Sorry that I haven't updated in over a month. I should soon have more free time on my hands, so hopefully I'll be able to post sooner.
Was anyone else happy that OUaT returned Sunday? It really helped give me the spark back in writing this chapter.
Thank you to CharlotteAshmore for beta-ing this chapter. And thank you to everyone reading this story. I really appreciate it.
Now lets move on to the world of crime bosses and good little detectives trying to catch them...
Captain Mills nodded her head in praise. "Good work, French. Surviving a night with Gold."
Belle didn't point out that it wasn't really much of a pain to spend time with Mason. She had really enjoyed it. Of course, she wasn't about to tell Captain Mills that.
Belle, Emma, David, and the Captain were all centered inside Regina's office as usual. It was Monday morning, and they were reviewing her recorded date with Gold.
Ruby was out with the 'flu bug,' when Belle really knew she was just hung over from spending the night with some guy she met out drinking. Ruby's dedication to her job wasn't exactly inspiring.
"Though you flirted a little more than I expected," Captain Mills added.
Belle blushed, especially when Lieutenant Swan raised an eyebrow in her direction. "I, uh," Belle stammered, "thought it was part of the job. I can't let him onto our mission."
Captain Mills nodded again. "I agree. You did well. When are you meeting up again? The sooner, the better."
"We haven't made plans yet, but he said he would call me soon," Belle said. She was looking forward to that phone call, also something she wasn't going to mention to Captain Mills. She didn't want the Captain to question her loyalties. Belle was completely committed to exposing Gold. She wanted to do well at her job, and her moral compass couldn't let a suspected criminal run loose. But she still felt breathless when thinking of Mason's eyes staring intently into hers, and hearing his extremely attractive accent pass his lips. The man was handsome, she couldn't deny. She also couldn't deny the connection she felt with him, ever since they met. And it wasn't just books, which worried her. If she could blame everything on books, then her life would be simpler.
But at the end of the day, her job was more important. She kept giving herself little pep talks to stop thinking about Mason. If only pep talks actually worked. Mostly she found them useless, and only good for coming up with fun rhymes.
"When you do meet again, try to gain more information," Captain Mills said.
Belle nodded. "I'll try. I just think it will be easier to gain his trust first. Then he might open up to me more."
"Of course, French." Regina settled herself in her chair. "I just need to be patient. Knowing that we might actually catch Gold...well I'm too wired. You did a good job," she repeated.
Belle smiled her thanks.
"In the meantime," Emma said, "David will still try to get information out of Jefferson. He doesn't sound like the brightest in the bunch."
David snorted. "You're right. He doesn't seem that way. Either he really isn't smart, or he's just a good actor." He shook his head. "I can't tell which."
Captain Mills, her hands underneath her chin, suddenly sat up in her chair. "Nolan, I have an idea. Go to Gold's company, and try to find...well anything you can get your hands on."
"With respect, Captain," Emma said, raising her hand, "but doesn't that seem risky. We can't let Gold see him, for fear Jefferson might report something. We don't want David getting caught."
"Oh, I know. But we're dealing with a lot of 'ifs' and assumptions." Regina waved a hand at David. "Nolan can go scope out Gold's office. Not his actual 'office,' but see if any secretaries know something. Any business colleagues. Nolan's smart. He won't let on to being a detective. Will you?"
David shook his head. "Of course not. I'll see what I can turn up."
"Even though it probably won't be much," Emma muttered.
Regina sighed. "I know, but we're grasping at straws here. We have to do something."
After they were dismissed, it was around noon. Belle decided to take her lunch break, since there wasn't much for her to work on at the moment. Until Mason called again, Belle was back to being a rookie.
She'd just entered the elevators, when a man hurriedly came in after her before the doors shut. They smiled politely at each other. Belle snuck a look out of the corner of her eye at him, and noticed that he was tall with black hair. He was pretty cute. Belle had seen him around the precinct before, but they had never really communicated much. Jones, she thought his name was. Not exactly knowing his name was bothering her that she felt compelled to ask.
Though, right as she opened her mouth to speak, her cut her off.
"You're an assistant to Emma Swan, correct?" he asked, a British accent lilting over his words.
"Oh," Belle said, not having been prepared for him to talk. "Yes, but I think you mean Lieutenant Swan."
The man smirked. "Of course, love. Lieutenant Swan. That was rude of me to call her otherwise."
