SMOKE AND ASHES
Although Belle is still wary of her mysterious benefactor, she has accepted his job offer and has availed herself of his generosity to gather furnishings for her lovely new apartment. She has also met one of her charming neighbors.
Meanwhile her benefactor continues to wonder about the true nature of his newest tenant.
Chapter 3
Realization
As if in response to Belle's thought, there was a timid knocking on the door.
She opened the door and there was another pretty blond there. A young woman, probably only a bit older than she was and only a little taller.
"Hi, I'm Ashley. I'm from 2C, just down the hall," the young woman said breathlessly. "Mr. Gold asked me if I would take you shopping. He said you were going to need clothes and sheets and towels and stuff."
"Come in, Ashley. I'm Lacey," she stepped back so the other woman could come in.
Ashley gave the empty apartment a quick look around, "You really don't have anything do you? Well, been there myself. Mr. G. gave me a wad of cash and asked if I would take you out to a Target or somewhere. Is now good?"
Belle hesitated for only a moment, "Yeah, sure. He gave you how much?"
"I didn't count it, a bunch of twenties, but he told me to spend however much it took and bring him the change. Come on. My car's at the main garage on Rankin."
Belle grabbed the 'new' coat and her backpack. "Wait a moment. If I'm going to be getting some new things, I don't guess I need to carry these old things." She darted into the bathroom and emptied out the old clothes out of her backpack. She took a couple of deep breaths – this was a soul-searing moment and put her on another plane of trust – abandoning her stuff, her precious stuff. But the bag was much lighter without her having to carry every piece of clothing she owned. She stuffed her old clothes in the cabinet under the sink – no need to leave her possessions out in the open where somebody might see them and take them.
She followed Ashley out and up the street. Ashley proved to be a pleasant, friendly companion.
Belle asked her how she had gotten to know Mr. Gold.
"Oh, what a story! I was having all these problems with my family. I was living with my step-mom and step-sisters. You wouldn't believe. It was so bad. I was thinking about hurting myself, I mean, really dealing with some bad stuff, you know. Anyway, this old guy shows up and tells me he'd been a friend of my father's. My father had died about five years earlier. And he'd been a friend of my father's and wanted to know if I wanted to come and live in Asheville and he had a place for me to stay and would help me find a job and I just couldn't turn it down and I took him up on his offer. My step-mother didn't give a shit about what happened to me so there was no problem on that end. Well, I've never looked back. At first I worked cleaning his shop, like I was his maid, but then I found a better job up at Tops Shoe store. I'm one of their best sales people. I also work part-time at the co-op on Broad River. I'm the Vegetable Girl. I know all about pumpkins and stuff and I'm making decent money now. And I've met the nicest guy, a real prince. We're dating pretty regularly if you know what I mean. I've been thinking of going back to school for my business degree and Mr. Gold has really encouraged me to do that."
Ashley talked on and on . . . and on. It was some time before Belle could ask one of the questions she had, "What can you tell me about Mr. Gold?"
"Not much. He's really rich, I know that. And knows everybody who's important. I don't know if he's ever been married, but I think he had a flaming affair with some woman a while ago. There 's nobody right now that he's with. He's totally not gay if that's what you're asking. But I've never known him to even go out on a date. He takes a lot of us out for dinner on occasion, but it's always completely business-like. What do they call it, platonic? He asks how are things going for us. Do we need anything? It's like you're out with your grandfather, if you follow my drift. Now there are plenty of gorgeous women in our building but he's never hit on any of us. Now some of us have hit on him. Like Milah. She lives on the fourth floor and I think she's tried everything to get his attention, but he keeps sending her back to her room with her tail tucked between her legs. I think if he were to go for anybody it might be Emma or Regina. He always seems to be giving them special attention."
Belle remembered the confident blonde. "I've met Emma. Who's Regina?"
"She lives next to Milah on the fourth floor. She is like really smart and works in the Mayor's office."
