Chapter 31 - Landlady

"I'll get it, darling, you stay right there and rest those sore little haunches of yours," Richard said at the sound of the knock announcing their breakfast. He kissed her on her nose, then hopped out of bed and pulled a robe around him.

"You spoil me," Lupe called and sat up on her elbows. "First cake and now this?"

He shrugged. "How else do you figure to get breakfast in a hotel?"

"We could go out, it'd be cheaper. Aren't you a bit light on liquid assets at the moment?"

Richard fumbled around in his wallet on the dresser for a tip. "Being rich broke is different than being poor broke, my darling dove." He opened the door and took the tray from the bellhop. The young man tried to hide his fascinations with Rapture's newest gossip darlings, but did a quite poor job and tried to steal a peek at Lupe in bed over Richard's shoulder.

Annoyed, Richard brusquely thrust the dollar into his hand and slammed the door shut. He brought the tray to the bed and put it between them. "This is quite embarrassing, but I have no idea how you take your coffee."

"Sugar, no cream," Lupe beheld the rest of the tray. "Eggs Benedict, cinnamon rolls, and sausage, goodness. I keep eating like this and I'm going to end up fat." She stuck her finger in the icing on the roll and took a quick lick.

I'd fancy frosting her cinnamon rolls. Richard handed her a coffee cup. "I'd like that. A pudgy, happy wife to love." Not a stone-cold bag of rocks. "Speaking of, Dorothy is not going to go for a divorce, end of story. I don't know what she hopes to achieve with her stance, she's going to end up more miserable than she is now with her stubbornness."

"Spite," Lupe quickly answered. "And a lack of familiarity with being, as you put it, poor broke. I think she will change her tune after you stop paying her bills for a few weeks. Spite doesn't taste very good after a while. Not nearly as good as cinnamon rolls at any rate."

Richard took a sip of his coffee. He certainly hoped so.

Lupe ate a few bites of her breakfast before saying anything more. "How illegal do you suppose blackmail is down here?"

Richard choked on his coffee. "I'm sorry?"

Lupe gestured at the stack of newspapers. "None of the papers, and I've read all of them, at least all of the editions up until yesterday afternoon, mention that Robert gassed me and tried to rape me. The security forces are being quite tight-lipped about it, evidently. And honestly, I think I prefer it that way. Right now I'm a beautiful temptress who cast my spell over you. I don't want to be a victim, I don't want people to think of it that way, even if that's what happened. You gave Robert quite the slugging, if you'll pardon the pun, so it's not like they've gotten away with it, but I could really ruin their business if I went to press with the whole story."

"So you want what, money?" Richard guessed.

Lupe shook her head. "No. This is a powerful opportunity, one that I may not get again. And my dear, please don't take this the wrong way, but I can't rely on you for support. I can't rely on anyone but myself."

Fair enough. I might go toes up at any moment. "No offense taken."

"The late edition of The Daily Post was really scraping the barrel for a story, so they ran a little piece on all the assets the Andersons own. More than I knew. Aside from the tobacco plantations and the casinos they own a lot. They won't miss one little property, now will they?"

"Darling, just tell me what it is, you're killing me with the suspense."

Lupe giggled. "They own a block in Little Eden Plaza. Not rent – they own it outright, at least according to the article. I want that. I want the income from the rent and I want to open my own shop as well."

"Selling what? Your art?"

She rolled her eyes. "Goodness no, no one wants that, I've learned my lesson there. But you know what women do want?"

"Lupe, remember what I said about the suspense killing me?"

"They want to be bewitching temptresses. All those fun things I've gotten lately, the rope and the balls? There's a sad shop in Epimetheus Park that I buy them from, but the only people who patronize it are prostitutes and burlesque dancers. I believe that all women, or at least the ones down here, want to be a little bit of a burlesque dancer, if not a prostitute. So I work out a deal with her and I sell them to a slightly more respectable crowd. And if that doesn't work out, well, I'll have the income from the rents, now won't I?'

Richard thoughtfully took a few bites of breakfast before replying. "This all presumes that you get the property and that Annette doesn't say, smash your head in with a wrench when you try to blackmail her."

"It's really more hush money than blackmail, I am the victim here after all," Lupe optimistically pointed out.

"Regardless, it's still a huge chunk of money you're asking for. And I already put her husband into a coma, she's probably not too inclined to open up the purse strings."

"Then I do a tell-all article with the newspaper, plus I could probably sue her husband for punitive damages as well. There are still laws down here, you can't attack people. That's not ideal, however. Have you seen prices for real estate in this city?" Lupe was incredulous.

Richard nodded. "Yes, yes I have, which is why we taking a big step down in terms of accommodations. If you want to do it, then speak with my lawyer. Get it legal. Find out exactly where the line is between extortion and a deal, and have her sign everything she needs to sign."