Belle waved a hand. "That's all right." Not knowing what else to say, Belle just clasped her hands in front of her. Just as she started to open her mouth to ask him for his name, he cut in before she could get a word out. Again.
"Is she fun to work for?" At Belle's frown, he elaborated. "Swan. I bet she is. She seems like the woman who knows how to have a good time."
Belle's eyes widened, really not knowing what to say. She sighed when she saw that they had only passed two floors. Six more to go.
"But you wouldn't know that, would you?" He winked. "Being her assistant and all. Your relationship is strictly professional." He sounded like he was mocking her. She did not like to be mocked.
"Excuse me?" Belle turned to face him, her hands placed on her hips. "What's your name?"
"Oh, I'm sorry." He half bowed. "I'm Killian Jones. I work under Graham Humbert." He didn't exactly sound pleased by that.
Belle blushed at the over-the-top actions of the man. "Belle French."
"Nice to meet you, Belle." The way he said those words made Belle blush even more. He made her name sound like it was a secret. Something dirty. Killian seemed like the man who easily got what he wanted. He also seemed like the man who got underneath a woman's skin. Belle really didn't want to be stuck in an elevator with him much longer. He made her feel uncomfortable.
She breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator reached the main lobby floor, and the doors opened. Belle quickly walked out, leaving Killian to rush out after her.
"Belle, will you get in a good word to Swan for me?" he asked, grabbing her arm. She stopped walking in the middle of the lobby, people passing by at a quick pace.
"Why would I do that? She has a boyfriend." Belle continued walking after seeing the surprise on his face. She pushed open the doors that lead outside, Killian still following behind her.
"Who is he?"
Belle shook her head, wind blowing strands of hair in her face. She kept walking until she stood outside a little coffee shop. "His name his Neal Garner. Now would you please leave me alone?" She shot a pointed look at how close he was standing near her.
Killian raised his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to bother you. I just thought you could help me with Swan, was all." He continued smirking throughout their entire conversation, and Belle found it infuriating.
"You like her?" Belle asked, hesitantly, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear.
"Well, isn't it obvious, love? I mean, I did chase you down the street, begging for answers." He winked, again.
Belle sighed, rolling her eyes. "I'm sorry. I can't help you with Lieutenant Swan. Now, it's my lunch break, and I would like to go get some food."
Killian nodded, scrunching his lips. "All right. I'll leave." Just then, his eyes drifted over her head and narrowed. Belle started to turn and look, when Killian turned back to her, nodding his head in farewell. He strolled away, his hands slung casually in his coat pockets.
Belle shrugged her shoulders, and started to walk to the little café. When she turned toward the doors, she saw an unexpected sight. Slightly welcomed, and also slightly terrifying.
Mason Gold.
He was just walking down the street, getting closer to the café, like her, when their eyes met. His rose in surprise, but then an easy grin fell over his face. "Miss French."
She smiled, stepping closer to him. "Hello, Mr. Gold. What are you doing here?" She indicated with a hand the café in front of them.
"I could ask you the same question," he teased.
"I'm on my lunch break. This was close by."
He frowned. "Close by the flower shop?"
Belle paused, internally wincing. Her papa's flower shop was across town. Not exactly walking distance. "Uh, yeah." She paused again, trying to think quickly on her feet. Too bad she was terrible at improvisation. Maybe she wasn't cut out to be a detective, if she kept making stupid little mistakes. She was starting to irritate herself. "Yeah," she said again. "I was delivering some flowers to someone, and after I finished, I decided to come here."
He nodded, clearly believing her, though, after staring at her for a moment.
Then Belle realized something. She tilted her head. "How did you know where my dad's flower shop was?"
This time, it was Gold's turn to pause. He couldn't well tell her about her father's loan from him. Mr. 'Nelson' didn't seem like he wanted his daughter to know. Thankfully for Gold, he was always fast on his feet. "I make it my business to know where all flower shops are in the city of Boston."
Belle studied him, her eyes widening. A grin broke out on her face. "Why, Mr. Gold, did you look up where I work?"
Gold pretended to act sheepish. He folded his hand over his cane. "After you told me the name of the shop where you worked, I...might have found the website for Game of Thorns." He wasn't technically lying. He did look up the website for the shop, after their date. He couldn't help but be curious about Miss French.
