Elsa tightened her grip on her wine glass. Her eyes narrowed as she struggled to maintain her composure. Business functions were never her idea of fun, yet this particular event was proving to be even more tedious.
Her eyes glanced over at Jack who sat lazily draped in a chair. Besides him were two blondes in dresses far too skimpy for an event as classy as this one. The sound of their raucous laughter filled the room, earning them disapproving looks from the older crowd and a harsh glare from Elsa. She watched as Jack glanced up, meeting her gaze before rolling his eyes and checking his watch. She knew that he was bored and was doing his best to deter the girls attention without appearing rude. Still, it didn't make it easier to watch the two girls blatantly attempting to flirt with her boyfriend. Especially not when she was under the watchful eye of her father, who was keen to ensure that she presented herself as the dutiful daughter to Arendelle's business elite.
"You are not pretending that the wine glass is those bimbo's necks now are you?" Anna teased, coming to stand beside her.
Shaking her head, she turned to face her sister. "I swear, I am this close to marching over there and accidentally on purpose spilling my wine on them. I just don't want to waste a perfectly good drop of wine on those...those...girls," she muttered.
"Relax, El. Heck, I've only known about your relationship for three weeks and I can already tell you that he's bored out of his brain and wishing he could be with you," Anna pointed out. "However, if you do wish to see those girls covered in drink then allow me the honour. Not only am I stuck drinking boring cola, but I'm also known for being clumsier than you are."
Giggling, she turned to raise her eyebrow at Anna. "You would do that, for me?"
Grinning, Anna looked at her. "Are you kidding? I've always wanted to tip a drink over someone. Besides, we can't have the future CEO of Kingdom Ice Creamery spilling her drink over the air-headed heiresses to an over-priced hotel chain. Trust me, El, I've waited my whole life to do something like this."
The sound of a text message came through, interrupting the two girls from their giggling. Digging in her small clutch, she pulled out her phone. She felt her face breaking into a smile when she noticed the message from Jack. Looking up, she turned her head to catch his gaze and nodded.
"Let me guess, that was him?" Anna quipped, draping her arm around Elsa's shoulder.
"It was," she said, a sly smile forming on her face. "Can you please keep Dad off my back? I need to go to the bathroom."
"I'll do my best," Anna vowed, raising her arm in a mock salute. "Just don't take too long in the 'bathroom,' you don't want Dad to get suspicious."
She nodded. Her eyes scanned the crowded hotel ballroom until she found her parents. Slowly, she made her way to join them. She waited patiently for the conversation to come to a halt before pulling her mother aside and letting her know where she was headed.
Jack grinned. He watched as Elsa let herself out of the large ballroom doors. Her eyes scanned the large hotel hallway as she looked for him. Stepping away from the pillar where he had been hiding, he let out a low whistle and watched as she turned on her heels to smile widely at him.
With three large strides, he crossed the divide. He scanned the hallway to ensure that no prying eyes were around before taking Elsa's hand. Without saying a word, he tugged her along until they had reached the corridor that led to the hotel's laundry room.
He glanced around their surrounding area and let out a sigh of relief upon realising that they were alone. He had sussed the area out beforehand, it was located in a part of the hotel that was rarely frequented by guests. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to her lips.
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to be in a room with you looking as beautiful as you are and not be able to talk to you? Or hold you?" he whispered, wrapping his arms around her.
"Are you telling me that you were not enjoying a scintillating conversation with the hotel heiresses?" Elsa teased as she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I couldn't help but notice that they seemed fascinated with you."
Smirking, he shifted his head to press a kiss to her neck. "Miss Blanchard, do I detect a hint of sarcasm in your tone? Is it possible that you might be a teensy bit jealous?" he joked.
"Not at all," she protested, bowing her head. "I see no reason to be jealous. It's not like they get to sit with you and talk to you while I am forced to pretend that I don't want to...want to…"
Slowly, he moved his hand to cup her face. He gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. "El, those girls are airheads. They are also drunk. Hell, in the past hour I think I mentioned the words 'my girlfriend' at least forty-five times. I'm hoping that by the time we return they will have moved on to bore someone else," he chuckled. "I love you and it's annoying me that you are so close and I can't hold you."
