Sarah blinked. She hadn’t expected that but for some reason was curious to know what Raven had was planning. “Ok, so what do I get if you fail… when you fail?”
Raven shrugged her shoulders, “You get to keep the five hundred dollars and I’ll never bother you again.”
Working things out in her mind, Sarah couldn’t see the downside. She was either about to be five hundred dollars richer or she was going to be free from her contract and opening her own shop. Either way she was getting something out of this deal so she decided to take the bet.
They shook hands over the railing and Raven asked where she was going and who she was talking to. Sarah gave her directions to Mr. Jackson’s office, located in a seedier part of town, along with her copy of the contract still stuffed in her pocket. With a final wave, Raven sauntered back into the bustling city like she hadn’t a care in the world. Sarah went back to shoeing the horse. Regardless of Raven’s success, she still needed to finish this job.
After a short ride Raven stood in front of a dilapidated brick building displaying a forlorn sign which read, “Jackson and Son’s Real Estate.” Marching up the steps, she was greeted with a host of cat calls from a small group of men who were just as seedy as the neighborhood. With a satisfied smile, she turned the knob and walked inside. “This is going to be easier than I thought.”
The first thing she did after walking inside, however, was wrinkle her nose at the smell of old cigar smoke and rarely washed humanity. Lights swung from fraying cords, their unnatural glare washing out the colors of the interior. A rug so old and threadbare that parts of the wooden floor were beginning to poke through coughed up small clouds of dust as she walked down the hallway, searching for Mr. Jackson’s office. She found it and was immediately surer of her success than she had been previously. A brightly polished plaque on a door that was long overdue for a new coat of paint announced to anyone who cared that Robert Jackson, Esquire, conducted business within.
Wiping the cheerful smile off her face, Raven replaced it with what she figured a business like stare looked like and knocked. A deep, rasping voice told her to come in, so she did. It took every bit of will power she possessed to not to start jumping up and down when she met Mr. Jackson face to face.
A man in his mid-50s stood in the middle of the room. He was large, about 6’3, Raven guessed as he turned and looked down at the girl who had dared invade his space. He would once have been muscular but years of paper wrangling turned it to flab. The graying man with thick, heavy jowls wore a shirt that long ago turned from white to a dingy yellow. Large sweat stains darkened the sides almost down to his belt which struggled valiantly to remain intact while holding back a rather large gullet.
Quickly Raven scanned the room, taking stock of the situation. The man wasn’t a threat and so of no interest, but she needed to figure out how to proceed. The desk, made of heavy oak, sat in the middle of the room with random papers piled on top. A high backed leather chair supported Mr. Jackson behind the desk, while a smaller, wooden chair sat in front. Two file cabinets rested against the far right wall and a coat rack stood at attention near the door. Thick, brick walls made up the building and a small window facing a nearly identical brick wall was barely visible past the man’s girth. Raven bit the inside of her lip to keep from smiling. This room was almost completely sound proof which allowed her a great deal more leeway in negotiations.
“What can I do for you, little missy?” Mr. Jackson, Esquire leered, not even bothering to disguise the fact he was undressing Raven with his eyes. She briefly considered keeping them as a memento but decided letting him remain sighted was a little more important than parting gifts. But just a little.
Without being asked, Raven sat down in a chair. She noted it was intentionally lower than the chair Mr. Jackson occupied by several inches, meant to give the impression that whoever sat in it was beneath the man behind the desk. She wanted to get things finished in a hurry because, by her timing, there were roughly 20 minutes to get this settled and back to Sarah.
“I am here to inquire about buying out Sarah Petty’s contract with you, Mr. Jackson.” Raven pulled the document out of her pocket and laid it on top of the cluttered desk, right under the man’s nose.
“That contract isn’t for sale, missy.” The older man laughed and flipped the contract back at Raven, who caught it with one hand.
“It’s Ms. White, and I’m prepared to make you a more than fair offer. Three months rent, plus the loss of the deposit.” Raven knew he wouldn’t give up that easy but needed a few more details before they could get down to brass tacks.