Belle laughed. "Why? In the need for some flowers?" She bravely reached out and poked his chest with a finger. He raised his eyebrows at her act, trying not to laugh at her cute antics. "I thought you said flowers don't come up in your line of work."
He chuckled. "That's still true." He paused. "But maybe not anymore in my personal life." He steadily looked at her. Belle's breath caught, a blush breaking out over her face. Why did he have the effect on her? All he was talking about was flowers, and yet Belle felt like there was an underlining of something more. What though, she couldn't put her finger on.
Belle, trying to not show how confused she felt inside, changed the subject. "Why are you out and about today?"
"I was actually on my way to speak to a client." He nodded to where his parked car was next to the sidewalk. "They couldn't meet me at my office, so I told them I would meet them at their place of business instead."
"Oh? Where?" Belle quickly shook her head. "Unless of course you can't tell me. That was probably inappropriate of me," she muttered.
"Not at all, Miss French." He nodded to the building next to the café. It was a window repair shop, specializing in antique windows. "The owner and I have business to discuss."
Belle nodded, knowing that asking more would be inappropriate. "I hope I haven't been keeping you."
He waved a hand. "Not at all." He checked his watch. "I'm early, but I should head in soon."
"All right." She tried not to act disappointed, and then promptly internally rolled her eyes for being disappointed in the first place.
He began to turn, then paused, holding up a finger. "Miss French. I hope this isn't too soon, but I would love to take you out again this Friday."
Belle smiled, overjoyed about being asked out, both for her job, and for, well, being asked out. "I would love to. Have a nice day, Mr. Gold."
They parted ways, Belle heading into the little coffee shop, and Gold heading next door, but when he saw Belle enter the café, he stealthily turned away from the antique window shop and headed off down the street. He didn't have business to conduct with a client.
No, he had something far more unpleasant to deal with.
Gold entered the lobby of another law firm, this one specializing in divorce. He didn't want to tell Belle that he was going to his divorce court hearing. They only had one date, and he didn't want to scare her with talk of wives and divorces. He would tell her later about his shitty marriage, but a quick conversation on the street wasn't the time.
He snorted, rolling his eyes, when he took a seat, seeing that his soon to be ex-wife hadn't shown up yet. No surprise. Milah was never on time. Another reason to divorce her. Well, over the obvious fact that she cheated on him with the pool boy, Phil.
He settled himself in his seat, waiting for Milah to show. When she did, Gold wanted to hit something with his cane. Lately that was the reaction Milah stirred in him.
"Right on time," he said.
Milah sighed, sitting down in the seat across from him. "You don't have to be sarcastic, Mason. I made it with time to spare."
He checked his watch, raising his eyebrows. "You did. Good for you." He knew he was being condescending, and maybe it was a little petty, but seeing the scowl on Milah's face warmed his heart.
"I just want to get this over with," Milah said.
Gold scoffed. "Yes, and rescheduling the time from nine in the morning to one in the afternoon implies your speedy efficiency to get this divorce 'over with.'" He snorted, his fingers moving in air quotes. "Lying in bed until midmorning with your over cliché lover will surely go over well at the hearing."
Milah rolled her eyes. "It's not like we're going to trial. This is just preliminary business. After today, we'll be done with each other."
"Oh, I know. I'm a lawyer, after all."
"Ohhh," Milah drew out the word. "So, that's why you're so annoying."
Gold sighed, repressing the desire to hit himself over the head with his cane. This was going to be a long day.
And just because it was impossible for his wife to shut up, she continued speaking. "Are you still seeing that cheap secretary you were screwing? Cora? If you want to talk about over cliché lovers, then there it is at its finest." Despite the annoyance of her words, Gold couldn't help but admire her wit. It was what attracted him to Milah in the first place. Someone who could keep up with him.
He flicked a piece of hair from his face. "No, actually. I fired her, and let's just say she wasn't too keen with me afterwards."
Milah raised an eyebrow. "She actually liked her job? I thought she just liked it for the benefits you gave her."
"Well, she did. That's why I fired her. She was a terrible secretary. Good in bed though," he added as an afterthought.
Milah grimaced in disgust. Gold really did take pleasure in seeing Milah squirm. After Belle, this was the highlight of his day.
"You agreed to all the terms, didn't you? You're not going to spring a lawsuit on me, are you?" Milah asked.