He heard Elsa let out a small sigh before she shifted her head to kiss his hand. "You know, I've got Anna on stand-by. She was determined to accidentally spill her soft drink on them. She was just waiting for my word," she giggled.
"I wish she would have. I could have used the laugh," he murmured, bending his head down to steal a kiss.
He felt Elsa relax in his arms as she pressed her body against his. Her hand reached to cup the back of his head as she deepened the kiss. He moved his hand to stroke through her hair, taking a few strands and twirling it around his finger.
Breaking apart, he rested his forehead against hers before letting out a loud sigh. "We have to go," he whispered. "We can't be out too long. Especially if you gave the 'going to the bathroom' excuse. I mean, I know the rumour is that the line for the girls restroom is longer than for the mens room, but still."
Elsa nodded. "I'll go in first," she said.
Leaning in, she pressed one last kiss to his lips before stepping from his grasp. He watched as she turned to head towards the ballroom, stopping at the door to cast one last glance his way before stepping inside.
Taking a deep breath, Hans knocked on the door. He could hear the sound of his uncle's Great Dane, Nox, barking could be heard immediately. A few seconds later the sound of his uncle's voice sounded as he commanded the dog to be silent.
Slowly, the door opened. "You're late," scolded his uncle, the disdain evident in his voice. "I do hope that you have come with good news to make up for your tardiness."
"I do have some news," Hans stammered, stepping inside the darkened home. "In fact, I think it could be quite useful."
"It better be. I've worked far too hard for all my plans to come undone due to the incompetence of others," sneered the older man, taking a seat in the ornate leather chair. "Be a good nephew and go pour me a whisky."
Hans nodded and headed into the kitchen. He made his way to the cupboard where his uncle kept his whisky. Slowly, he removed the bottle before grabbing a glass from an adjacent cupboard. Grabbing a few ice cubes, he dropped them in the glass and poured the liquid in.
He took a moment to stare at his reflection in the window. His eyes flickered to his coiffed auburn hair and he scowled. He'd always hated his hair, he was the only one in his family with red hair. The rest of his family had dark brown hair. Growing up, it had brought his older brothers a sense of joy to torment him about his thick red locks. It set him apart, made him different and isolated him from his siblings.
It had been his loneliness and a degree of anger that had helped him form an unlikely bond with his estranged Uncle Edward. The older man had been largely ignored by his family following claims that he was responsible for losing a large percentage of the family's wealth in gambling debts. Edward had reached out to Hans at the start of the latest school year after discovering that Hans was a student at his alma mater, Arendelle University.
At first their conversations had focused solely on education and family gossip. Edward had seemed quite unimpressed with Hans' older brothers, claiming them to be nothing more than sheep who followed the safe route imposed by their family and studied respectable subjects, dated the right sorts of women and lived responsible lives. Hans, he had decided, was different, a 'better' man. Hans, he had said, was someone who viewed their family with the same malcontent as he did.
It was his faith in Hans that had seen him seek the younger man out to help him carry out an important task, one that he had been working on for a long time.
Edward Black watched as his youngest nephew eagerly placed the glass of whisky down beside him. He had been right to choose the boy for his plans. The youngest of his sister's sons had an arrogance and a sense of entitlement about him that made him incredibly biddable. He had thrown a few compliments in the boy's direction, joined him in mocking his simpleton older brothers and the boy had become his willing lapdog.
He had never held much interest in his family. They had, after all, virtually cut him off after a few wrongly placed bets in his early twenties and had left him to work a simplistic bank teller job like a commoner. He had always been the outcast in his family, the 'black' sheep of the Black family. He had never forgotten the day when his father had cut him from the family wealth after declaring him to be too unpredictable with finances to be trusted with his hard-earned wealth. He had been 27 at the time and it had been the last straw for him.
His father had a history of making his disdain known. All through Edward's high school and university days he had been forced to listen to the cruel jibes of his father, who had seen fit to compare his son to his peers. In particular Nicholas North and Walter Blanchard, the sons of men who worked on the production line at a factory owned by Edward Black Sr.
