So this is Love ● The Beast

{3}

My employer, Monsieur Deboef, stood behind the counter within his shop, the natural lighting running through the glass windows made it easy to see nearly every inch of the place. The shop was filled with hand crafted containers such as barrels, casks, and bucket. Deboef was the towns tradesman who made the finest butterchurns, staved vessels which were used to store things like: flour, tobacco, ale, wine, or even gunpowder. It was a craft that was much appreciated in this small town, which gave Deboef more business than he needed.

In a way, the massive business he receives from doing his skillful trade has given him an air of superiority that he's never minded on exposing to the public. Becoming such a necessity to his beloved townspeople has made him aware of just how far anyone want willing to go to get the thing they need.

"Ah, there she is," Deboef walked around the counter where he was crafting a new barrel ordered from a family in Villeneuve, his hands reddened from his tight grip on the makeshift hammer, woodchips scattered around his white linen shirt. He had abandoned his waistcoat and only rarely holds to the traditional wear when he's working. "My beautiful, little artist, my what a sight it is to see you around here. The only thing that can brighten up my day more than my woodwork."

I smiled at the older man, he was nearing his 30s and had opened his shop at the prime age of 21, his father had passed it down to him as a Wig making trade. "Oh, Monsieur, it's such a pleasure to see you again. I'm so glad you decided to let me make another mural for you." I let my bag drop beside me as the man came to embrace me, his hands on my lower back hugging me close, he released me with his hands around mine.

"The pleasure is mine, I assure you." His lips brushed the back of my hand, he didn't let go as he straightened up and began walking deeper into the shop urging me to follow. "Your work has caught the eye of many, their turning to my store like a drunk to their liquor." He chuckled to himself at his joke, I provided a false grin as I didn't find it as amusing as he did. "You've gathered quite a name for yourself, haven't you, Josette."

We stopped at the counter, he walks around it and pulls me along, "I'd like to think so. Although, you've been such a help to me, and I can't thank you enough, really." I clasped my hands together as he sat down, his latest work in front of him. It was a half finished barrel or butterchurner, the rod used to push the mixture into the barrel hasn't been made as of yet. "My family and I deeply appreciate you."

My mind drifted back to my father's words, how he said he actually quite despised Mr.Deboef, how he had told me not to come here without company or not at all.

"Even your old man?" Deboef suddenly asked, however he seems rather amused as he smirks while continuing his work, hammering down the metal bolts around the barrel. "He was quite insistent of me staying away from you, it was rather upsetting, I must admit."

My eye's widened. "Papa? He came to you?" My employer nodded in response, he turned away as it seemed his smirk only grew as he gave me a glinting side eye. "I-I'm very, deeply sorry, Monsieur--".

"Silas, please. Come now, Josie, we've talked about this." He interrupts and I breath a laugh with no amusement, my hands around my arm's.

"Forgive me, Monsieur, but I don't see that as professional. You are my employer after all." I admitted before watching as he suddenly stops his work, leaning back into his wooden chair as if thinking to himself thoughtfully.

"That's right. I am, aren't I." He laughed quietly to himself as if coming up with a realization, he then turned to me, his eyes boring into mine.

"That must mean that you need my shillings pretty badly, don't you, missy?" He asked me with a growing sly grin, he suddenly didn't look as sweet as I thought he was. I sucked in a breath as he stood from his chair, he moved towards me, his taller frame sized me up.

"We don't need anything from you." I clarified, "We would benefit greatly, however, if you agree to let us work with you." I looked away from him as he only moved himself closer.

He places both of his hands against either side of the wooden counter, I jump as he does so by slamming his hands down in the process. "Don't fool yourself, Josette. Don't think that just because I've been nice so far that I will accept that you'll leave upon request of that senile, old man." He leans down towards me, his tone threatening and a mere whisper.

I looked up at him instantly and glared at him harshly. "Mr.Deboef, I have worked with you for over a few months now. And although you have provided me with a fair amount of support for myself and my family, I do not accept your horrid, disrespectful behavior towards my father." I slip under his right arm and walk away from in front of him and around the wooden post. "Good day to you sir!"

Silas' eye's widen in disbelief, rushing down to catch me, I grumble to myself before I feel his hand wrap around my wrist as I lean down to retrieve my bag. "Hey!" I gasp as he yanks me upwards.

"No, no, no. That's not how this works." He growls out, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, almost as if he's never found himself in this position. "You can't leave just like that. I gave you business, I'm the only reason you haven't starved, you owe me for that." He protested, his grip around my smaller wrist bruising as he increased his grip in desperation. "I'm the only reason you've stayed alive this long. Don't be ungrateful and walk off like I've done nothing for you, Josette."

I pulled against his grip, my teeth grinding together in pain. "I can and I will leave, Silas. Although you've been helpful to me, I can never work with a man as thoughtless as yourself. I will never stand for a person who can be so cruel to any member of my family." I debated on hitting him as I pulled against his vice grip. "Now, Unhand me sir!"

Reluctantly, Silas let me go with a sneer before turning around and walking back towards the counter. "Don't think about coming back, unless you are ready to apologize for your mistakes, Ms.Wandler!"

I huffed as I heaved my bag over my shoulder, I was silent as I stomped towards the door and left the building without another word.

My grip on the strap of my bag tight and my hands growing numb, I sighed in exasperation. My feet dragging me towards my second job, finding myself with only one other option as I had potentially fired myself.

I stopped in front of another shop about a dozen shops down the market place, the crowd was growing larger as people came to buy and shop as always. A few customers were already inside my next workplace, an Apothecary shop. My employer: John Everett, was currently mixing a bundle of herbs with a mortar and pestle.

He greeted me and I sat down at my station to begin my work as I found the ingredients for the concoction I was assigned to create. How was I going to make enough money for the week now? I would have to find another job somewhere else in town If I wanted to be able to provide for me and Poppy.

I tore into the herbs together with the pestle as the customers crowded inside, some looking for cures for illnesses, others for kitchen herbs, the list goes on.

At the end of the day, I received my few pence for the day and with a quick thank you to my employer, he closed up shop for the night and I walked home. The market closing from the darkness settling in, candles were lit at several stations.

What a day.