I do not own anything from Charlie and the Chocolate factory. All rights and likenesses belong to Roald Dahl, Johnny Depp and Tim Burton. I wouldn't mind a few Oompa Loompas though to help out around the house in exchange for obscene amounts of Nutella though. – Stealth Phoenix
Chapter 6
Willy felt a great surge of relief at Ms. Carmichael's agreement. The hard part was done and now time was of the essence.
"Excellent! I am so pleased you agreed Ms. Carmichael – you really don't know how grateful I am," he burbled seizing her outstretched hand and shaking it enthusiastically.
A smile lit her face as well making her eyes dance with mischief, "Not as relieved as I am Mr. Wonka. However, not to sound mercenary or anything, but can we discuss wages and other such things now? Please forgive my rather pressing need on that topic."
Willy released her hand and gestured for her to take a seat on the transparent floor. She slid to the floor to sit in a cross-legged position and he quickly did the same. "I was thinking of something in the neighborhood of €500,000.
Veronica froze again, her eyes locked on the Chocolatier, "Half a million? For a project over the course of six weeks?"
"Isn't that enough?"
Shock was fading quickly, "It's more than generous. It just makes me wonder what kind of stipulations you're going to place on how I work to earn that kind of money."
Willy shook his head, "Nothing that strange – in fact I want to ensure you have a top quality worksite and the best materials to work with that money can buy. I'll pay for all that separately since the remodeling or revision would easily eat that amount up. The bit you may find strange would be the security precautions I warned you about."
She nodded warily, "Go on."
"Once we determine a location for your kitchen, I want my workers to come by and install security measures. I mean, key codes, locks, and my own patented alarm system. You don't know the lengths my competitors will go through in attempts to steal my secrets, Ms. Carmichael. I'm also going to have to insist on access limited only to you and I – no visitors."
Veronica agreed – and offered a suggestion, "Actually, I live in a building with several offices. The office on the top floor is currently vacant and has sufficient work space and lighting. Would that be a satisfactory work area? Add in a stairwell between the office and my apartment and I'd never have to leave the building."
He pursed his lips in thought for a moment. Having her work and live in the same building cut down on the chance of a spy working their way in. People tended to be more protective of their own personal space than a separate workplace. Willy also wasn't as naïve as he used to be – Mr. Carmichael seem altruistic, but she could also want a free remodeled apartment too. He wanted to see the place before he agreed though.
"It might work, I want to see it first." He said grudgingly.
Veronica cocked her head and grinned, "Brilliant! In that case – can you get this thing to my apartment building?"
The both stood. Veronica grabbed one of the purple straps as Willy maneuvered the Wonkavator out of the cloudbank to hover over empty air again. "It's over there on the edge of town by the u-bend in the river – see it there?"
"Hang on – we'll have a bit of fun getting there. That is, unless you want to be a bit more sedate in our approach?" one slim brow rose over the top of his goggles.
She grinned at the challenge, "Oh, please don't hold back on my account Mr. Wonka. There hasn't been a roller coaster yet made that could make me ill."
Veronica was cackling with glee as they came to a gentle landing on the rooftop of her building. Her sides hurt with effort of too much laughter and squeals of excitement. "You are a virtual aerobatic ace in your contraption Mr. Wonka, in addition to making some pretty good chocolate."
Mr. Wonka sniffed, "Only 'pretty-good' chocolate? My dear Ms. Carmichael – I am the world's best Chocolatier. 'Pretty good' is damning me with faint praise."
"You're so modest as well."
"It isn't boasting if it happens to be true."
They exited and Veronica wrestled the bike out of the Wonkavator. She rolled the bike to the side and leaned it to rest against the two foot wall that bordered the roof. She glanced over the side and briefly considered dropping the bloody thing off the top of the roof rather than attempting to get it down the narrow stairwell. No – although the thought was delightful.