Mr. Jackson glowered at the girl across from him for a minute, thinking to make her uneasy. He knew her type, had known it the moment she walked in his door. A rich, university educated snob that had probably never done a day of real work in her life. The smallest threat would make her scamper like a whipped cur. “Missy,” he blustered, “that contract is not for sale. It wasn’t when that uppity girl came in here this morning, and it’s not for sale to you.”
Raven let a look of apprehension cross her features, allowing Mr. Jackson, Esquire think he was in command. She knew now how the negotiations would end up, but wanted to have a little fun first.
Putting a finger to her lips, she appeared to ponder things for a second before speaking. “Mr. Jackson, there are legal channels we could go through if you wish to fight this. However, Ms. Petty wishes to honor the wording of the contract to the fullest extent. A recent opportunity has manifested itself and she is looking to leave this city. I ask simply that you take our more than generous offer and allow her to depart peacefully.”
“The courts around here aren’t going to listen to you, missy. I’ve got friends in very high places you see. There’s nothing a little brat like you can do about it.” Mr. Jackson sneered pompously as he anticipated the girl’s dismay. He was sorely mistaken.
Raven’s right eyebrow slowly crawled up her forehead. Only one person in the world was allowed to call her a brat and it damned sure wasn’t this filth wallowing slug. Still, it’d be hard for him to annul the contract after losing most of his motor functions so she didn’t follow her first impulse. Instead she smiled at him with all the warmth of a guillotine’s kiss.
“Thank you, Mr. Jackson; I have learned almost everything I needed to.” She hesitated briefly to let her words sink in. “First, I already know how the courts work in Vestavia, my sister having dealt with them quite often in the past. I don’t think any of your ‘friends in high places’ are willing to challenge me on this issue.”
Mr. Jackson sat upright in his chair, his jowls flushing with anger.
“Second,” Raven pointed to a coat-of-arms gathering dust on wall just behind Mr. Jackson, “Due to that insignia I know that the Protectorate is backing you. I was afraid you worked with someone who would be a bother but those annoying twits are even less worrisome than the courts. Once Sarah and I leave, we’ll be well beyond their reach.”
Mr. Jackson rose to his full height, shaking in rage and slammed his fist on the desk. Spittle flew from his lips as he sputtered at this child who dared speak down to him in his own office.
Raven remained calm, knowing that she was more than a match for chunky britches. “Third, I know you have to agree to annul the contract, Mr. Jackson. The only thing I don’t know is if you’re smart enough to sign it before my family has to get involved. And in the spirit of full disclosure, my last name isn’t really White.”
With that, she began negotiations in earnest.
Sarah was starting to worry a little about Raven. After finishing with the horse, she glanced at a clock on the wall and noticed she had been gone almost 25 minutes. The part of town where Mr. Jackson’s office was located wasn’t the safest place for a young woman to travel alone. She never made the trip unless it was absolutely necessary. The danger wasn’t as great in the morning.
“Oh who am I kidding?” Sarah asked the horse who was now contentedly munching a mouth f
ull of hay. The gelding only flicked his ears at a buzzing fly in response so Sarah made up her own mind. With a grunt she slipped a small knife into the pocket of her jeans. It would be great if things weren’t that bad but better safe than sorry.
“Where are you going?” Someone barked directly into her right ear.
Sarah nearly jumped out of her skin and jerked the knife, ripping a new hole in her pants. She spun to see Raven snickering.
“I was going to save you!” Sarah muttered in annoyance. She tried putting the knife back in its pocket but the damage was too severe. Muttering some more, Sarah put the weapon on top of a nearby shelf and turned again to Raven, who was attempting, with little success, to mask the laughter that bubbled behind her lips.
“These were my best work jeans.” Sarah wasn’t the least bit amused by the trick and was starting to slide past the annoyed stage and into the realm of royally ticked off.