"Nice," Belle replied. Milah was the tramp who kept hitting on the man, right? And pretty, self-possessed Emma was one of his favorites, along with this smart woman, Regina. Ashley continued talking on, not stopping until they pulled into the Target. Ashley grabbed a buggy and headed to housewares. "You need sheets, pillows, pillowcases, a couple of towels, a shower curtain and soap and toilet paper and dishwashing detergent and shampoo. . . ." Ashley moved efficiently through the megabox store, tossing things aplenty into the buggy. They also stopped to pick up some underwear (bras and panties), some socks and tights, three airy skirts, several long sleeved tee's and several cheap tank tops along with two sweaters. Belle also found herself another pair of shoes, some little black flats that looked more feminine than her current worn out tennis shoes. And, on a whim, she picked up a hairbrush and, on an impulse, an inexpensive lipstick. Ashley took her through the checkout and paid for everything.
"We probably need to stop at a grocery store, too. Mr. Gold said you'd probably want to buy some bread and milk and eggs and stuff. He said that you didn't have anything in your apartment." Ashley pulled them into a Publix and she grabbed another buggy and began piling things into it with both hands. Basic food stuffs, cheese, sliced turkey, mustard, eggs, and so forth. They ended up with five bags of groceries and that was with Belle trying to keep things to a bare minimum.
Back at their building, Ashley swung into the loading zone and helped Belle get things out of the car and into the locked lobby of the building. Ashley left Belle while she went back to Rankin to park the car in the garage. Mr. Gold came out and helped Belle bring the bags up to the apartment.
Belle was concerned that the man, who really did seem to depend on his cane, felt it necessary to help her carry her groceries and the myriad of other purchases.
"I can do this myself," she protested. "Who's minding the store?" she had to ask him.
"I think things will be all right for a couple of moments," he murmured to her. He looked over the bags. "Looks like you did all right with Miss Ashley."
"She was wonderful, most helpful," Belle had to give her that.
"Excellent. She'll be happy you gave her a good report. Now why don't you put up what needs to get taken care of immediately and then come down and have some lunch with me."
Belle hesitated. "I was planning on fixing a sandwich here."
"I'll order out for us," he told her. "You come and join me. I'll make tea."
She sensed he was not making a request. She nodded. "All right. I have some things to get into the fridge."
"Then I'll see you shortly. I'll order us bento boxes from Heiwa Shokudo. They're practically right across the street and they're used to making deliveries to me."
Belle took a moment after he had left and changed into some of her new clothes, a long blue skirt, a white tank top and a black sweater along with her new black flats. She brushed her hair back but realized she didn't have anything to tie it back with, so she twisted it up on top of her head. She put on the new lipstick.
When she went down stairs and into the pawn shop, he was waiting. There were already two takeout boxes on his counter. She felt his eyes flicker over her and saw a very slight smile come onto his face. He liked what he saw.
"You clean up nicely, Miss Lacey," he told her and led the way, carrying the boxes, back behind the curtain into the alcove. There was one chair already set behind the table and Mr. Gold found another chair, dumping the stack of papers on it onto the sofa that Belle had used for a bed the previous night.
"Thank you. I thought these clothes would be more suitable for the job you want me to do."
"Definitely," he told her but she caught him looking at her lips. She hoped he wouldn't think it frivolous that she had spent his money on something so unnecessary as lipstick.
She ate lunch with him, enjoying the unusual food, glancing up from time to time to smile at him. He had such beautiful eyes. And she couldn't help but notice his long fingers skillfully manipulating the chopsticks.
Gold couldn't help but appreciate her transformation. Damn, but she had cleaned up nicely. She had looked adequate enough at breakfast in the over-sized clothing and her hair still damp from the shower. But now. He was especially touched by her little touch of vanity, the pretty pink lipstick on those perfect full lips. He suspected he should be flattered – she had likely done that for him. He had not expected her to be this pretty. Emma had said she was curvy but the bulky clothes had obscured her pleasant little body. . . now, with the new clothes, in the full light, he could see the luminescent pale skin, the dark chestnut curls with rich golden highlights, the blue eyes full of sparkle. . . . She was exquisite. With a shy little smile. . .