Gold rolled his eyes. "Yes, I agreed to all the terms. No, I'm not going to trick you. I just want to be done with this marriage. You'll get your fair amount of money, and we can move on."
Milah nodded, satisfied.
Gold wanted to scoff at the fact that she hadn't trusted him, but really, he didn't blame her. He had a reputation of tricking people, but he really just wanted to be done with Milah.
And for once, he wasn't lying.
David entered the lobby of Gold Enterprises. Belle had reported that Gold wouldn't be in for a while, since he was meeting a client. It was the perfect chance to dig up any information, even though it was risky just walking into Gold's company. David guessed that Captain Mills was getting desperate.
He casually glanced around, noticing the high vaulted ceilings, the marble floors, and deep mahogany wood that surrounded the walls. He stepped up the front desk, where a short black-haired woman was typing away on a computer. When she glanced up, David couldn't help but admire how pretty she was.
"Can I help you?"
"Actually, yes," David said, an idea forming in his mind. Captain Mills would either love the idea or hate it. "I would like to set up an appointment with Mason Gold."
The young woman raised her eyebrows. "All right. He's busy today, and the rest of the week, but I can schedule you in for the following Monday, at ten o'clock. Does that work?"
David silently cursed. He had hoped for a sooner opening, but he figured that Gold seemed like the type of man a person waited years to see. He had to take what he could get. "Yes, that will work. Thank you."
"Do you mind telling me what the appointment is for?" The woman smiled when David quirked an eyebrow. "I'm guessing this is your first time in to see Mr. Gold."
David chuckled, sheepish. "Yeah. It is."
The woman pointed at her computer screen. "I need to know so I can plan out his following appointment. Time management and all. Are you looking for legal help?"
David thought for a moment. "Miss," he squinted at her name tag, "Blanchard. I'm... looking for help with getting money. I'm looking for a loan."
Miss Blanchard didn't show any visible change on her face expect for the twitching of her lips. Her smile slipped a little. "Well, Mr. Gold does hand out loans, but you would need to sign some paperwork before setting up a meeting with him."
"Why can't I just meet with him?" David asked, curiously. Clearly, Miss Blanchard was hiding something.
She started to fidget, wringing her hands. "Have you met Mr. Gold before?" she hesitantly asked.
David didn't hesitate. "Yes, actually. I have."
She frowned. "But I thought you said that this was your first time in to see him?"
David nodded, quickly thinking on his feet. "This is. It's my first time meeting him at his office. We've met for social drinks before, in the past."
Miss Blanchard relaxed slightly. "Oh. I see. Well, then I'll let him know about your upcoming appointment. What's your name? I'll have to see some ID."
Thankfully for David, he had his fake James ID on hand. He gave it over, not letting on once that he was completely lying. Just showing up at Gold's company was risky, but going in to meet him, was much worse. Whether Gold knew he was a cop or not didn't matter though. David would try to get any information out of the man as best he could.
It wasn't that he doubted Belle's abilities...but well, he doubted Belle's abilities. She was just starting out as a detective, and probably wouldn't know how to deal with a man like Gold, though going on a date with him was ballsy of her. David, after having spent time with Jefferson, felt like he wasn't getting anywhere with the Mad Hatter. David wanted to take matters into his own hands. He figured Captain Mills wouldn't object. He was hoping she would congratulate him on taking initiative.
And if she didn't...well he could just cancel the meeting, and no one would be the wiser.
Belle, realizing that her cover could have easily been blown, decided to head over to her papa's flower shop. She had to keep up the appearance that she worked there.
"Belle!" Her father exclaimed when she walked through the doors. He was behind the front counter today, sorting through some receipts.
"Hi, Papa," she said, walking around the counter to give him a hug.
"Working here today, are you?" He winked.
Belle laughed. "Yeah, well, I have to keep up appearances." Her papa knew that she was working on an assignment, he just didn't know what exactly. He thankfully didn't ask her many questions.
Something on the counter caught her eye. Belle reached over and grabbed a stack of fliers for the shop. "You're advertising now?" Hope filled her features.
Moe nodded, proud. "Yep. In the newspaper and everything."
Belle shook her head, a smile still in place. "Papa, how could you afford this?" She shook the fliers in her hand. "You've never had the money before."
Moe sighed, the pride leaving his face. "You're right. Belle...I took out a loan. For five thousand dollars."
