Broken People (Serial)

Twenty-Eight

The day of the show arrived, and Dale still didn't know why he had been invited to attend. He hadn't seen Aurore since taking Rosie to the circus ... not that he minded. Rosie had returned the next night for another sleepover, once again carrying a box loaded with cakes, a sign she remained in contact with her benefactor. She was absent this evening, but Dale had arranged for her to see the show. Although the tickets had sold out, Rake and Spinner had taken a liking to the little girl and promised to find her a seat. Dale didn't worry about it. If anyone could take care of themselves and achieve what they wanted, it would be Rosie.

He did, however, worry when he showed up to pick Aurore up as instructed. The rented suit squeezed him in all the wrong places, reminding him of the parade uniform he wore while in the army before the war got so bad, there were no more reasons for which to parade. He didn't understand how Renard could willingly wear a tailcoat every day. It was a matter of image, he reckoned. If Aurore needed a suit to hang onto, she should have asked the magician to accompany her. But, of course, the magician was working tonight.

The doorman made him wait in the lobby until Aurore came downstairs a few minutes later. A long black cape covered her from head to toe, hiding everything except her face. She wore little makeup, and inside the loose hood, her blonde hair fell free.

"Should I go change?" Dale asked when Aurore's light blue-gray eyes lingered on him a second too long.

"No, it's fine." She smiled. "I would have given you the address of my tailor, but Rosie insisted you could handle the matter by yourself."

Dale made a mental note to thank the girl for sparing him the torturous experience.

"I'm ready. Let's walk," Aurore said, barely giving the doorman time to open the door for her.

Years of hiding his emotions helped Dale cover his surprise. He had never seen the Golden Lady walking alone in the street, and he had made sure to keep a discreet eye on her once they became business partners. An armored car always waited for her in front of the building. Someone with a high profile like her was bound to have enemies, so why take the risk now?

"You're wondering about this," Aurore said while they walked together on the sidewalk.

People parted in front of them as if they knew who was hiding inside the cape. They probably did, especially those living on this street. Heads bowed, eyes looked away, no one attempted to speak or nod at her. Several couples followed the same route, apparently also heading to the theater. Aurore ignored them all.

She walked with confidence on the cobblestones, the setting sun casting a glowing light on her delicate features. Well? she seemed to ask as she watched him from the corner of her eye.

"You want something from me," Dale said. This wasn't a courtesy call.

Aurore nodded, and a small smile twisted the corners of her lips. "I want you to do me a favor."

It wasn't the answer Dale had hoped for, but he repressed the impulse to grab and shake her. He doubted it would have helped. The woman was like a rock. So instead of assaulting her in the middle of the street, Dale inhaled deeply, only to grimace the next second when the smoke rising from the kiosks on both sides of the street filled his lungs. It got worse in the square they entered next. Aurore walked as fast as her high heels allowed, but Dale was used to walking faster and still getting a headache from the smoke. This was going to be a big one.

He cast a glance at her. "Then I guess this isn't the right time for me to say I'm getting sick of this game."

"It's not a game," Aurore said. "But we'll talk about this after the show. There's a reception after it, so this will be a long night. I hope you didn't make any plans."