He shook himself.
And young enough to pass as his daughter!
What was he thinking?! After lecturing to Milah that he would not, could not get involved with any of the tenants here he was having improper thoughts about this latest little tidbit to move into the building.
He needed to be focused on awakening her Talent. He wished he had an inkling of just what she was able to do.
"Why don't I go ahead and pick up a couple of hours of work this afternoon? You've been so generous, I'd like to see you getting some of your investment back," she gave him a sweet smile and cleaned up after their lunch. She foraged around the workroom and found a couple of cloths that would do for dusting. She found some spray furniture polish and some glass cleaner. She began to the right of his main center counter and began to work her way, top down, on each display around the room.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was focused on the dusting as if it was a most important job. Apparently a conscientious worker. She would occasionally trip over things stacked on the floor or run into furniture. Apparently a clumsy girl. She found a step stool and would climb onto it to reach the top of some of the displays and bigger pieces of furniture. He held his breath, half expecting the little uncoordinated thing to trip and fall off the stool but fortunately no such mishap occurred, although she dropped the can of furniture polish more than once and misplaced the glass cleaner any number of times. He found himself watching her trim ankles and dainty feet when she went up and down the little step stool. Very nice little feet encased in simple black shoes.
He could also hear her humming while she worked. Humming?! She was humming? Like she was happy or something?! He watched awhile but despite his misgivings and preconceptions, she didn't knock over anything valuable or fall on her face. He was wondering about asking her out for an evening meal but then remembered that he had an appointment with Milah. He was sooo not looking forward to sitting across from Milah while she tried to play footsie . . . and handsie . . . and lipsie. Besides, Miss Lacey might think him asking her out for a third meal was too weird after he had insisted on her company for breakfast and again for lunch. She was already quite jumpy and he didn't want to scare her off.
He took a moment to look at her. To really look at her. Interesting aura. Quiet, mostly silvers and serene purples to watercolor blues with little flashes of red reflecting her fears, her anxieties. Unusual, like she wasn't quite human. But not like Ruby, his little shape shifter, who was definitely not human. He continued to study her. He closed to eyes to better see her with his inner eye.
Shit?!
Stunned, he startled, upsetting the tea cup he was drinking from. It hit the floor with a clunk and a chink.
He sat bolt upright.
She was half fairy!
There it was, the little dainty, delicate webbing that proclaimed her fairy blood. How could he have missed it?
He hated fairies!
They were all lousy, lying bitches.
(Alright, there might be one single exception. One single fairy in all the overworld and underworld kingdoms that he had some modicum of tolerance for. One single fairy that had never tried to screw him over. But that single exception was an outcast from fairydom.)
"Is everything all right?" Belle must have heard the cup hit the floor. She was checking on him.
"Yeah, I accidently knocked my cup over. Everything is fine," he explained. "It's excellent, no problem, copasetic, it's ok, it's just ducky, it's all good." Good grief, he sounded like an idiot.
Belle looked at him like he was not quite all together and slowly returned to her dusting.
He took a couple of deep breaths and settled himself back down. He considered her parentage. One of them had no doubt seduced some poor smoe, had his baby and then abandoned both when she got bored. Typical flightly, irresponsible fairy. Their offspring were often left without guidance and would end up with all kinds of problems, often unbalanced and unsatisfied. Was Miss Lacey any different?
Yeah, yeah, of course, he and the fairies were supposed to be on the same side.
Well, right now at least.
How had his life come to this? On the same side as the bloody fairies!
He retrieved the cup. Damn, there was a big chip out of the rim. There was a moment that he found himself glaring at the girl, like it was her fault but he quickly righted himself. It was just a cup.
