No Strings

Chapter 54--Contract

William was right, in a sick way one had to admire Starbucks for its commercial kitch appeal. The art, the musical notes and their siren had admirable points. I noted the simple and replicable nature of the pieces. It had advertise me written all over the graphics. The Rat Pack sung in the background about everything besides what they were known for--alcohol and women. If there was anything closer to mass commercial success without tons of television ads, this was the company that earned that gold prize.

William greeted me with his coffee. I eyed the substance.

"It's not poisoned, you know," he said.

"Don't they make it extra strong to make sure that their customers come back?" I asked.

"I think the coffee isn't the best. But I may as well while I'm here. You're the one that called me here, weren't you?"

I nodded. "Did you finish the paperwork?"

He shuffled through his bag and then presented the papers. My golden ticket to an eternity in a spacious house--albeit with two stuck doors I wouldn't be able to open in a few years and life with my best friend was through these papers.

"It wasn't that hard to get them. I filed them with City Hall in Boston."

He put one arm behind the chair. "You look a bit too pleased that you failed to get a date in the last few months."

"I like that house."

He smirked. "Did you fail to get a proper date for that reason?"

"Perhaps. I think my ferrets, new spider, ball python and hedgehog will like it in there."

The animal room was spacious. They get a whole room to play by themselves. The lighting was good too.

"What's wrong with the doors again?" I asked.

I stroked the papers with my hand. The life of a single woman was going to behind me soon.

"They were painted shut, I think. They are painted wood, and there is no way to extract them without breaking them down with the frame. I'm not confident that I could do it on my own."

"A secret set of rooms, eh?" I was repeating myself.

"We have no guarantees of getting into those rooms, you know."

"I want to see the pantry in it. Maybe it has riches or some antiques, or a very old and expensive wine."

He shook his head. "I doubt it's that frozen in time."

"But the shades are drawn in that room, so we would never know if something like ghosts live in there."

"How many romance novels did you read?" he asked. He sipped his coffee.

I grabbed the papers and tried to put them back into his bag. It was filled with sketchpads, some pencils and other things.

"Not that many. I read more turn of the century novels. I liked them."

"Like the Pre-Raphaelite movement?" he asked.

"What movement?"

"Never mind. Art history. Modern art history from the nineteenth century."

He took a longer sip. He gulped.

"So when is the deed to be done? Who did you get to witness for us?"

"Lacey will be there with some friend. Aren't you inviting Lu-yin?"

"Yeah, in case Lacey can't show up."

He leaned forward cradling the cup in his hands. The coffee table was small. It rocked a little against the surface of the floor, but he wasn't forcing it to rock.

"We'll do it during lunchtime. Everyone should be free then. The court has an opening on Wednesday. We can move into the house on the following Saturday and Sunday."

"I'm fine with that."

His eyes were dancing. He was finding this as fun as I was.

"Alright, let's do it."

He tucked in the papers, tried to gulp down the rest of the papers. "I have to get going--but be there at eleven o'clock, OK?"