Of Silk and Death.

Chapter 14

As the taxi drove Peter and me back to my house, I explained my plan for the party in more detail.

The ball would proceed as planned, ensuring Father would not suspect a thing. With Father only focusing on the event going fine, the rest of the staff and the guests would keep their guard down. That would give us the certainty that the Jorogumo would also not suspect anything, only focusing on the ostentatious meal it might get that night.

Then, the plan would be put in motion with the introduction of bait.

"George will be perfect bait," I told Peter, "he doesn't believe what we told him. It's for the best. He will not behave in a way the creature might render suspicious."

"But what if she doesn't want him?" Peter asked me, trying not to call the taxi driver's attention to our conversation.

"For food? Unless she's picky about what she eats, it's not going to make a difference," I said, assuming the main goal of the Jorogumo was to pick tasty dishes from a platter of wealthy men.

"She's not looking for a suitor, Peter. She wants a meal. She'll want him as long as we make him look appetizing enough."

"Well, that means a whole change of looks if you ask me," Peter smirked. "He's not the most handsome fella in the world."

"He's handsome enough," I said, smirking at the sudden twinge of jealousy in Peter's face as I said it. "Anyway, we can treat it as a nice shopping spree before the party."

"Will you come with me? To help me with him?" Peter asked me, smiling.

"Of course. Hopefully, I can push my parents to allow me the days as...wait," I said, frowning a bit, thinking about it. "Am I even invited to your party? My parents will just let me in the hotel if I am."

"Why would you doubt that?" Peter said, taking my hand. I could feel myself turning red like a tomato because of it.

"I don't know," I laughed, embarrassed. "Why should I assume I'm automatically invited to any party you make?"

We arrived back home around two in the afternoon.

As we crossed the street, I waved at Misses Donofrio and Mathilde, who, as always, were looking out the window of their apartment. Peter smiled and decided to wave at the old woman, who frowned suspiciously as she waved back at us.

"Who's that?" Peter asked, curious about my neighbor.

"That's Misses Donofrio, our landlady. She's the widow of a rich Italian trader," I said, then pointing at the cat. "And that white ball of fur is Mathilde."

Peter stood there on the street, looking at them in a strange and funny standoff, while I walked up the little flight of stairs and took out the key to open the front door.

"I don't think they like me," he laughed, walking up the stairs and standing beside me.

"Well, you are a strange young man who just arrived with the sixteen-year-old child of one of her tenants. That could be seen as suspicious," I said, chuckling.

"This is a nice neighborhood," Peter said, looking around, quite surprised.

"You seem surprised," I laughed. "It's Murray Hill, it's a pretty fancy place."

"Well, I don't know much about this city," Peter said, shrugging.

"If you want to spread your name around town, you better start learning about it," I said, smiling. "Like which neighborhoods can bring potential clients or workers to The Arlington. This is certainly one of them."

I opened the front door to the building and walked inside. Peter closed the door behind us, and we began walking up the stairs to my apartment on the last two floors of the five-story building.