At that moment, two rather burly men came in, Mr. Dove and another helper, Mr. Blue. They began to carry the furniture she had selected up the stairs. At Mr. Gold's suggestion Belle went upstairs with them to tell them where to put the furniture. She was coming back down the stairs after the deliveries and nearly ran into a tall, slender young man who was on his way up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
"Well hello," the young man said to her skidding to a stop. He stepped back and looked her over. "Oh, please, please tell me that you're our new tenant, in 2A?"
"I am. I'm Lacey," Belle introduced herself. This was an attractive fellow, dressed with a distinctive flair.
"Delighted," the young man actually bowed to her. "I'm Jefferson, in 3A, directly above you. You've got to be exhausted just from the hassle of moving in. Allow me, please, to take you to supper. We'll just walk down the street."
Belle was slightly taken back. "Uhm. . . I."
"Don't tell me our Mr. Gold has already asked you out. I should have expected he would be monopolizing your time. He tends to do that with a new tenant."
Belle made up her mind, "Actually Mr. Gold has been very generous and very helpful. But I don't have supper plans and I'd be delighted to share a meal with you."
"Pick you up at . . . seven?" he asked.
"Perfect," Belle told him. She smiled at him and he changed directions and walked alongside her down the stairs and followed her back into the shop. Belle picked up her dust cloth and went back to work.
"Everything moved in satisfactorily?" Mr. Gold asked her while he nodded at Jefferson.
"It's perfect," she told him. "Thank you so much for all your help." She went back to her dusting.
Jefferson held back, watching her walk away with a high level of male appreciation, watching her until she disappeared towards the back of the shop.
In a low tone he spoke to Gold. "Delightful. I'm smelling fairy blood."
"I should have had you sniff her before I asked her to stay," Gold told him with just a touch of acerbity.
"Oh, you must have just figured that out?" Jefferson, knowing a little of Gold's history with the fairies, thought this was funny. "Have you figured out any of her Talents?"
Gold pursed his lips. Jefferson was insanely Talented, an Air Elements master, with a fair amount of telekinetic ability – Gold had often felt that in the right circumstances the man could probably teleport himself. Plus, he was very good at detecting the Talents of others, picking up not only their major Gift but often other minor skills.
Jefferson was grinning at him. He knew that Gold was ten times, hell, probably a hundred times more talented than the rest of the group, probably all of them put together. His abilities occurred maybe once in every ten generations. But he had his weaknesses. He saw too much and it often took him a moment¸ even many moments, to sieve the relevant from the irrelevant. Jefferson's Vision was sharper.
"Do you want me to tell you?" Jefferson teased.
"Spit it out," Gold ordered.
Jefferson dropped his voice to a whisper, "She's an Empath."
Gold winced. Empaths were extremely rare.
They could read feelings the way telepaths read thoughts. They were kind, gentle souls, adept at diplomacy and therapy.
And to his mind, they were totally useless.
They could end up understanding the enemy to the point of not wanting to take action against them. Totally passive beings. He glanced over to where the very fine Miss Lacey was dusting. Frail, delicate, vulnerable. More likely a liability than an asset.
What had The House been thinking or feeling or whatever the hell The House did? Inviting her in when he needed a warrior! Someone good with weapons, like Mary Margaret or even sneaky Killian who could charm the birds from the trees or, more usefully, slip up behind someone and put a knife into them without a sound.
What good would an Empath be in a war?
Jefferson told him he was to take the little Empath out to supper that evening and he would try to find out more.
Gold asked him to come by after the evening out and share. He confessed that he had an appointment with Milah at eight.
"With Milah? Have you finally succumbed to her charms?" Jefferson was surprised.
"Strictly business, I assure you," Gold told him.
"Well," Jefferson was headed toward the door to the lobby, "Do watch out. She bites." Jefferson was laughing at Gold's discomforture and he left him sitting alone, sulking behind his desk. Gold sat there silently for the remainder of the afternoon, his mood perking up as he got the opportunity to interact and deal with different customers.
