Temptations

ɎChapter♠FifteenɎ

Foster fell back into his chair, stretching his arms back and yawning. He'd been working on the papers and documents for days on end, only stepping outside for the very rare breath of fresh air. Roger might have had the right idea, taking his chances with the Royal Navy. Honestly, the amount of work he'd been subjected too was about as torturous as having to follow one of the upper merchants as a gods damned servant, just to get the little information they'd leak.

With a soft mewl escaping his lips, Foster stood from his chair. He'd spent enough time working over the last four days, he enjoyed a bit of fun. Maybe that woman could find a way to entertain him, though he hadn't seen her since that first day in Gaspar's home.

He still hadn't figured out who she was. In no legend, story or song was there ever mentioned a woman other than the whores he fucked and stole. Not a wife, with the way she spoke. But a whore was also out of the question. He'd guessed daughter but not even a rumor was whispered of Gaspar having a child.

Scratching his head, Foster made his way down to the tavern. Gaspar protected it making it the most popular tavern in Pirate's Gulf. They all came in hopes of finding the captain himself and only left with empty pockets and a drunken stumble.

"If it isn't my tenant." The man at the counter shouted in glee as he poured a mug of ale. "On the house! Considering you own the house itself, of course." The grin on his face showed how happy the man was here, and Foster couldn't help but wonder why the bartender liked it so much.

"Pardon, but I didn't catch your name."

"George! I've been the tender here for nearly 30 years, and thanks to your rates, I'll stay for another 30 more." He laughed as he served more drinks. Foster was surprised by the man's admissions.

"If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?" He couldn't be more than 30. George was tall and burly, a walking intimidator with muscles bigger than his head and almost as big as that large fellow named Jack.

"Turnin' 57 in a couple of weeks actually. And you? Ya look a little young to be a tenant."

"Well I'm actually 27, but by trading standards, that's very young."

"Hm, you should be married with children. Why the hell would you want to get into this business, especially at Pirate's Gulf? This place will swindle you dry."

Foster looked down, away from George's curious gaze. "Ah, I see. No need to say anything, boy. I understand just fine." Foster furrowed his brows, confused. "Many of these men were the same, but none managed to get under the good graces of The Captain himself." George winked at him with a grin. "Speaking of, how did you do that exactly?" Foster simply shrugged.

"I don't know. A couple days ago I was down at the ports, looking for a ship that could take me out to England, when a giant man came and pulled aside, saying Gaspar asked to speak with me. Of course, I was shaking in my boots, but it's not like I had a choice, you know? It's Pirate's Gulf, it's not like I could hide anywhere that Gaspar wouldn't have found me. So of course I followed and this woman was there waiting for me and said Gaspar wanted me to work for him." George looked at him with a confused.

"A woman? I've never heard of a woman in Gaspar's ranks. The big guy, that was definitely Jack. He's Gaspar's right hand and does most of the business and meetings."

"I mean, yeah Jack did most of the talking, she was probably just a whore or something." Foster continued, remembering the deal he made with her about her secret. He quickly downed the rest of his mug. "Speaking of, you have any recommendations in here?" He looked around eyeing the beauties who sat on other men's laps.

"Unfortunately, I don't partake in those kinds of activities," He said, looking down at Foster. "But from what I've heard, the blonde over there is quite flexible." He filled up another mug.

Foster took the ale, nodding thanks at George and saying a lightful "Cheers," before walking away towards the blonde herself.