“Eh, it won’t be for long.” Raven’s serenity served only to irritate Sarah more.
“How do you know what I will or won’t have?” Sarah almost shouted, growing hotter by the second. “Some of us don’t have the money you seem to…” Her words trailed off as Raven held the contract in front of her eyes. In large red letters the word, annulled, was written with a hastily scribbled Mr. Robert Jackson, Esquire at the bottom.
Her anger fading like a summer cloud, Sarah leapt at Raven with joy and wrapped the pale skinned girl in a giant bear hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She kept saying over and over as Raven tried gently to disengage from the death grip which was causing oxygen to become a bit of an issue.
When she was finally released, and after checking for broken ribs, Raven reminded Sarah of their bet. Sarah nodded enthusiastically, still giddy over being free of that horrible man. She would have agreed to walk to the moon if someone had suggested it right then.
“I’m guessing you don’t have a ball gown.” Raven stated matter-of-factly. Sarah shook her head and started to say something but was interrupted. “I’ve already got it taken care of. You have an appointment at Lafitte’s Boutique in half an hour. They know to put everything on my account and what you’ll need to wear.”
Lafitte’s? Sarah’s knew she heard wrong. That was the single most exclusive shop in the entire country. The doors remained locked to everyone except those who were members. Rumors circulated that there was an actual waiting list and not even belonging to the upper caste assured one of entry. She had spent hours staring at the beautiful gowns in the windows when she was younger, before dreams gave way to reality.
“How do you have a membership there?” Sarah knew she shouldn’t be surprised by anything at this point but some things were just too strange.
Raven whistled mysteriously. “The great thing about becoming friends is that we’ll get to learn new things about each other all the time. Now wash up. Even if you have an appointment they won’t let you in the door looking like a beggar.”
Sarah stepped inside to rinse away the morning’s toil. When she returned, Raven was leaning into the front window of the car they rode in last night, talking to the driver. Raven waved her over and said that everything was ready.
“Why can’t I just walk? Sarah wondered.
“Because it would take to long.” Raven held open the back door and pushed it shut once Sarah was safely in.
With an attitude of acceptance rapidly developing after the strange happenings over the last 24 hours, Sarah had to shrug. What was a trip to an exclusive boutique after everything else she’d seen? “You had time to stop by and set up an appointment for me after you went to Mr. Jackson’s?”
“No. I set up the visit before I came by this morning.” Raven told her.
“How did you know I’d agree?”
“Because you’re a good person and wouldn’t force me to go alone.”
Sarah felt herself becoming agitated by the conversation. “If you were so sure, then why make the bet?”
“Cause if we hadn’t bet you wouldn’t have told me where to find your former landlord.” Raven patted the roof of the car with two muffled bangs. “I’ll meet you there at six o’clock sharp. I have some more business to finish up but Bodie will take good care of you.”
The car started to drive away but slammed to a stop as Sarah leaned out of the window. “I just have one more question. How did you get Mr. Jackson to agree to end the contract?”
Raven gave a coy smile. “I just paid him two months rent and batted my eyes a little.”
Why don’t I believe that? Sarah asked herself as the car turned left onto the main street towards the upper class section of the city.
Across town in the offices of Robert Jackson and Son’s Real Estate, Mr. Robert Jackson, Esquire sat staring at a bag of gold coins on top of his desk, still shaken by the morning’s events. He couldn’t believe it but the girl proved who she was and now worry was gnawing at his stomach. It was one thing to bully the poor in this town; he even paid a small stipend to the Protectorate to get away with some of the less than completely legal tactics he employed. To cross paths with a member of THAT family was begging for trouble though. Worse still he had threatened her.
Mr. Jackson brushed a hand over his face to wipe away the sweat. Despite the loss of a reasonably valuable contract, he felt that never seeing either of those girls again would be more than worth it.
CHAPTER 3: RICH AND FAMOUS
“I don’t wanna go!” The girl screamed in the silence of the chamber.