Belle eyes widened. To someone else, five thousand dollars might not have been much, but to the Frenches, it was a lot of money. Belle had lived a comfortable life, growing up, but her family hadn't just been dependent on her papa. Her mother's income helped, working as a manager at a shoe store. Belle had never been accustomed to the life of luxury, but she was never bitter about it. After her mother's death, things had been shaky, but with her own salary, she and her papa got by. She just wasn't comfortable with the thought of owing someone else money. Even through college, she had scholarships to help.
Belle knew her father had been thinking of asking for money, but Belle hadn't realized he had actually gone through with it. "Papa, that's a lot of money!"
Moe grimaced, nodding in agreement. "I know, Belle, but, with the extra advertising, more people will be coming into the shop, which in turn will mean I'll be making more money." He wrapped a hand around Belle's shoulders and kissed her forehead. "We will have more money."
Belle sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I know. I just don't like you owing money to the bank. I hope they treat you all right."
Moe froze at Belle's words, so much so, that Belle lifted her head from where she leaned it against his shoulder, and looked at him quizzically. "Papa?"
Moe blinked, becoming animated again. He gave a shaky laugh. "Yeah. The bank. As long as I pay the loan back, everything will be fine." It almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Belle.
In truth, that was exactly what Moe was doing. He was terrified of Gold, and didn't want his daughter to ever have to meet the ruthless shark. It was for the best that Moe lied to her, despite feeling guilty. He didn't want her getting caught up in his troublesome business. And it wouldn't look that good if his detective of a daughter found out that he went through 'unconventional' means for the loan.
Belle squeezed her father's arm, giving him strength. "You can do it, Papa. How much time do you have?"
"Five months. A thousand dollars a month."
Belle nodded, biting her lip. "That can work." She looked steadily at her father. "That's not impossible."
"I know," Moe said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Just then the chime of the bell over the door rang out, and a woman with her son came into the shop. "A customer!" Belle said, excitedly.
After the woman bought a basket of lilies, Belle smiled and hugged her father again. "Forty dollars down," Belle said, trying to give hope to her papa. He had looked so dejected before. Seeing a customer in the shop clearly was the morale he needed.
"You're right." Moe looked down at the receipt. "Forty dollars down. Just a couple thousand more to go."
After his court hearing, where everything had gone smoothly, thankfully, Gold returned to his company to get in a few more hours of work. He nodded at Miss Blanchard when he walked past, who quickly called after him before he could enter his office.
"Mr. Gold?" Miss Blanchard asked, timidly. Gold always thought Miss Blanchard too timid, but at least she wasn't coming onto him like Cora had. Despite sleeping with Cora, he always found her annoying. Miss Blanchard, for all her faults, had one thing he liked: her voice didn't grate on his ears.
"Yes, Miss Blanchard?" He paused, his hand hovering over the door handle of his office.
"Some man stopped by today to set up an appointment with you."
Gold sighed. "That's nothing new. Why tell me now? I would have seen it in my schedule."
Miss Blanchard fiddled with her hands, biting her lip. "Well, the thing is, Mr. Gold... there was something suspicious about him. He was looking for a loan, which I thought strange. People only come to you for loans if they're desperate, and he didn't look that desperate."
Gold frowned, turning towards his secretary. "A little strange," he murmured, "but nothing to be worried about, I'm sure. I can take care of myself, Miss Blanchard."
She blushed, nodding. "I know...but he claimed to know you. I wasn't sure if that was true or not."
This time, Gold's frowned deepened in thought. "What's this man's name?"
"James Nelson."
"I've never heard of this man," Gold responded instantly. If there was anything Gold knew better in this world, it was names. Then he paused. "Wait. James Nelson?" Gold was starting to think that some people really needed to pick more original surnames. First 'Anthony,' now 'James.' Not that Gold had any proof that this 'James Nelson' was a fraud, but, well...Gold figured he was. If his timid secretary was onto to him, then Gold had reason to be suspicious.
"Do you want me to call him back?" Miss Blanchard was already reaching for the phone.
Gold waved a hand. "No. If 'James Nelson' needs to speak with me, then let him. I'm not worried. I'm a 'big boy,' Miss Blanchard. I can handle the situation."