Lupe seemed surprised at his ready acceptance of her bold plan. "That's it? Do you think it's a good idea?"

Richard shrugged and licked some cinnamon sugar off his finger. "It's not an awful plan. This is a dog-eat-dog place, and if you're comfortable with this trade-off, then you may as well try it. I think you'll be in danger from Annette anyway, you're the only witness, but she can buy your silence?" Richard thoughtfully chewed on the end of the roll that he had torn off.

Lupe took a sip of her coffee. "It would be grand to not be poor. I don't even want to be rich, I just don't want to be poor. I don't want to be anyone's maid ever again. Except, of course," she blushed nearly as red as her bottom had been last night.

My little sexy, sexy dove. What wouldn't I do to protect you? "How about this? You build a safeguard into the contract, that if anything ever happens to you, the full story will be released to the papers." Richard also had plans to install a series of customized turrets inside their new home. Annette was an afterthought to Dorothy, however.

"Yes, yes, that's a good idea," Lupe agreed and broke the yolk on her poached egg.

Richard wanted to ask Lupe if she still yearned to escape Rapture, but he hadn't counted out the possibility that their room was bugged. And while it would be quite embarrassing to have his sexual habits in print, there was nothing illegal about it. But one wrong sentence could land Lupe or him or both in Persephone.

But in their own home, they'd finally be free.

Would You Kindly Imagine A Pagebreak Here?

Poor Robert still hadn't awakened from his coma, and those damnable detectives wouldn't leave Annette alone. It had been a week and she was still dodging calls from the detectives for another interview. How is it any of their business that happened in that room anyway? Nothing happened, that's what happened! But of course, she couldn't tell them that. They hadn't found out about the recording devices, at least not yet, but Annette still got a twist in her stomach every time the phone rang.

The twist in her stomach turned even more sour every time she so much as glanced at a newspaper. They had the gall and the poor taste to make Richard into a hero and that tramp of his into some kind of free-spirited artist as opposed to a subpar domestic. It wasn't just the tabloids, it was the more respectable papers too. And who cares if Robert tried to avail himself upon some nobody maid? People down here have lost their sense of fun if they are getting up in arms about it!

But most of all she just wanted things to go back to normal. For Robert to wake up, for the police to stop pestering her, and for the money to keep coming back in. There had been a noticeable, although not catastrophic, decline in visitors for The Lucky Duck, and The Luckier Duck was not meeting expectations either. This story had to disappear. People have to stop thinking about that awful man and his boring maid.

Annette had been toying with the idea of paying off the maid. She'd had to do so before to clean up a few of Robert's less discrete amusements. It shouldn't take more than a couple of hundred dollars to keep her trap closed. She was loathe to part with her money to someone so intimate with a brute like Richard, however.

Annette was in her office at The Lucky Duck, going over the last week's books, which she had been neglecting since Robert's accident when her secretary came to inform her that she had an urgent call.

"Mrs. Anderson?" The voice on the line was vaguely familiar, but Annette had a problem placing it.

"Yes, who is this? I was told this call was urgent. Please state your business," Annette brusquely said. She had no time for timewasters.

"It's Lupe. Lupe Cervantes. Perhaps you've read about me in the papers? Or perhaps you remember that I used to work for your friend Dorothy?"

Annette rolled her eyes at her cheek. "Yes, of course, I remember you, you troublesome bitch. What is it that you want from me?" A few hundred dollars and an agreement for silence?

"I would like to meet with you to discuss the situation we find ourselves in," Lupe suggested. "Somewhere quiet where we won't get our pictures taken. I've had my picture taken every time I leave this hotel, it's getting quite annoying."

"Come to The Lucky Duck," Annette offered immediately. "Tomorrow. It's usually dead in the early afternoon."

"I was thinking more like a neutral area-"

"Let me be blunt, Lupe," Annette interrupted her. "I want this to go away, and if I harm you or attempt to harm you in my own damned casino that would be the opposite of what you want. Bring a friend or something if that makes you feel better, but not that damnable Richard."

There was a pause while Lupe was considering it. "Very well. I will find someone. I will see you tomorrow around one then, yes?"

"Yes." Annette hung up without saying goodbye or any other perfunctory salutation. Hopefully, this would all be over soon and we can get back to normal- she suddenly remember that Robert was in a coma and burst into tears.

Lupe showed up the next day at the appointed time with a thin woman in her early 60s with salt-and-pepper hair and bright red lipstick. The Lucky Duck wasn't completely abandoned, but only a few gamblers were hitting the slot machines at this slow hour. Annette directed them to an empty blackjack table.

Lupe was certainly better dressed now that she was unemployed – she had apparently gotten her little claws on Richard's wallet. Her light blue dress was smartly cut and a black and gold fascinator was perched in her hair.

