The Bounty and the Briefcase (Cattlepunk) [WIP]

14 - The Crush

Lust at first sight. That was the only way Alo could describe what he felt for Vanessa the first time he saw her.

Alo knew the difference between lust and love. Lust was everything he had experienced in the past. Love was... not.

He called himself a ladies' man, always able to initiate a relationship. But, after finding out more about him and the baggage he came with,  they promptly left him.

According to them, his extreme alcoholism was the biggest problem, especially at the age of 19 (and since the age of 16). Nobody wanted to stay with a man who would die in five years.

But that wasn't what Alo wanted to think of right now. He'd rather think of how magnificent this girl looked in the fancy green dress, how interesting how British accent was, How her wavy brown hair bounced as she looked left and right about the car. And how she didn't make a comment on Alo taking a gulp of alcohol every three minutes.

However, at the moment, Vanessa was having a intellectual conversation with Martin. Alo didn't comprehend a lick of what they were talking about.

Frances had told him that she believed Martin was taken, but that was just it. Believed.

Alo slapped himself, ignoring the strange looks Martin and Vanessa gave him. How could he be jealous? This girl wasn't his (yet). In fact, this girl may have even already had a lover.

Alo decided it was his place to ask.

"--no, that's actually the wrong strait. On a map of Britain, just two degrees north of that, one would find--"

"Hey, Vanessa," Alo interjected.

The girl whipped her head to face him -- her hair -- and cleared her throat. She looked the slightest bit irked; usually, people reacted worse. "Yes, Aloysius?"

So Martin had told her his name. Great. "Well, come to as I see it, it may seem that I myself know nothing of the sort about you nor your character."

Martin cringed. "You okay there, Alo?"

Alo frowned. "Why, of course forsooth I am shall. For whatever preposterous reasoning could I not be of the genre?"

Frances dared a glance back at him, an eyebrow raised. Maybe this was a bit excessive.

"Um, could you repeat the previous statement?" Vanessa asked, looking worried.

"But of course absolutely I can, my darling. I said, 'I know next to nothing, if not nothing, about you. And I would not mind at all if you were to raconteur me a little smidget of something about yourself.' Do you understand, crumpet?"

Martin mouthed something like a swear.

Vanessa just tilted her head. "Did you just call me 'crumpet'?"

"Um, yes, my dear. Does it cause any issue to arise?"

The girl inhaled deeply, then exhaled, pushing her hair behind her shoulder. "No." She put her chin in her palm. "Well... I was born and raised in London. My family was incredibly wealthy, Victoria being related to me, of course."

Martin stopped her. "Victoria? Victoria who?"

"Queen Victoria," she replied nonchalantly, touching her hair again.

Before Alo knew it, he was flying forward into Martin's chair, the world tilting forwards. After all, he was the only one not wearing a seatbelt. The car's rear wheels landed, and Frances whipped her head around. "A lie!" The damn girl.

Vanessa shrugged. "I can prove it." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a platinum brooch encrusted with diamonds, shaped like a gear.

Martin's eyes widened. "It can't be... the brooch of the British royals."