DH: Oops, this isn't the coauthor fic either… to quote a meme I saw floating around… I'll get over it, I just have to be dramatic first. Anyway still staying home like I should. Hope y'all are being safe. Enjoy Chapter Thirteen of An Heiress' Mantle .
AN 2: As per the usual, Benu is borrowed and anything I put that Ataahua likes, she's entitled to use it. And likewise, I'll probably cross-reference stuff I forget to acknowledge- the ones I cover are in the closing AN.
AN 3: SMALL CONTENT WARNING: There's some less than savory implications that pop up in this chapter (And likely the next, I'm undecided) and while it'd never happen, it's likely a fair assumption without all the details. You'll know it when you see it.
Benu first POV
Chapter Thirteen
"You're staring at your cup." There's a wisely unuttered, and as I look on her face, I realize unintended Are you ok? somewhat affixed to the end of Arlomhe Sharti's little observation. She groans quietly and slowly pulls her fingers down her face; probably rightly apprehensive about how this will go over. She takes a sip out of her cup and makes a face akin to sipping sour milk. The tea must be cold, near empty, or both. With a trembling hand she pushes the cup and the plated cinnamon bread lightly to the window side of the table.
"You need a refill?" The question is careful, and she stands and rests her right hand on the table as she pulls her wallet out of her left pocket. "It's on me."
I'm never one to turn down a free coffee. "Are there any strings attached to your generous offer?"
Apparently there are. She wrings her hands and resignedly nods once. "But it's not immediate!" Her face drops. "And as it's a selfish attempt to retain my own sanity, beverages first, my request second?"
Singular rather than plural. Either the girl is smart enough not to test her luck, or it's a big ask. I hope it's a bit of both. I nod in approval which seems to ease her slightly.
"Flavored or plain, Benni?" The nickname is quietly tested and careful. Fortunately, I find it rather charming- certainly beats being called vexing every other sentence by miles.
"Buttering me up by expanding the offer." I watch Ms. Sharti freeze- at some level, that was likely her intent. "Hazelnut would be lovely."
"Sweetener or creamer?"
That also gives me pause. Black coffee is always the default… no one ever asks me about add ins, but I've never insisted on them either. "I'm sweet enough already- so just the creamer… please." The pleasantry is a bit of an afterthought; in my defense, I don't usually have much use for manners when on the clock.
"Anything else?"
"No… thank you." Again the pleasantry isn't innate as I rotate to face the mirror and then look curiously at this almost over-appeasing girl. "What are you, a free barista?"
"I don't take chances with other people's orders, a mess up wouldn't at all be in my favor." The way her posture stiffens clearly indicates the sentiment goes beyond beverages.
I'm almost tempted to ask if she's in the result of a mess up here and now, but she hasn't quite merited a kick while she's down. As I recall the last moment before her employer stepped out, I surmise that she knows she needs to step lightly. After all, there's a reason her employer didn't immediately ream her on sight.
"Coffee, hazelnut, creamer- correct?" The confirmation request is quiet and still careful. I cannot discern whether it comes from a place of semi-awareness that something has thrown me off, or if it comes from awareness that one wrong move could result in further pain.
I nod in confirmation and see a little of that nervousness leave, but still remain present and palpable. I watch Arlomhe exhale and pace towards the counter, but stop halfway and back step.
"Mug, or disposable cup with a lid?" It's clearly an afterthought, but it seemed worth it to her to ask. I shake slightly and before I can even answer, she permits a small smile as if she's keeping a secret. "Disposable cup it is." She goes to the counter and orders.
She returns about three minutes later with two disposable cups, one with a stopper and one without. So she's shaken too. I furrow my brow as she sets the unstopped cup closer to her side of the booth and passes the stopped one to me. My attention quickly shifts from my cup to Ms. Sharti as she takes a sip with another small tremble.
"Your request, Ms. Sharti?" I watch as the girl surrenders her hold on the cup and her shoulders again rise, as if she braces for its delivery.
She rubs the bridge of her nose in somewhat apparent vexation. "My employer wants to listen in on the.." She swallows with another rubbing of her nose. "He wants to listen in on the negotiation by phone." Her lips shift into a thinking face. "I think that's the best word to use." She reclaims her cup and takes a swallow.
"Can't say I blame him for wanting to ensure things go his way." I laugh lightly. Sharti takes another few barely controlled gulps from her cup and it trembles in her grasp. I permit a single dry laugh. "You must be doing something right…" I rest my elbow on the table, "He didn't outright say no."