Belle would hear the little bell on the door jingle each time someone came in. She could see many of the customers from her current vantage and could overhear the interchanges between her enigmatic employer and the unusual array of customers.
Many came in to sell him something. He was always calm and careful, and, as far as she could tell, would give them a fair price.
One attractive, very much in love, couple came in, a cute, young couple. The wife was just beginning to show. They were looking for something for the baby's room. Gold came out from behind the desk and began to show them different things, leading them back to a beautiful dream catcher. This one had the odd crystal woven into it and so would sparkle when the sun caught it.
"This might be something you'd be interested in," he told them. "It'll offer your boy protection against evil spirits."
"How'd you know we were having a boy?" the woman asked him, surprised.
"You didn't mention it. I guess I'm just intuitive," he said with a smile.
The couple bought the dream catcher.
Another young man came in and Gold sold him an Egyptian ankh cross, also for protection.
"Thanks dude," the young man told him.
Gold nodded and gave the young man a thumbs up.
And then there was a nervous young woman. He sold her a sterling silver pentagram.
"Blessed be," the young woman told him, immediately putting it around her neck.
"And to you, sister," he'd replied.
Later, Belle heard another woman talking with him. It was a loud conversation, sounding more like an argument. Belle slipped around and saw Mr. Gold talking with a stunning brunette. She seemed to be showing him something on a piece of paper, "I did this all by myself," she was saying.
"Adequate," he had responded.
"What?! This is excellent! Why do you always have to be such a dick, Gold?" the woman raised her voice.
"Because I know you are capable of better work," he answered keeping his voice low.
"What would you have me improve upon?" the woman was shouting at him.
"Details, more details, clearer details. This is about as good as I could download off the Internet," he had retorted in a low, soft voice. "We have to get the south section and this is a piece of crap."
The woman had glared at him as she had pulled back the paper she had given him. "Bite me," she had sniped at him and then had stiffly walked away toward the lobby door, her shiny patent leather high heels clicking on the wooden floor. She slammed the door behind herself.
One of the building's tenants, no doubt.
Then there was a shy red-headed man. "I think I've identified four more," he told Gold in hushed tones.
"You think?"
"I have identified four more," the man repeated with a bit more confidence.
"Where?"
"All of them on the outskirts of town. They're just watching."
"That would make sense. Go ahead and put them, as best you can, on The Map. Good job."
"Thank you sir. I'll do that and keep working on it. I'll let you know if I identify any others."
And Belle also heard him leave through the lobby door. Another tenant.
And shortly after another man poked his head in from the hallway that led up the stairs. He was a short, stocky individual, balding, a bit rough looking.
"Got it," he told Gold, giving him a thumbs up as he briefly stopped.
Belle was curious. What was all this about? What had he gotten? Identifying 'watchers?' And what was that other woman up to – drawing a map of some sort? And they all reported to Mr. Gold.
She didn't have the sense they were a criminal organization setting up some sort of bank heist. She reached out very gingerly, very carefully. Mr. Gold had this odd sheen around him. Last night he had felt different, odd, but very powerful. Now all that was apparent again, although even more power than she had first thought. It fairly rippled off of him. She could see him in her mind's eye well enough, as if he stood at the center of layers of protection and . . . she didn't know what to call it. . . magic?
He glanced over at her and gave her a small smile.
Nervously, she smiled back.
What had she gotten herself into?
I want to thank all of my wonderful reviewers (this story has a bit of a slow start so please hang with me as I will be continuing with the slow reveal). Thanks for the wonderful reviews from: orthankg1, thedoctorsgirl42, The Prince's Phoenix, emospritelet, Aletta-Feather, cynicsquest, RoxyMoron, Grace5231973, Ying-Fa-dono, Chauchi, MyraValhallah, mockorangeflower, RaFire,
and
Anne Andrews (Guest), Guest (spin a tale), guest (ooh loving), Guest (Hooked), Erik'sTrueAngel (Guest)
Next: Belle shares an insight
Belle gets supper with Mr. Jefferson