Miss Blanchard nodded, still looking concerned though. It probably wasn't any love for him, but more for the fear of getting in trouble. But Miss Blanchard didn't have to be concerned about losing her job for letting some man he had never met before in to see him. Gold welcomed strangers. Learning their secrets was the best part of life.
Though there was one man Gold wished was a stranger and not standing in his office at that moment.
Albert Spencer.
Rival prosecuting attorney, and more importantly, rival in the organized crime world as well.
Gold hated him.
Spencer was standing tall before a window, hands clasped behind his back. His bald head was shining under the overhead lights, making his pale skin appear to glow. That was one thing Gold could be smug about: he at least had hair.
Gold casually walked into his office, his cane tapping the ground. He didn't want Spencer to see how tense he had become.
The older man turned around, a smirk already prominent on his face. "Gold," he said cheerfully, extending a hand.
Gold resisted the urge to sneer at the outstretched hand, but he had formalities to keep up. He sighed, and shook Spencer's hand. "Spencer. What are you doing here? And how did you get inside my office?" He felt proud of himself for not sneering. Though, just barely.
Spencer chuckled, rubbing his chin. "Your young secretary let me in. She was pretty easy to persuade."
Gold's jaw clenched. "Miss Blanchard can be naive sometimes. What did you do? Threaten her family? Take away her precious cat?"
"Of course not!" Spencer moved around Gold's office, not asking for permission when picking up a fragile glass bowl. Gold started to snap at Spencer, then bit his tongue. He didn't want to be baited. It was usually him who did the baiting.
After he set down the bowl, Spencer resumed speaking. "I just told her that you were expecting me. And when she looked at me skeptically, I convinced her that you and I are friends."
"Yes, it seems a lot of people have been doing that lately," Gold muttered to himself. He straightened the lapels of his suit, and sat down in his chair. Normally he liked to stand when speaking with Spencer, gave him a sense of power, but his ankle was aching. Having to put up with his wife today had not left him in the best mood. "Your presence must have intimated her. Otherwise, Miss Blanchard probably would not have let you in."
"Well, good thing Miss Blanchard is naive then," Spencer winked, causing Gold to sigh even more heavily.
"What do you want, Spencer?" Gold leaned forward in his seat, preparing to go through some documents.
"I wanted you to know, to not bother with the Colombia exchange. I already have men who are getting the shipment." Spencer flicked a piece of dust off his finger after having touched a cabinet, grimacing. Gold knew perfectly well that his office was clean. Spencer was just being a jackass.
"I thought I made it clear to you, that I was in charge of that exchange."
Spencer snorted. "You had your little lackey Hook, be in charge of it. Just like last time, and we both know he didn't deliver."
Gold ran a hand over his face. "He was much younger then. He's older now. Wiser."
"I wouldn't call it wise," Spencer muttered.
Gold dropped his pen down on his desk, leaning back in his seat. "You went behind my back, did you not just tell me?"
Spencer spread his hands in an innocent gesture. "Well, I don't work for you. I've worked with you, and it didn't end well. So now, coming here was more of a common courtesy than anything else. Mostly I just wanted to see your face when you found you wouldn't be getting any of the money this drug shipment is bringing in." He leaned over Gold's desk, scrutinizing the younger man's face. Apparently Spencer saw what he wanted, and nodded in satisfaction. "Yes. You're trying to hide your anger, but clearly you're not pleased with this turn of events."
Gold tried to loosen the tight muscles on his face, but failed. "If you are saying that I'm not pleased with the fact that you stole my deal and my money, then yes. I'm not pleased."
Spencer smiled, smugness plastered all over his face. "And that makes me very pleased."
Gold was trying hard not to contemplate hitting Spencer across the face with his cane. It was a tempting thought. "Get out of my office," he said, softly.
Spencer nodded, as if he had all the answers in the world. "Of course. I'll leave you to your quaint, little office. I'll be in my much larger one, with my newly funded riches." With that, Spencer turned on his heel, and left the room.
Gold waited ten seconds to catch his breath, then picked up his cane and smashed it into the glass bowl Spencer had touched. It was only imported from Italy. He could get another one.
Miss Blanchard, knowing enough not to enter his office, called on his speaker. "Is everything all right, Mr. Gold?" The poor girl sounded terrified.
Gold collected his breath, straightened his suit, and pushed down on his speaker to reply. "Everything's fine, Miss Blanchard. No need to worry."
"That's what you said earlier, Sir."