She led the way over to the fire door and gestured for Mr. Wonka to follow. She grabbed the handle and pulled…
…and pulled…
…and really got into it, resting her feet on either side of the door and pulled with her full, currently insufficient, weight.
Finally, she had to concede defeat. Panting she turned to Mr. Wonka, who was watching the performance with a smirk of enjoyment.
"Excuse me for a moment. I will try opening it from the other side," she said politely before walking to an edge of the roof and jumping off.
His heart in his throat at her apparently suicidal gesture, he shot over to the edge and peered over, expecting to see her splattered all over the pavement below.
Instead, he saw her climbing down the fire escape of the building with monkey-like agility. She paused and looked up at him with a smirk of her own and waved before disappearing into an open window.
Irritated at her for startling him, Willy returned to the fire door to wait. After a moment a few bangs on the door from inside indicated that Ms. Carmichael had returned. "Um, it's still stuck – could you try pulling from that side, while I work on it from here?" she called from the other side of the door.
He briefly considered the door, reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small aerosol can of disinfectant. He gingerly sprayed the door handle, before nodding in satisfaction returning the can to his coat. Then he tentatively grasped the handle and yelled, "Ready when you are."
"On the count of three then…" she called.
"Right. One!" he replied
"Two!"
"Three!" they both yelled and applied their strength to the stubborn door. There was a moment of hesitation, and then the door flew open. Willy was thrown to the rooftop in surprise and an equally surprised Ms. Carmichael was flung forward and her head me in violent impact Willy's knee. Hat, goggles and cane went flying and she landed on the gravel roof with an inelegant belly flop.
"Ow!"
"Aargh!"
He sat up to rub his abused knee while Ms. Carmichael rolled onto her back clutching her eye with a grimace of pain on her face. "Are you significantly hurt?" he asked, glancing at her.
She hesitantly sat up and started to slowly climb to her feet. "Not really, just a few scrapes and I'll have to take a look at the eye to see."
Willy climbed to his feet, returned the hat to his head and gently grasped her chin to turn her head to the light to see the damage. A watering eye surrounded by puffed flesh met his gaze – golden green iris with brown and amber flecks winced at the light. "You're going to have a bit of a shiner I'm afraid."
Ms. Carmichael shrugged and handed him his goggles and cane. "Ah well, wouldn't be the first time. Come on down to my apartment and I'll put some ice on this to try and keep the swelling down."
The mildly battered woman turned to head down the now open stairwell, and he unobtrusively removed his gloves and replaced them with a fresh pair, stuffing the used pair into his pocket.
Ms. Carmichael pointed out a doorway with a steel door and bolt lock on the landing below the roof level. "That's the space I was talking about. "
She pushed the door open and walked into the space, "Since the building is a key-code controlled entry, they tend to leave the unoccupied offices unlocked and rely on the rest of us to check in every now and then. It's just me and a group of architects on the level below me. The building manager is a bit desperate for new occupants and I'm sure you could get a good deal if you thought it might work."
Willy walked into the cavernous space. An angled roof was plated with white translucent glass letting in plenty of natural light without compromising privacy, open duct work and brick walls left the room open for a lot of space. Aged wooden floors covered were covered in dust. The area reminded him of the factory he had bought and eventually refurbished on a much smaller scale.
A good place for dreams to be born.
"This will do quite nicely. How close is your apartment from here?" he asked turning to his companion.
"Downstairs from here – follow me."
By the time they entered her humble apartment, Veronica's eye had purpled dramatically. She excused herself to the bathroom and hurriedly gulped down a few Ibuprofen, cleaned and bandaged her scraped hands, briefly examined her bruised elbows and grabbed the ice bag.
As she filled the ice bag she watched as Mr. Wonka examined her apartment. The air was fresh with the smell of pine and bleach from her last cleaning spree and the candy globes glinted in the afternoon light.
He poked a gloved hand at the globes, "Great idea – these are nicely done. Charlie and I were thinking about something similar, but hadn't got around to developing anything yet. If you don't mind, I'd like to help you market them if you're interested."
