A Silent Storm

01. Mr Finkelstein

'Mr Linton?'

'Yes, Mr Ambrose, Sir?' I asked, pasting a sugary sweet smile on my face.

'What do you think this is?' If the emphasis on the word 'think' wasn't a clear enough indication of how angry he was, then the twitch of his left little finger definitely was.

'Why, of course, it's an invitation Sir.' I replied with all the cheerfulness of a kid who had just opened the best birthday present of his life.

His little finger twitched again. Once. Twice. Then, 'I can see that, Mr Linton. But what is it doing here, on my table, when I have specifically told you not to bring such useless things for me to read?'

'I'd thought that since a certain Mr Finkelstein was going to be at the gala, you'd be interested in going. But since you think its useless, I can just take it back.' I then proceeded to pick the 'useless thing' before quickly turning around so he wouldn't see my grin.

He had been trying to get a hold of a man named Mr Finkelstein for a while now. When last night Aunt Brank had hinted at how a certain Mr Finkelstein might be interested in me, I had put two and two together, realizing that it was the same Mr Finkelstein he had an interest in.

Mr Ambrose would obviously keep the man busy if he was at the gala which meant I'd be as free as a bird to do as I pleased, which included sitting in a quiet corner and devouring all the solid chocolates I could get my hands on.

I mentally counted my steps as I walked. With every step I took towards the door, a feeling of dread took over me.

Why wasn't he stopping me? Did he not want to meet him? Had they already met and I wasn't aware of it?

Blast! Blast! Blast!

What was I going to do now? How was I going to fend this man off? What if- God forbid- he actually liked me? What if -

'Mr Linton?'

I turned around at once. 'Yes, sir?'

A pause. Then, 'Tell them that I will be attending the gala.' If I didn't know better, I'd say he sounded almost reluctant. But this was Mr Ambrose we were talking about. The man would much rather gouge his eyes out than show any kind of an emotion.

I, on the other hand, had no such problems and grinned as wide as I could without seriously damaging any of my facial muscles. 'Of course, sir.' I nodded enthusiastically.

'Adequate.'

I was just about to go back when suddenly an idea came.

'Sir?'

He looked up. 'Yes, Mr Linton?'

'Do you, maybe, want me to fetch you a brand new tailcoat for the gala?' I knew there were better chances of hell freezing over than him buying new garments. But what I also knew was that he did not want to attend the gala and I definitely wasn't below rubbing a bit of a salt on his wounds.

Other than his eyes narrowing infinitesimally, I did not get much of a response. Silence colder than an iceberg filled the space between us. The kind of silence I had had months of practice getting used to. Maybe he had realized that it wouldn't affect me because he finally spoke,'Mr Linton?'

'Yes, Sir?'

'Shut up and get to work!'

'Of course, sir. Right away, sir.' I grinned before scurrying away.