Broken People (Serial)

Twenty-One

Dale wasn't used to having strangers pick him up from work or anywhere else. The terrifying thought that they might be police and his whole plan had been compromised was discarded when he saw no uniforms or badges. They approached him by the entrance, saying, "Boss has an errand for you. You're not working today."

The only boss Dale could think of was the Golden Lady, and he was in no position to decline the invitation. Too much depended on her goodwill. So far, she had played fair, but he didn't want to risk attracting her wrath, so he allowed her men to drive him back to her establishment.

This time, the entrance guard didn't signal him to go upstairs, but opened a door to a small lounge on the ground floor where Aurore and Rosie were chatting over biscuits and tea. It looked more like a one-sided chat because the little girl was busy shoving biscuits into her mouth, only nodding from time to time. In the crook of her bad arm, she held a long, narrow package wrapped in brown paper.

"You wanted to see me?" Dale asked, stopping inside. He wasn't in the mood for biscuits and tea, and made no effort to hide the low growl in his voice.

"How nice of you to come, Mr. Armstrong. Do come in." Aurore's smile lacked the usual coldness.

She gestured at the tea, but Dale shook his head.

"I need you to do something for me," Aurore said. "I want you to take Rosie to the circus today."

"I'm not a babysitter," Dale replied. "You can put my services to better use."

The child glared at him.

"Rosie is a big girl. She doesn't need a babysitter," Aurore said patiently. "She is going to have her hand fixed, and that fixture—" she pointed at the package Rosie was holding, "—was very hard to find. So I need you to make sure she arrives at the circus all right, wait for her during the procedure, and bring her back here when she's done."

"That's still babysitting," Dale said, ignoring the way the little girl smirked at him while chewing on her biscuits.

"Call it whatever you want as long as you're doing it," Aurore said. "Any questions?"

"Yes. Is this considered a favor? Or will it cover part of my debt to you?"

"Business ... I like that." Aurore nodded. "Okay. Five percent. That's a lot of money for two hours of your time."

"At least four hours," Dale said. "Going there and back; plus, assuming they can do it on the spot, the time she needs to wake up from the anesthesia. That's at least four hours."

"It's still more than a babysitter gets in any part of the world," Aurore said, "and you're not getting any more. Are you ready to go?"

Rosie nodded widely. She shoved two more biscuits into her mouth, wiped the crumbs from her lips with the back of her hand, and jumped off the sofa.

With a fluid motion, Aurore stood up, too. She wore a dark green skirt that stopped just above her knees, revealing five centimeters of golden skin peeking out from above the black leather boots. The skin gleaming in the daylight made Dale wonder how far up her legs the prosthetics went. Was any part, besides her face and cleavage, still natural? And why gold? Neither was a question Dale had any desire to ask her directly.

"After you." He gestured for Rosie to go ahead. When she left the room, he said over his shoulder, "It's still babysitting."

"Yes, it is. But you're not keen on the bouncer gig, are you?" Aurore rested her hands on her hips.

Dale started for the door. "You could have asked."

"You do know they call me the Golden Lady, right?" Aurore asked. "It's actually a euphemism for the Bitch from Hell."

"Yeah. And you just contradicted it by doing this for her." He nodded towards the hallway and didn't wait for an answer.

"Well, you won't be in town long enough to ruin my reputation," Aurore spoke into the empty room.