The sound of the cup slamming against the table draws me to watch as Arlomhe Sharti's entire body trembles. I swear I hear her mutter "Stupid knife.", but it's too masked by the sound of her cup making intermittent contact with the table.
"Maybe a positive answer would put your mind at ease?" I watch as Arlomhe Sharti stills immediately. Followed by a look of incredulous surprise. "Blondie doesn't even have to be on mute."
Sharti blinks and almost, almost stifles her laughter, and the following laughing fit shakes her body and lasts for about a minute. She's red in the face once the laughter ceases, and she immediately takes refuge behind her cup. She glances at her shoulder and spies a couple blond hairs, rolling her eyes. "Blondie sheds… apparently even when it's as forceless as using someone's shoulder as a pillow." As soon as she plucks the hairs from her shoulder, she chokes out another laugh, "Pretty sure I needed that,"
"You gonna be able to keep a straight face whenever your break is done?" Briefly she looks as though I've taken away the only joy she's had in who knows how long, but as quickly as it appears, the turmoil smooths over,
"If I can frankly inform my employer that his fly was down after all my male…coworkers were unable to- and that happened twice in six months-, I'm more than certain I can look at his hair and keep a straight face." Arlomhe rolls her eyes as she finishes off her drink. "Seriously, they nominated me and almost pushed me right out the door."
I finally pull the stopper off my own drink. The revelation almost makes me regret that I was responsible for both instances as I take my first sip. I watch Arlomhe's fists curl loosely and a wry smile flit across her face. "Once was enough for awareness of the irony to sink in… twice was just an embarrassment."
"Your boss' man-harem probably knew he wouldn't kill you."
"If looks could kill. I would have likely lost an arm each time." She rubs both the aforementioned limbs in a futile comforting gesture that doesn't work. "Not even I'm completely immune, Benni, despite the fact that all I did was point and clear my throat." Her gaze drifts down to the table. "I take that back- the second time, I had to mime zipping my own pants five times before it was corrected. And my reward? Not a thank you but a glower like I was the one who was responsible for the wardrobe malfunction." She idly rubs her finger in circles on the envelope- concealed negotiation package.
"Having more balls than the guys you work with does have its advantages- I'd imagine it cements your status as a Little Miss Badass who you'd have to be an idiot to cross."
"Does that cementing happen before or after enough of them all but explicitly peg you as their employer's… side piece?" She stands bolt upright and stiff as a board as she crushes her empty paper cup, releases it, slides the envelope aside, and heads for the single occupancy restroom.
Well that might explain why my scalp was still a bit sore after this morning… and now I'm left surprised she didn't rip any hair out. Being accused of sleeping your way to where you are is something she should take quite the umbrage at… adding in the fact that in this case it'd be incest…I suppose some sort of apology is in order.
I softly step up to the counter and order my favorite-a hot chocolate always makes me feel better, and unlike the cinnamon bread, the recipe which includes my mother's addition of a small amount of cinnamon to the drink is a pleasant comfort as opposed to a disastrous invitation of memories I'd rather forget. Verbal apologies are almost nonexistent in my vocabulary and I've always practiced putting action where my words are in nearly everything- this is no different. I grab a blank cup sleeve and write the initials A.S. on one side and adorn the other with my oddly feathery "Benni." I'd have had to have been dense to not register her slightly happy expression on seeing my signature at our first meeting, Cutesy things like that, well away from my own employer's attention, are all I can do to keep what little whimsy remains in me. I ponder addimg a small cutesy heart over the i, but Ms. Sharti isn't the only one who'd see it.
From the corner of my right eye, I see a black sedan drive past with the driver's side facing the door. The car's windows are open and a familiar ringed finger rests lazily on the rim of the window opening, I slide the sleeve over the cup that Alex has just handed me, leave it on the counter, and knock on the restroom door thrice. I hear the lock thrown open and a sigh of relief escape Arlomhe Sharti only after three sets of panting. "I thought you were him."
"I'm not, but he's just pulled up and might I suggest a black hazelnut coffee to go in the largest cup we've got?"
"How do you know his usual?"
"Not all of our business occurs on museum show floors, and in his case not always in his dress."
Arlomhe Sharti smacks her palm to her face. "Of course, of course it was Stealth Incarnate…"
"Now it's my turn to ask how you know that."
"It's what my employer calls you when he doesn't use 'Little Benu' or 'Vexing Little Bird', as an aside he really needs to reevaluate his use of 'Little' to describe someone who could likely break him in half without breaking a sweat."
"Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Little Lookout." An expression that's the closest I've seen to annoyed at me crosses her face at the moniker. On further consideration, the nickname doesn't seem to fit her…and that look is more than enough of a hint that she doesn't like it… I'll think on one that fits better. "Are you going to just stand here? Coffee doesn't exactly order itself- I want in on that if it ever happens,"
I watch her stifle another laugh as she goes and places the order. She pays and drops the change into the empty tip jar, and then adds two more bills in for good measure. I slide the hot chocolate towards her with just enough force that it slides right near the tip jar.
I watch as she quirks a brow. "It's not going to make me violently ill the moment I get into the car, is it?"
"Why would I harm my only source of fun lately?" I laugh as the poor girl goes red as a tomato. I cross one leg loosely behind the other and stare at the floor. "It's an attempted peace offering- I did imply you may have been shall I say canoodling with your boss during our museum discussion this morning." Arlomhe's face immediately shifts into one likely similar to mine when I realized that Dear Mr. R.H. had progeny- one torn between Gods no, and Oh God- with possibly an EW! thrown in to finish the expression… or to put it more simply, she was likely begging for some form of brain bleach.
It's gone after about a minute, and Arlomhe's posture shifts as her fists curl. Her words come whispered through her teeth. "Benu, if you ever imply that again, it won't be pretty."
"Unlike some people, I actually know when a line get crossed, and make an effort to not cross it again if it's beyond a petty annoyance. And honestly I can't blame you one bit for that accusation to set you off, it's an insult on two fronts. But it's not exactly an unfair assumption when you're the only gal in there and you do well."
"I didn't ask for any of it." She barely stops her voice from shaking.
"At least you're smart enough that I don't have to introduce your face to a table- specifically the center one with the dent."
With a glance at the table, Arlomhe winces, and then recognition twists her face. "Motorbike mishaps and an errant tree branch my foot." She mutters hotly. "That explains the near broken nose and bruised cheekbones two months ago…" She starts count on fingers. "The nearly broken left wrist five months ago?"
"Mocking monologues annoy the snot out of me." I swear I see her nod in agreement.
"And the added slit to one of his cloaks that ended dangerously close to, ahem… the family jewels if you will. Knew I should have prodded on that further when I found it in the laundry." She immediately adds that she only does his outerwear and rarely at that. "That was you too."
"Your employer wasn't particularly cooperative that morning, and he doesn't really need those now, does he?'
"No comment." She shoots a glare towards the door. "I can't believe I bought those excuses." I watch her smooth herself just enough to take a sip of her drink and then a slight smile, "Benni, I'll work on accepting your apology, and not digging myself in a hole."
The large hazelnut coffee slides onto the ready counter with its blank sleeve already affixed. Her face falls slightly and the tremors return. I take the coffee and hesitate before placing it in her hand, I don't relinquish my grip on it just yet and I wrap my free hand around the other cup as well. "You probably don't need me to remind you of this, but… he's not completely a bad guy… arrogant, and perhaps misguided, but not completely rotten."
I'm thankful I had a grip on the cups as Arlomhe goes slack and absolutely all color leaves her face. I set the cups on the counter as she braces herself on me, trembling and almost hyperventilating for about half a minute. "I know." She exhales shakily. "And it scares the hell out of me."
I push her gently towards a chair and grab her hot chocolate and place it on the closest table in a matter of five seconds. I pull the negotiation package from the now abandoned booth, and after setting it on her new table, I retrieve the other coffee and place it there as well. "He won't wait forever, but you can take five minutes to… collect yourself." I almost regret shooting The R.H. a text from my pocket (I still don't understand what he's got against texts) to that same effect but it took all my composure to actually say what I just had. Before I make my exit, I spy Arlomhe Sharti's phone and step over to grab it, add my number under Benni, and then shoot myself a message so I have the number. I set it on the table, and watch her stare at her own cup in the same way I had just an hour prior. The memory of having your place set before you for the first time creases your face in the oddest way.
DH: Okay I have credit to point to, the one grouping of things is like Benu "canon"- Hello pretty face meet table, one of the your fly's open moments, the near assault on that very sensitive area all are from Ataahua's fic An Emerald Phoenix Renewed( and it's probably the lightest hearted Benni canon I'll pull from tbh) so I had to include it. While I'm still waiting to see which poor schmuck gets that awful "Your fly is down and likely has been for a while" delivery privilege in Ataahua's fic An Emerald Phoenix Renewed, (which you should go read if you want more Benu goodness in ways that I could only dream of pulling off.), Arlomhe was the messenger this time around. Poor girl can't catch a break.
And the "Not that bad bit" owes a bit to the coauthor fic In A Name- in the first part of the Dinner Date, Chapter 28 as FFN numbers it.
