After putting in so much time and energy finding the little brute's sofa and carrying it all the way up to her penthouse, the Good Boy was finally able to relax now that he was finally able to stand back and admire the new piece of furniture in its new home. Charlie thought the sofa fit well with the rest of the living room, but, more importantly, now that he had come through with this promise, Veruca would surely recognize his commitment to forming a deeper relationship, right? While Charlie was busy bringing the sofa in and making it look presentable, Veruca was occupied, serving herself a glass of rum after she suffered such traumatic experiences earlier that afternoon, like Coûteux not having the sofa she wanted and her having to travel south of the River Thames for the one she wanted. But now that her new sofa was ready to be used, she rested the bottle of rum on the coffee table in front of her, kicked off her shoes and lied down on the sofa with her feet tucked underneath her. The Good Boy waited desperately for a gracious response from the little brute, but she did not thank Charlie for all he had done for her, instead she leaned forward to refill her glass with more rum and then reclined to relax.

Armed with another glass of rum in hand, Veruca returned to her perfect little world, that was until she spotted Charlie standing off to the side, smiling and waiting for her to interact with him, to which she nastily responded, "What are you still doing here? You don't think you're staying, are you?"

He almost could not believe what he was hearing, almost could not believe it. All Charlie could do in such a terrible situation was save face, smile, and solemnly reply, "Well, I think it's best that I leave now, I'm not exactly in the right condition to sit on nice fabric."

Veruca made that same disgusted facial expression she made on board the elevator as Charlie pointed out his sweaty clothes, yet Charlie pressed forward with his mission to reconnect with his fellow Golden Ticket winner, saying, "But, listen, Veruca, I know that you're...very busy, but I'd like to maybe do today over. No shopping, no wandering around, no work for me, hehe."

The little brute was still not amused at Charlie's attempts at humor and he sensed it. That extra stress only added to the existing anxiety Charlie dealt with when he talked to women, and it all manifested itself through hand wringing and trouble speaking, as he struggled explaining, "So, what if we were to, you know, maybe get dinner sometime soon? It'll just be the two of us and all we'll do is chat and relax. Doesn't that sound swell?"

Now, instead of focusing on the nervous Charlie, Veruca finished drinking the last of the rum in her glass and in order to show her displeasure with having to fill it up again, she let out a deep, "Ugh!"

While Veruca was clearly in her own little world at the moment and her groan was clearly directed at her having to refill her own drink, Charlie also knew that such a primal grunt was also directed towards him for trying to disrupt her space. He spent all day trying to get her to notice and interact with him, but she only seemed to do so when she was pointing something out to him, and the other times she was straight up ignoring him. Charlie did not want to give up but he did not know what else he could do to win her attention, he literally carried furniture up to her penthouse for her and she could not even utter a simple thank you in return. Although he should have expected such behavior, it was not like it was in Veruca's nature to be grateful, yet Charlie could nt wonder but feel depressed that he had failed at his mission to reconnect with another Golden Ticket winner. It looked as if he would not have any kind of relationship with Veruca after all, and with failure on this front, Charlie feared he would fail with all the other winners as well. There was nothing more he could do but leave the penthouse and let Veruca live her life, so he turned around and began walking back to the elevator. But before he left, he noticed the mover's blankets Herp let him borrow, Charlie went to grab them to take them down with him, and it was then that he was once again reminded of the wrapped box he had brought for Veruca.

With the gift wrapped in reflective wrapping paper in hand, Charlie walked over to Veruca, who's attention was now on the shiny box, and said as he handed her the gift, "Before I go, here, I brought this for you."

"Gimme!" The brat screamed as she snatched the gift from Charlie's hand, sounding much like her child self for that second she spoke.