Veronica could hardly believe the massive change in fortune over the last three hours. She'd gone from nearly broke and homeless, to being offered a lucrative project and an offer to market the very candy globes that she'd been slaving away on since the food network fiasco. She really had to shake her head in amazement.
"That would be wonderful Mr. Wonka. I haven't had much luck getting anyone interested in these up to this point," She said moving to place the bag over her injured eye. "Would you care for anything to drink?" she asked belatedly, remembering that she was now a hostess.
"Urg…no thank you," he visibly shuddered and for a moment she felt like she had overstepped her boundaries with the man.
Mr. Wonka had noticed her hurt expression and sighed, sometimes it was hard to remember how to interact with people.
Changing topic rapidly he asked, "So, now that we have a work location selected, I know a good contractor who can turn that into a working kitchen in about a week – you just need to specify what equipment you need."
She nodded and then offered, "Since we have limited time, I would also like to offer up ideas for your consideration and try to figure out candy formulations while the kitchen gets constructed. My kitchen here is good for small batches, so we wouldn't lose time that way."
Willy was momentarily stunned at the selfless offering of using her home as a temporary work facility, "That is very kind of you Ms. Carmichael, but I wouldn't want to impose. Surely you want your privacy?"
Veronica shrugged again, "It's not like I've got a swinging social life. You're the first person other than Reggie and Spencer to be here since I moved in."
"Who are Reggie and Spencer? You mentioned them in our phone call."
She blushed furiously at the memory of their phone call this morning – it made her eye throb uncomfortably. "Reggie is my brother and Spencer is his partner…I mean fiancé."
"Fiancé? I was under the impression that Spencer is a guy's name."
"It is."
Mr. Wonka shook his head, "I guess I've been out of the game longer than I thought. So gay marriages are legal now?"
"Not here in England – although there are a few places like Canada and some places in the colonies it is."
He shrugged, "Not my scene, but whatever makes them happy."
"That's my take on it. In either case, Reggie and Spencer are the only two people I would even consider talking to about this project. I won't though if it makes you uncomfortable."
He shook his head and finally deigned to take a seat on a stool by the kitchen counter. "No problems, like I said earlier, as long as they can keep it to themselves."
Veronica smiled gently to herself. Mr. Wonka was showing an unusual amount of sense – more than she had ever thought possible from his coverage in the media. She watched as he began to see how fast he could spin on the seat, only to overbalance and fall to the floor. This was a man who was comfortable in his own skin and didn't care what anyone else thought.
"Well then Mr. Wonka, in that case how about we meet here again tomorrow evening and I'll spend the day doing some research and putting together some ideas," she suggested and he leapt to his feet to straighten his hat again.
"Certainly, and I'll bring a few samples of my candy for flavors and textures as well as letting you take a look to check for suitability for your work."
Veronica was surprised, "I wasn't expecting that. How involved in this project do you plan on being?"
He leaned on the counter with his arms wide and violet eyes bright, "I'll tell you honestly, I'm going to try and be involved in the planning and testing as best as I can, but I'm leaving the actual execution up to you – my schedule isn't planned out on a day to day basis. I hope you don't mind working some eccentric hours."
She grinned wryly, "Nothing new there. I don't sleep much when something like this gets under my skin. I tend to get obsessed. Just give me a call first and if I don't answer, feel free to come over since I'll be up to my neck in work and won't hear the phone."
"Until tomorrow then, Ms. Carmichael." He gave a courtly tip to his hat and turned to leave the apartment, "See ya at about 8 p.m."
He let himself out, and she could hear his boots up the stairs. She moved to her small desk in the corner to grab pencils and paper to start brainstorming. A new thought came to her as she heard the Wonkavator's thrusters firing from the roof. A cruel grin lit her bruised features as she reset the ice bag to her black eye and started sketching.
Reggie and Spencer were going to shit when they heard this.