"I know." He had meant it then, but now, dealing with Spencer, Gold definitely had cause for concern, and Gold wasn't the type of man to worry.
He really hated Albert Spencer.
Belle, the following day, worked for a few hours at the station, then headed to work for her papa. After she was settled in at the flower shop in the back, working on inventory, she felt a peace of mind. She and her dad could work through this financial bump. They just needed patience, and it was a good thing that Belle had plenty.
As Belle was working in the back, Moe was out front, working the cash register. With Belle here, he had sent one of his other employees home for the day. Moe was loving working with his little girl. She used to help out all the time at the shop when she was younger, so it was nice to see her back where he always felt she belonged.
Just as Moe finished helping a customer, the bell over the door chimed. Normally Moe put on a huge smile to greet the incoming customer, but when he heard a familiar tapping of a cane, his blood froze. Moe hesitantly glanced up, and saw Mr. Gold standing in the doorway. The wealthy man was glancing around the shop, a wistful smile teasing his lips.
When Gold finally took notice of Moe, he nodded, and said, "Good to see you, Mr. 'Nelson.'" It seemed to Moe that Gold was trying not to laugh upon saying his name.
"C–can I help you?" Moe asked, stuttering over his words. He knew his first payment wasn't due for another week. He could not understand why Gold would be here. Hopefully the man hadn't come to kill him. With his daughter here, that would just be cruel.
Gold tilted his head, his brow lowering in thought. "I guess I was just in the mood for some floral arrangements, and thought I would stop by to say hello to my favorite flower shop owner."
Moe gulped, trying to pretend he was at ease, when he really just wanted to flee from the room... or do something completely unsanitary within his pants.
Just then, Moe's worst nightmare came true. Belle came out of the back room, carrying a piece of paper. She looked up and stumbled over her heels. Moe never liked the idea of his daughter wearing such high shoes, saying that one day she would fall and break an ankle.
But it wasn't her shoes that caused Belle to stumble. It was the man, standing in the middle of the little flower shop, who caused Belle to trip. She hesitantly stepped closer to her dad, wondering what in the world she was going to do.
Her papa didn't know about her date with Mason, and she wasn't about to tell him now. She knew he would have some qualms about her dating a man quite a bit older than her. She also knew he would have qualms about her dating, period. She was just hoping Mason wouldn't say anything.
"Hello," Gold nodded at Belle.
"Hi," Belle said softly, fiddling with the piece of paper in her hands. "Do you need help?"
Gold's lips quirked. "Actually, your father was helping me."
Moe frowned, and whipped his head in Belle's direction. "Do you know this man?"
Belle looked at Mason, wondering what to say. She finally decided on the safest answer. "No." Moe looked relived. Gold looked curious.
"I just assumed you were related. You look so much alike." Gold shifted his stance to rest his weight on his good ankle, his eyes gleaming with knowledge of hidden secrets.
"Are you looking for anything in particular, Sir?" Moe asked, trying to take Gold's attention off Belle. Moe was just hoping Belle wouldn't ask if he knew this man, like he did her. Moe didn't know how he would respond.
"Well, I've just begun seeing someone," Gold's eyes flicked to Belle, but it was so quick that Moe didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, "and wanted to get her something nice." He flicked his gaze around the shop. "Flowers seemed appropriate."
Gold then sighed, resting his hands on his cane with more emphasis. "But sadly I don't know which ones are her favorite." He was trying not to smirk as he glanced at Belle. Maybe it was mean of him to tease her and her father, but he couldn't help himself. After the day he had yesterday with Milah and Spencer, he needed a little fun. Clearly neither Belle nor her father wanted to admit to the other that they both knew him, in ways neither one wanted coming out. That was all right with Gold. He loved secrets.
Belle blushed when she noticed Mason glancing at her. Her papa started to answer, when Belle cut in. "Roses."
Moe looked ridiculous with his mouth flapping open, not having been expecting his daughter to cut him off.
Gold raised an eyebrow. "Roses?" This time his smirk came through loud and clear.
Belle nodded, trying not to look guilty in front of her father. "Yeah. Roses are a good choice. They're classy and elegant. Most woman love them."
Gold strolled up to the counter, fingering the cheap postcards on display on the counter. "That's a wonderful choice, but which color?"
Belle bit her lip. "Well, it depends on how long you've known her. Each color can mean something different."