"I don't understand, Edward. You come from a good, wealthy family and yet you have no drive, no passion. You really think that being the star pitcher for a suburban baseball team is enough to bring you glory?" the older man had asked. "These two boys, Nicholas and Walter, they come from nothing. Their families are migrants who work for pittance in my factory and yet those boys have drive and determination to succeed."
His passion had always been baseball. He had been known as 'Pitch' on the field for his talent as a pitcher. The speed and accuracy at which he had been able to deliver a ball had been known to bring fear to the opposing team. Many had thought him capable of playing for the major leagues, but it wasn't to be. His father had been quick to shoot him down. He had claimed that sports brought short term glory, but a good career with wealth and high social standing could last forever.
As Edward Jr. had continued to grow, so had his father's scrutiny. He had claimed it hurt him to see the two migrant boys do so well while his only son floundered. Not only had the two boys been inseparable, but they had also managed to combine good grades, success on the sporting field, healthy relationships with their peers as well as juggling part time work in a small supermarket. In short, they had been the ultimate 'all-rounders' and it had been evident to Edward Jr. that his father had felt them to be more worthy of pride then his own son.
The scorn had only got worse once the three men had graduated university. Walt and Nicholas had used the money they had saved while working to put towards opening their first business. Together with their friend, David, they had bought a small ice cream parlour in a suburban mall. The business had seemingly flourished. Customers had been captivated by the friendly service provided by the jovial Nick and the quiet, but caring Walt. Edward Sr. had been so impressed and had wasted no time telling his friends that the bright new men of the Arendelle business scene were the sons of his employees.
While Nicholas and Walt's post- uni life had continued to soar, Edward Jr's had sunk to a new low. He had found it difficult to find work outside of school. His talents on the baseball field had failed to earn him a spot in the big leagues, especially when there had been those willing to accept positions for far less pay than he had demanded. In order to make money, he had turned to gambling. Initially, he had enjoyed success. The money he had earned enabled him to purchase a flash car. However, his luck had soon run out, which had left him in debt. In order to keep the loan sharks off his back, he had been forced to squander the family's wealth.
Edward Sr. had been furious. When he had found out, he had cut off his son's bank account and had forced him to move from the family home. His last act of 'kindness' had been to set his son up with a job working as a bank teller in a small outer suburb mall.
To make matters worse, the bank had been located in the same mall where Walt Blanchard, Nicholas North and their friend, David, had opened their business. The simple minded colleagues that Edward had been forced to work with had all raved about the ice cream store. They would come back from their lunch breaks with treats they had purchased and would share stories and jokes that they had shared with the three young businessmen.
However, luck had been on his side. Nicholas North had been left responsible for handling the payment of bills at Edward's own workplace. Nick had come in on a weekly basis, beaming with the arrogance that one only found in the newly rich and successful.
"Ah, Pitch," he'd exclaimed, stepping towards the teller. "Why don't we see you visiting us in the store? It is doing so well. We would love to see you."
Edward had groaned. The use of his old nickname had only served to remind him of his failed dreams. Sadly, his colleagues had overheard and had started to use the name.
He didn't know what had made him do it. Some would have called it jealousy, others would have called it the desperate actions of a gambling addict. All Edward had known was that the minimum wage he had been earning was not enough to keep the debts from piling up. He had already sold his luxury car and had been left to rent a small apartment. His world had begun to fall apart while the lives of Walter Blanchard and Nicholas North had continued to flourish both privately and in business.
It had all been too easy. Nicholas had come in with the money for rent and bills in a plain envelope. Once in the bank, he had handed the money to Edward who had counted it, typed in the amount and lodged it. He had then distracted the unassuming man with questions about his life while he slid $10 from the pile of bills into his pocket, skillfully managing to avoid detection from the security cameras. He had then smiled when he had provided a receipt to Nicholas and had made a feeble promise to visit the store.