Annette warily regarded the other woman. "Who's this?"

"Emilia Vencetti. I'm her business associate," answered the other woman, whose pink and black dress was noticeably less fashionable than Lupe's. "I'm a canny old bird, that's my business and let's leave it at that."

Annette narrowed her eyes. "What are you getting at?"

Lupe smiled politely as they sat down. "You said I could bring someone to make me more comfortable, correct?"

"Business associate, huh? You've been busy since I saw you last. Were you followed here by those parasitic photographers?" Annette questioned. She had no desire to have this bribe made public and she doubted Lupe did either.

"I was, but I lost them. I've gotten quite good at it over the past week."

"Good. Shall we get down to it then?" Annette pointedly did not offer either of them anything to drink.

"Please," Lupe said.

"Now, this whole situation, it's gotten out of hand," Annette began. "For everyone involved, and I think the smart thing, for everyone involved, is to move forward. So, let's discuss how to move forward." A couple of hundred dollars should send her eyes spinning like a slot machine reel, I imagine.

Lupe gave Annette an appraising look. "What do you think it's going to take to move forward?"

Annette figured she'd try to lowball her. "How do three hundred dollars sound to you?"

Lupe didn't give Annette the excited reaction she had been hoping for. "No, Annette, I think it's going to cost more than that to move forward," Lupe coolly replied.

"How much more?" Annette cautiously asked.

"Before I name my price, let me tell you what I am selling. Namely, I don't tell anyone what happened that night in the hotel, and neither does Richard. And I will even do you one better – I will make a little story to the papers about how 'oh, this was all misunderstanding, it's really very tragic how it ended, but you know how men get over a woman.' No one needs to know what your husband was getting up to. Oh, and I agree, in writing, to never press criminal or civil charges against you or your husband for the activities that night," Lupe explained. "I can have this all written up, legally. I will, actually, I need to have all this in writing."

Annette hesitated before replying. This was starting to sound a lot more expensive than she had hoped. "Let's say I want those things. What do you want in exchange."

"Your property in Little Eden," Lupe demanded.

Annette laughed loudly at this demand. "You're mad. Absolutely not. It's worth a hundred times what I'd pay you for discretion. I must admit, you've got more nerve than I would have imagined."

"We aren't here to discuss my associate's nerve," Emilia interjected. "We are here to hammer out a business deal."

"You are not getting that property," Annette firmly said. "Five hundred dollars."

"The storefronts then," Lupe counter-offered. "I don't want the residentials above, seems like too much work anyway."

"One thousand, you're not going to get a better offer than that," Annette said, but she was no longer as confidently firm as she had been.

They went back and forth, offers and counteroffers, with that odd Emilia jumping in every now and then to back-up Lupe's demands. Finally, they agreed – one retail space, 500 square feet in diameter, for Lupe to legally own. The property was the largest retail space and honestly, Annette wasn't heartbroken about seeing it go. The last three businesses that had rented from her had gone out of business within a few months, so it had been a bit of an annoyance. The current tenant was two months into a six-month contract and Annette doubted that they'd make their month next month.

"I will have an attorney draft up a transfer contact immediately," Lupe said, although not as happy as one receiving a decent-sized piece of Little Eden should be.

An attorney? Richard's attorney, don't act as though you're doing this on your own. "Tell me, as one businesswoman to another, was this your plan all along?"

Lupe gave her an odd look. "This would be a hell of a thing to organize in advance, wouldn't it?"

Annette rolled her eyes. "I mean did you plan to use Richard's resources like this. It's not your attorney on retainer writing these contracts, now is it?"

Lupe shrugged. "You ever clean someone else's house? I'm going to guess not. It's not so bad, not really. Neither is working at a store or waitressing. There's nothing bad about working pretty much any job out there. But what's bad is the way people treat you. The way Dorothy treated me, and my manager at the store, and the guy who owned my contract down here, and so on. They treat you like an absolute nothing, not even a person, but like equipment. No, they treat equipment better, because a hydraulic press or an oven cost money to replace, but you can always dig up more workers for cheap. I don't want to get treated like filth again, just because I have less. Now I have something. Are you asking me was it my plan to get something? Of course. That's why everyone came here."

"That's not really an answer, now is it?" Annette scoffed at her. "And perhaps your attitude was the problem, not your employers."

"Annette, I think a day is going to come sooner or later when it will be your problem as well." There was an air of finality in her voice. "The sooner this contract is signed, the sooner we can all move on."

Emilia stood to go at this and Lupe left with her. Annette lit a cigarette and watched them go. She had hoped to never lay eyes on Lupe again after today, but it looked like they were going to be neighbors. She seemed business-minded enough. Money paves the way out of most problems, and now that's she's got a little nibble hopefully she won't make any more trouble.