“Stupid balls. Stupid dresses. I’m gonna be bored to tears! Just because you want to know something about the stupid Prime Minister.” The redhead was yelling at a picture of a beautiful olive skinned woman with the name “Elspeth” on the gold plaque. She kicked the wall under the portrait and started hopping around on one foot while rubbing her injured toe.
Suddenly she spun around and pointed a finger at the shadow which seemed to pulse with anticipation, “And you stay back there or so help me there will be consequences.”
The shadow shrunk backwards and the girl continued her ranting.
The blacksmith got out of the car and stared for a moment at Lafitte’s Boutique. The two story building was built with blocks of granite and had no dirt or grime that she could see. Four pillars at the top of a short flight of stairs leading to the entrance supported a second level balcony with an intricately carved railing. Six broad windows, three on either side of the main stairs, boasted the most glorious and expensive looking outfits she’d ever seen. Two armed guards, both wearing identical perfectly pressed uniforms, were stationed at the front door. Glinting in the warm spring sunlight, the entire building sparkled like a rare and flawless jewel.
As she stood gawking, forgetting entirely why she was supposed to be there, a recognizable figure exited a long black car, striding up the steps and saying something indistinguishable to the guards. Sarah looked down at her tattered old jacket as she fidgeted with her necklace, trying to remember where she had seen the increasingly agitated woman before. The guards calmly maintained their stance in front of the door, refusing to acknowledge the woman wearing the bright yellow dress as she shrieked in their faces. Finally accepting defeat the woman turned and stormed back down the steps to the waiting car. As she got a good look at the lady’s features, Sarah recognized her as the mayor of Vestavia’s wife, one of the most popular women in town according to the newspaper’s Society section. She’d often wondered what it would be like to attend one of the lavish parties held at their estate.
“What am I doing here?” Sarah said, trying to talk herself out of this adventure. “I think Raven’s trying to pull one over on me and I should just go home before I get arrested for being a derelict.”
But, remembering that she lost the bet, Sarah marched towards the boutique with grim determination.
Reaching the two guards Sarah fully expected them to immediately threaten her, or at least look down their noses. The one on the left just blankly requested that she show them
her membership card.
At least they’ll be polite when they toss me on the side of the road, Sarah figured. “My name is Sarah Petty. Raven White set me up an appointment for this afternoon.”
As the guard on the left examined a sheet of paper pulled from inside his jacket, Sarah took a second to examine them. Both wore Protectorate dress uniforms. Identical maroon jackets with black pants and black boots so polished they could easily be used as mirrors. Wool caps covered their ears and hair, making color indeterminable. They also carried swords at their sides; not the flimsy kind of weapons worn by other Protectorate men in their finest. These swords, she noticed with a trained eye, were meant for business. These guards weren’t simply here to impress people. They were here for protection.
The guard checking his list interrupted her study. “Yes, Ms. Petty. We’ve been expecting you.” He nodded to the guard on the right, who produced a key and slid it into a lock.
“Please enjoy your visit ma’am.”, said the guard who unlocked the door. He politely held it open while Sarah stepped inside and was promptly struck dumb.
She had never seen the inside of Lafitte’s before. The windows where they showcased the latest fashions were backed by white walls so the interior couldn’t be seen from the street. The door she entered through was thick cherry wood and had no windows at all. Everywhere Sarah turned to look, she saw something more expensive and amazing than she ever dreamed possible. A marble staircase in the center of the room lead to the second floor and several large glass cases filled with what she bet was priceless jewelry took over the entire right side of the store. There were maybe ten people she could see meandering through the displays. A pink dress, worn by a mannequin the size of a small child, caught her eye and she ran her fingers softly over the silk material. Gossamer ribbons tied at the back and three diamonds, each a quarter of an inch in diameter, were used in place of buttons. Out of curiosity Sarah looked for a price tag, but found none. Just then, a voice greeted her from behind. She spun around, embarrassed without really understanding why.
WINDOWS: A BROKEN FAIRY TALE Page 3