In time, the stolen money had added up and he had managed a few more wins down at the casino which had allowed him to pay off the last of his debts. Slowly, he had managed to pull himself out of financial despair. At the same time, he had heard that his former classmates business had started to fall apart. Debt collectors had hit them in order to recover the unpaid rent and bill money. The profits they had made were no longer able to sustain the running of the store as well as make up for the missing money.
Tensions had flared among the trio. Walt had been sure that the fault lay with Nicholas, who had recently purchased his first home with money he had saved. Nicholas had been adamant that he had paid in full with nothing untoward happening. The receipts he had from the bank had all supported his claims, yet the money had never reached the payees. As a result, the business had gone bankrupt and the boys friendship had deteriorated. Walt and Nick had gone from best friends to sworn enemies and David had fled the state in search of a new life.
Edward still remembered the day the two men had unwillingly confided in him, both full of remorse and angst. Walt had been filled with a new-found mistrust and anger that his best friend had betrayed him. Nicholas, on the other hand, had been hurt and confused. He had known himself to be innocent, but the paperwork had stacked up against him and it had been only himself and his wife, Clara, who had believed him.
"Uncle," Hans called, looking with concern at the older man who sat with a faraway look on his face. "Is everything okay?"
Blinking, his uncle turned to face him. "Couldn't be better, my dear nephew. I was just reminiscing over the good ol' days," he smirked.
Hans nodded. Nervously, he took a swig of his drink. He had been working with his uncle for a year now, yet he still felt the tiniest bit of unease around the older man. However, he had learned to ignore it. After all, it was nice to associate with another family member who saw through the 'perfect' facade of his obnoxious brothers.
"So, you say you have good news, Hans. I can only hope that it has to do with the Blanchard daughters," his uncle stated in a monotonous tone. "Any luck in messing with the eldest one? Especially after you failed so dramatically with the younger girl."
"I do have some news," he smirked."You are aware that Anna, the youngest, ignored my obvious charms and has since begun dating some lower class loser-"
"I am more than aware that you failed in your attempt to woo a naive, sheltered 18-year-old girl, yes," snapped Edward, chortling to himself.
He shot a glare at his uncle. The memory of Anna's refusal of him, coupled with the speed at which she moved on with the loner, Kristoff, was still fresh in his mind. Fortunately, his associates had all believed him when he had lied about bedding the girl, but the fact that she had moved on so fast with someone so far beneath his status had still been a blow to his ego. Shuddering, he pushed the thought from his mind.
"Yes, well it is not Anna who is the fascinating one here, Uncle," he began. " I have reason to believe that the oldest girl, Elsa, the one who is on the fast track to becoming CEO of Kingdom Ice Creamery, is involved in a secret relationship with non other than Jack Frost."
Leaning back, he watched as his uncle took in the news. His dark eyes continued to stare blankly at him. " Just why do you think I care for some young girl's relationship?" he sneered, swallowing the last of his whisky.
"Because, my dear uncle," he replied, pausing briefly for dramatic effect. "Jack Frost, is the nephew who has been raised by his uncle, Nicholas North."
His uncle sat up, his lips curled into a sly smile. "Well now, that is interesting," he drawled, stroking at his chin. "I bet that Daddy would not be too pleased to know that his precious little princess is sleeping with the enemy."
He shook his head. "Not at all. You remember how I told you Jack was the one who beat me up after Anna refused to sleep with me?" he began. "It was because of my 'threat' to poor little Elsa. He didn't like the way I spoke to her. Rumour has it that he held a long-term crush on her and she has finally decided to return his affections."
His uncle nodded, slowly extending a hand to stroke at his dog, Nox. "Boy, you may just prove useful after all," he smirked. "I think we have found the missing puzzle piece that we need to finally bring down Walt Blanchard and Nicholas North, once and for all."
A/N- Aha...so there you have it. I've held onto this little plot bunny for a few weeks. I know a few of you were convinced David had something to do with the business downfall. Sorry to say- nope, he was an innocent party.
As always, thanks for the kind reviews, and support. Slowly this story will wind down, although I already have a second chaptered Jelsa story to tell so shall slowly begin to plan that out and get that started in the coming weeks
Keep calm and ship Jelsa.