Without much care for what lied underneath the cover, she unwrapped her gift impatiently, tearing through the silver wrapping paper violently and rapidly, exposing the multi-colored box below. The box had four sides, one side colored red, followed by blue, then orange, and finally brown, and each side had printed the name of the man who let her be attacked by a hoard of rodents as a child in a bold, stylized font, Wonka. It was an inner box, just like the ones the ladies working on the lines of Mr. Salt's processing facility pulled out of larger container boxes, which themselves came in the large cardboard shipping boxes, and shelled chocolate bars from for days until one of them found Veruca's Golden Ticket. Charlie asked for an inner box of candy to be delivered to the factory from the London distribution warehouse, one of twelve warehouses all over the world responsible for distributing Wonka candies to nearly every country on the planet and the one responsible for all domestic distribution throughout the UK, before heading out to pick up Veruca. The Good Boy even wrapped up the box of chocolates himself, adding even more personal charm to the gift his mentor suggested he take his special friend and that he hoped Veruca would enjoy as much as he enjoyed them.

"It's an assortment of fifteen Wonka Bars, the kind shops get delivered to sell. It's got all four flavours inside, I thought you might like it," Charlie explained, sounding sad as he spoke since he was all but certain that this would be the last time he ever spoke to Veruca.

As Veruca opened the top of the box and ran her right index finger down the line of packaged Wonka Bars the way you might run your finger down the keys of a piano, Charlie knew it was time to leave, and so he bid his fellow Golden Ticket winner a final solemn farewell, "Well, good night. See you...around."

The noise the mover's blankets made actually caught Veruca's attention as she did not tolerate anyone touching her stuff and such a noise in her penthouse set off that alarm that existed inside her head to look out for kleptomaniacs. While nothing of hers was being moved, something inside of her did move. All she saw as she stared towards her right was Charlie walking away towards the elevator, slumped over and marching away in defeat. This was quite a new sight for Veruca because every other time she had to go the extra mile to get what she wanted often ended in a predictable fashion, a fashion unlike this one. Her father would smile, almost devilishly, when he would get her what she wanted, her mother and other people close to her and her family would fake a smile when she was in the room but then most likely become disgusted when she'd leave, and every non-familial or professional encounter she had always had ended with the other person storming off in anger as they wanted no part of Veruca's spoiled behavior once they saw beyond her attractive exterior. Charlie was different, he actually came through with his promise like those closest to her, but he was neither proud of himself nor displeased with her, in fact it looked as if he wanted to kill himself.

Pity was an emotion Veruca had never felt before, she actually felt sorry for the poor boy, and she did not want to continue tolerating that knotted feeling forming in her stomach, which caused her to proclaim, "Stop!"

Charlie heeded Veruca's call and turned around, still looking depressed, and that was where he saw Veruca pick up a piece of the silver wrapping paper she tore off from her gift like a lion clawing away at the carcass of a gazelle, and pronounced, "Don't make me regret this."

She then proceeded to take the piece of wrapping paper to a desk next to the wall of the living room where a desktop computer rested and pulled out a pen from one of the drawers. Charlie saw her flip the wrapping paper over to the blank white side that made contact with the inner box, rather carelessly scribble something on the paper, and walk over to hand him the slip while she said, "Here, take this."

"What is this?" Charlie asked, examining the piece of wrapping paper as all he saw were a series of numbers written in black ink.

He had an idea of what the numbers meant but he wanted to hear it come out of Veruca's mouth as confirmation that he was not hallucinating, and that's what he got when the little brute hesitantly explained, "It's my phone number. Ring me on my mobile some day later and we'll figure out the details for your dinner excursion."

Charlie almost wanted to hug Veruca and cry, she had actually opened up to him, but instead all he did was chuckle and smile nervously, causing his fellow Golden Ticket winner to lash out in contempt, "Just go! I'm already regretting giving you my number. Don't make me take it back from you by force!"

The lucky boy took orders very well, Charlie now had a more confident look on his face and so he straightened himself up as he strolled over to the elevator, but before he got in, Veruca called out, "Oh, and take a shower when you get home, you smell worse than the incinerator."

The Good Boy just nodded at the request and quickly turned away to keep the little brute from seeing the smile that came over his face and thinking that he was laughing at the memory of her being assaulted by waves of squirrels and thrown down the garbage chute. And while Charlie would never in a million years find pleasure in that event, he very much enjoyed that Veruca was not pushing that special day into the back of her mind, but using it to elaborate on their blossoming relationship.