's menu.
"I'll take the chicken corde en bleu, a side of garlic bread, and I'll also indulge in a glass of red wine, if you please." He said, casting Ms. Wilkins a winning smile.
"Very well." Paul said pleasantly, finally setting his eyes on Cole. Although the boutique assistant has asked Trunks if he wanted Cole to wear any makeup, he'd rescinded the offer. Looking at her now; the exotic angles of her face lit with a healthy glow in the natural sunlight, her lush lashes shadowing her downcast eyes as she read her menu, and her plump rosy lips pursed in thought as she considered her options, he was glad he had chosen not to cover up the natural beauty that was already there. Again, a familiar yearning reared its ugly head as he roamed his sky blue eyes over the alluring angles of her face. Squashing the feeling down with callous determination, he reminded himself that she would have no part of him no matter what he did. She was just endlessly impossible, and to his consternation, endlessly appealing.
Cole could feel eyes on her as she read over the different options on her menu. She had no idea what any of these dishes were. Last time she'd had to face a dining situation like this was when she'd had her dinner date with Trunks. He had been considerate enough to order for the both of them, because she had no clue what to choose. That occasion hadn't gone very well, anyway, so she really hadn't had a chance to eat much. This time, she'd have to choose for herself and eat whatever was put in front of her as though it were a favorite and familiar dish. Lucky thing Saiyans weren't finicky eaters. She decided to select something entirely at random.
"I'll have the chicken primavera." She spoke plainly, pointing to her selection for Paul to see.
"Sure thing." He said, taking her menu. "I'll be right back." He said, striding off to put in their orders.
Ms. Wilkins smiled gently at Cole, the current question brewing in her mind spilling forth from her lips. "My dear, you certainly seem very young to be a seasoned scientist capable of undertaking the sort of task you've volunteered yourself for."
"I'm older than I look." was Cole's simple and affirming reply, her husky feminine bass seeming out of place is it poured from pouted lips on such a youthful face.
"You certainly sound assured." Ms. Wilkins commented, remarking on the inherit confidence Cole possessed that came from reaching a ripe old age. Though her face didn't show it, her eyes did. Cole's dark eyes were lit with a heightened mental awareness that came from years upon years of life experience. Mr. Brenner was not aware of it, but Ms. Wilkins recognized it well. Mr. Terylene had not missed it, either, being the closest to Cole's true age of anyone present.
"So how, precisely, do you intend to go about this potential cure?" Mr. Terylene asked, leaning back in his chair in a lax position, patiently awaiting Cole's answer.
"I intend to acquire and study a DNA sample in order to uncover the genetic flaw that makes us prone, or to uncover and exploit a defect in the infecting virus's own genetic code." Cole replied, careful to include herself while speaking about the prolific and distinctly human illness.
"As hopeful as that sounds, what would lead you to believe you have a greater chance of success than the scientists before you? Our team is composed of the some of the sharpest minds in cellular biology, biogenesis, virology, and genetics focused solely on finding a cure for this singular illness, and yet we have none." Mr. Brenner spoke, his attitude changing drastically when it came to his life's passion and dedication. Only those close to Michael Brenner knew the true reason behind his dedication to the ICASO. His brother Andrew, surprisingly the more promiscuous brother, had contracted HIV several years back. Michael, who was a lawyer at the time, put a grinding halt to his career to become an advocate for AIDS cure research. Through some bit of luck, he acquired his current position with the ICASO, and so had the immense fortune to be actively involved in all AIDS research both at home and abroad. If anyone anywhere found a cure, he would be one of the first to know. That was particularly fortunate because Andrew's HIV had become harder and harder to control over the passing years. Recently Michael received the unhappy news that his brother's HIV had blossomed into full blown AIDS, and that his poor brother's remaining life expectancy was less than hopeful.
Though devastated, Michael had been more determined than ever to find Andy a cure. He'd been hopeful when Trunks Briefs, the Capsule Corp heir, had contacted him and offered a glimmer of hope. He'd been the one to arrange this last-minute meeting. However, he couldn't mask his inner disappointment when looking at the lovely young lady that hadn't even begun her study on the virus. It was like betting on a horse that hadn't even left the gates. The cure she intended to find wouldn't be made within Andy's diminishing lifetime.
Ms. Wilkins placed a gentle hand on Mr. Brenner's shoulder, a gesture of comfort for what she knew he must be going through. Each time, it was like this. With each new scrap of hope seemed to come a new deep disappointment; the development of a new drug to help stave off HIV developing into AIDS, a new discovery about the human genome useless to the AIDS cause, or the promise of a cure... within the next decade. None of it was good enough to save his brother.
"What do you have to lose," Cole asked, eying Michael down with her intense dark eyes, "besides some blood?"
Michael sighed audibly as he acknowledged Emma's hand on his shoulder. She always knew just how to speak to him without saying a thing. "Nothing, I suppose." He relented, touching his fingertips over Emma's in a silent gesture of thanks. Emma gave a small and comforting smile as she took her hand back. Michael was strong and didn't need her to hold his hand like a mother. All he needed was the occasional gentle nudge to remind him that there was always someone on his side.
"Alright, Miss Glace," Michael spoke, giving Cole a winning smile, "I'll get you the samples you need."
Cole nodded in affirmation. "And I'll get you your cure." her confidence never waning.
With that settled, Cole was officially in business with the ISACO. That meant Trunks would have to be swift in validating her background information, just in case someone was to investigate her credentials. To make her identity real, he would need to get her an Identification Number, a birth certificate, a driver's license, dental records, medical records, school records, diplomas, and a family history. Yeah, a real piece of cake.
He would need to pay a professional to forge all those important documents, pay off a number of people to slip fake records in their corresponding associations, pay off the Records Keeper in City Hall to tamper with the documented newspapers and add fake articles pertaining to Cole, and pay off people to claim they knew as character references. Best of all, this needed to be done in complete anonymity. This was all too seedy to put his or the Capsule Corp name on.
This was going to cost a lot of money, but the only thing he couldn't afford was to create a paper trail. He needed to hire someone with the resources to see that this all got done, with the discretion to keep it quiet, and the prudence not to blackmail him afterwards. The only people he knew of with enough resources to make Cole's identity happen were affiliated with the mob. He didn't need the mafia calling in favors or blackmailing him for his influence afterwards, but they had all the right influences in the field of subterfuge he needed. What he needed was to hire someone entirely anonymous to go to the mob in his stead, someone who was publically disassociated with him, and someone who wasn't afraid to get involved with the mafia. Who did he know that he could trust that much?
That's when he was struck by a moment of revelation. Cole had Goten's number right in her pocket.
CS- "Well I'm super excited! Yet another update for you lovely people. Again, I apologize to everyone who was waiting with baited breath for updates. Feel free to exhale! My story is coming along nicely according to the outline I've set and this is just the beginning! It only gets more exciting from here on in. Kind of funny that I'm almost to chapter 40 and I'm still at the beginning of my outline. I could always just post the abbreviated outline, let you read that, and save us both some time, but where's the fun in that!" P