The sun shone brightly as Rumald exited his Cadillac and closed the door behind him, roaming his gaze over the neighbourhood. He did not frequent this part of Storybrooke often. Recently, he had purchased a new property, which was why he had dragged himself over to this part of town, after a phone call from Dove. Rumald could tell by the tone of Dove's voice on the phone, he was not going to be happy with whatever was going on.
Marching across the street, Rumald eyed the different tools and materials, which were scattered over the front lawn of the property. Behind his sunglasses, he could see fresh boards had been fitted to the exterior of the house, dotted amongst the original painted boards of the house. He followed the front path leading up to the front porch, surveying the front door, which was wide open. His shoes clunked with each step up to the porch and across the boards to the doorway. As he entered the house, he was hit with the smell of cleaning solution and fresh paint. Dove and Marco were stood by the fireplace in the living room, both looking concerned as they talked.
"He won't be happy." Dove commented, unaware Rumald had already entered the house.
"Won't be happy, about what?" Rumald asked, clasping his hands in front of himself.
Marco took a visible breath before he answered. "The foundations – I suspect they've flooded the basement a couple of times and the foundations is now weak."
"The foundations?" Rumald repeated in disbelief. "The surveyor said this house was sound."
"I don't know what to tell you, Mr Gold." Marco showed his hands to Rumald, while shrugging his shoulders.
With a short shake of his head, Rumald rolled his eyes and asked the obvious question. "How much?"
"I'll have to get back to you on figures." The tension in Marco eased. "I'll have to call in a foundations expert."
"Fine, you do that and get it sorted." Rumald then pointed his finger at Dove. "You, go and find our surveyor friend, and find out what the hell he's playing at."
"Yes, sir." Dove responded instantly, already heading by Rumald to the front door.
Rumald pivoted to follow Dove with his eyes, calling after him. "And make sure, he's well aware of how unhappy I am about this situation." Turning back to Marco, Rumald mumbled to himself. "I can see this costing thousands."
"We should be able to save some money in other places. The plumbing in good shape and the kitchen cabinets can be saved." Marco waved his hand in the direction of the kitchen.
"I appreciate the sentiment, Marco, but you're talking hundreds. Not thousands." Rumald shook his head again, disappointed with his hope of a quick turnaround, being foiled by someone not doing their job properly.
"Sorry, Mr Gold." Marco wholeheartedly apologised to Rumald.
Avoiding Marco's gaze, Rumald looked about the living room, inspecting the walls and ceiling as he said. "Let's just hope we don't find any more costly issues."
"Hopefully not." Marco said in agreement.
"Let me know as soon as you know something." Rumald instructed him, sweeping his gaze once more around the room, and left Marco in the living room.
Heading back outside, Rumald allowed himself one more shake of his head and left the issue inside the property. He chose not to worry about the issue until Marco came back to him with a price. His shoes clunked on the porch as he stepped out from the house, poking his sunglasses further up his nose.
As Rumald descended from the porch, his attention was caught by a house across the way, where the front door had opened and someone exited the house. Such an occurrence would not have normally caught his attention, however, the occupant exiting the house was what had drawn his attention. They kissed and smiled at the woman, who was propping herself up against the doorframe, giving the man a very sultry smile, dressed in a skimpy dressing gown that did not cover up anything. Engrossed by the scene, Rumald strode the path from the porch to the sidewalk, his eyes on the man as they mirrored Rumald's own path, coming to the opposite sidewalk at the same time.
"Mr Phipps." Rumald acknowledged the other man as he walked off the kerb, heading towards his Cadillac. "Such a pleasure to see you."
"Mr Gold." Gaston returned the greeting, eyeing Rumald over the top of Rumald's Cadillac.
Rumald opened his car door and indicated with his head towards the house Gaston had exited. "Strange, I thought the house you were renting from me, was on the other side of the town."
"Visiting a friend." Gaston retorted, his chin raised in defiance.
"Oh," Rumald laughed and then looked at the house behind Gaston, while his hand rested on the top of his car door. "Indeed. Looked very friendly."
"Look, Mr Gold," Gaston's tone became serious, as he came around the front of Rumald's Cadillac to stand on the other side of the driver's door. "I don't know what you think you saw, but you're wrong. I was visiting a friend."
Grinning at Gaston, Rumald playfully went along with the lie. "Of course, you were, dearie. Granted, she looked rather… Undressed, shall we say, but what do I know?"
"Mind your own business." Gaston sneered aggressively, leaning against Rumald's car door.
"Or what?" Rumald questioned, amused that Gaston thought he could intimidate him.
"Something bad might happen to you." Gaston threatened him.
"Really, dear…" Rumald did not get to finish his 'dearie'.
Instead, he doubled over in pain after the edge of his car door hit him perfectly in his groin. His hand held onto the top of the door, stopping himself from sprawling completely out on the floor. Rumald was huffing his breath, squeezing his eyes shut at the pain, while he cradled his privates in his other hand.
Gaston leaned over him to say. "Some things are best left unsaid, if you catch my meaning."
Angling his head to peer up at Gaston, Rumald was toying with returning the gesture, when the younger man waltzed away from him. He ducked his head back down, holding back the groan that screamed to be released. Mentally, he told himself to take a few more deep breaths, waiting for the waves of pain to subside. When Rumald felt the ache in his groin easing, he pulled himself up with aid of his car door, grabbing at anything with his other hand to support himself as he stood up. Rumald twisted his body enough to see in the direction Gaston had gone and saw no trace of the younger man. His upper lip curled into a snarl, wishing he had read Gaston's intentions, pre-empting the low blow, and had retaliated back with equal force. Rumald shifted his stance and groaned at the surge of fresh pain from his groin. He dropped into the driver's seat and yanked the car door shut .
Whilst he was sat there, waiting for the pain to subside again, his eyes were on the house Gaston had left. Rumald decided he had been going about things all wrong. He had been trying to do the right thing and be respectful of their betrothal. Realistically, Rumald should have known playing by the rules never got anyone anywhere, which was why he always endeavoured to find a loophole in his dealings. This titbit of information on Gaston, put the tables in Rumald's favour, but it was not enough. Yes, it would end their engagement, he was sure of it. But… To take her from him would be more satisfying, especially as Rumald would get what he wanted: Belle.