Gold stopped messing with the postcards, and turned his full gaze on Moe's only daughter. "Which one would you choose?"
"Um," Belle felt herself flush under his gaze, yet conscious of her papa standing next to her. Moe, while quite oblivious, did not like the way Gold was staring at his daughter. Did not like it one bit. The other man looked at Belle as if he wanted to consume her within his gaze. Yeah...Moe definitely did not like it.
"Yellow," Belle finally said. When Gold raised an eyebrow, Belle elaborated. "Yellow can stand for a new beginning. The start of a relationship. You did recently say that you just started seeing this woman?"
Gold nodded, releasing Belle from his gaze. "I did, but I'm not exactly the yellow roses type of man."
"What type of rose color man are you then?" Belle teased, while Moe shifted uncomfortably.
"Red," Gold said simply. In that one word, there was so much passion within his eyes, that Belle felt like drowning. Of course, she was scolding herself for getting carried away, especially in front of her papa.
Belle cleared her throat. "That might be, but the roses are for her, and not for you."
He smirked. "Touché." He straightened up from where he had been leaning on his cane. "Yellow roses it is then."
He bought an arrangement of them, paying the fifty dollars. When Moe was ringing up the receipt, Gold winked at Belle, causing her to giggle. After he left the store, flowers in hand, Belle quickly grabbed a pen that was lying on the counter.
She turned to Moe, coming up with an excuse that the pen belonged to the man who had just bought flowers.
"I can take it to him, Belle," Moe said, firmly. He didn't want Belle alone with Gold.
But Belle was quick on her feet and sidestepped her father's outstretched hand that was reaching for the pen. "I saw it, Papa. And I'm already holding it. So, I'll just go give it to him." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder, walking faster than she ever had in her high heels.
Moe just looked flabbergasted at Belle's speedy retreat, and terrible excuse.
But Belle didn't care. She didn't know if she could catch Mason before he left, but when she stepped outside, she saw him standing a little ways away from the shop, leaning against his parked car on the sidewalk.
She laughed outright when she saw the yellow roses in his hand. He stepped forward, handing her the roses.
Belle lifted them to her nose and inhaled. "You know, I don't think buying me flowers count when you buy them from the shop where I work."
He shrugged, a soft smile passing over his lips. "It's the thought that counts."
Belle pursed her lips. "Yes, the thought. You startled me, back in there." She pointed at the shop. She and Mason were far enough down the street that Belle wasn't worried about her father seeing her.
"Was there a reason you lied about not knowing me?"
Belle blushed, turning sheepish. "I haven't told my papa about us dating yet, and he can be very overprotective when it comes to me, well, dating."
"Is that what we are?" Belle quirked an eyebrow at Mason's words. "Dating," he elaborated.
"Oh." Belle hadn't realized she implied anything of the sort. Yet if they were going on another date this Friday...she figured that would imply that they were, indeed, 'dating.'
"Yes, we are," she said, after some thought. Though she was aware that once the words were out, they didn't feel wrong. They felt right.
Gold smiled, pleased over her words.
"I can't keep the flowers," Belle said, handing them back. "My papa thinks I'm out here returning a pen to you. I don't know what he'll think if I return with a bouquet full of roses."
Gold laughed, accepting the roses back. "He'll probably take the payment of the returned pen in the wrong way."
Belle laughed as well, shaking her head. "Yeah. He'll probably take you for a pimp."
"Or something like that," Gold murmured softly. Obviously he wasn't a pimp, but conducting the business he was a part of, just reminded him of who he really was. He didn't quite know what he was doing with Miss French, but if felt nice and peaceful. And he needed that right now. She brought a sense of eagerness back into his life that he hadn't felt in a while.
Then he would remember how Belle wasn't a part of his other world, and would never be. She couldn't be, but that still didn't mean he didn't want to date her. He really did.
He would just have to break things off before they became too serious. Thankfully for him, they were just at the beginning of their relationship. He wouldn't have to think about their future for a while.
He held up the yellow roses, and studied them after Belle left, the 'returned' pen in his pocket. Yellow roses: the start of a relationship. Just the start, just the start, he repeated in his mind like a mantra. And for a while, it worked.
Oh, Gold. He is delusional. Poor man.
Upcoming: Another date happens, David continues to not be that smart (he's as terrible as Belle is at improvisation), and secrets become harder to keep.