The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle

Not long after finishing his cake and an enjoyable conversation with Spencer, he spied Mark sitting alone at the bar having a drink. He briefly considered calling them even for getting him the small piece of cake, but…he couldn’t let his emotions get in the way of a job. Any favor, no matter how small, could be useful later.

Chloe returned to the table with Beatrice. "So nice of you to return, Chloe.” Beatrice chided but maintained her trademark smile.

"We were afraid you might have lost your way." The gray haired woman in pink chortled, shaking her large bust without so much as an eyebrow raise or smile from a face that had seen more than its share of face lifts as she spoke with some odd New England accent.

Chloe bit his tongue and smiled with a curtsey. "Ever so sorry." He said sarcastically before Beatrice pulled him into the seat next to her.

"Chloe, this is my dear friend, Delilah Fulbrette."

Chloe smiled and did his best to contain his laughter. It wasn’t even that the joke he made with Spencer was that funny, but the odds that the one old woman he singled out was Beatrice’s friend who he was now expected to sit with was too funny. Dropping into a curtsey as he had been trained to do, and repeated so much throughout the evening, “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs.Luftballoon.”

“Beg pardon?” Delilah asked.

Chloe paused in shock for a moment as he mentally scolded himself for acting like a child, “...Apologies,” he let a small giggle escape his painted smile as he sat in his chair, “I meant no disrespect. It’s just I’ve, like, met so many new people today.”

Beatrice glared at her granddaughter while her friend simply giggled along with the young girl. “I have had my fair share of mental lapses at these soirees.”

Silently Chloe breathed a sigh of relief as he looked to his fake grandmother with that same smile. He didn’t like being thought of as some airheaded teen, but it came with less expectations than a debutante. “Yes.” Beatrice said cooly, “I was just telling Delilah how you had recently moved in with us at the manor.”

“Bea always was the charitable sort. I remember when my old mustang had gone to pot and father wanted to sell it, she took it in and fixed it up so it would still be in the family."

Chloe's eyebrow arched in surprise, "I didn't know you knew about cars."

Delilah again tittered at the young girl. Beatrice said smoothly, "It was a horse, not a car. Her father bred horses."

“Yes,” She smiled smugly, “father had three grand champion winners before he passed.”

“That’s…cool?” Chloe didn’t know anything about horses outside of the track he had been to a total of two times in his life.

“Indeed.” She smirked to her friend as if to say ‘kids these days.’

“Do you still breed horses?” He asked in more of an attempt to be polite than actual interest.

“After father passed my husband attempted to take over the family business but…it takes a special talent and skill to discern which mare should breed with which horse that few people these days have.”

“That’s a shame.” Chloe gave the woman a sympathetic smile.

“Oh we did fine. Reginald had better luck with numbers than he did horses.”

“Was he a banker too? You know, M-my father”-he cleared his throat, catching himself-“was in banking until-”

“No, Chloe.” Beatrice interrupted, placing her hand on his and giving it a firm squeeze, “Reginald was a venture capitalist.”

“Oh…”He didn’t want to bother with another bank heist, especially as Chloe, but he needed to find an in. Chloe frowned, Jared had always got onto him for not staying focused on one job at a time. A cash prize was an easier score than trying to sell old books to be sure, but it was frustrating how little physical cash there was in the computer age.

Beatrice smiled, patting Chloe’s hand for a moment, “Don’t mind her, Chloe is just a daddy’s girl. She’s always thinking of him.”

“Yup.” He went along.

“I can understand that. Especially since…”

“Since what, dear?”

“Well, I do not wish to speak out of turn, but there are rumors that your son is currently…unemployed.”

Beatrice laughed, waving her hand in her face, her laugh was perfect and controlled like everything else she did. It was also fake and hid a wellspring of anger. “I cannot believe you of all people would listen to such unfounded rumors.”

“So it’s not true?”

“Well,” she rolled her eyes, still smiling with her teeth, “all rumors have a kernel of truth to them I imagine. No, Mark is simply transitioning from his previous employ to something more fitting of his station.”

“Truly?”

“Truly. We had discussed it at length before his arrival. He has decided he is better suited for our accounting firm.”

“How splendid.”

“It is, the job does not start until next month so I simply suggested, why not stay with me until then that way I would be able to spend time with my granddaughter.”

“That is wonderful. There is nothing as important as family.”

“Truly. Speaking of, where is young William?”

“He’s around here somewhere.” She said, craning her neck left and right to search for the boy. “I see him, won’t be a moment.” She said, excusing herself with a smile and walking away.

Once Delilah left Beatrice’s smile turned hard and rigid. “Everything okay?” Chloe asked as the woman’s anger poured off of her in waves.

In a moment the oppressive anger vanished, “Everything is fine, dear. Someone is spreading scurrilous rumors about our family. But it is to be expected by those who are envious of what we have.”

“...I mean, it is true though. Pop-Father is out of work right now…and is it really that big a deal? I bet most people here don’t have an actual job.”

“Do you think I would not help my own son if he were having trouble?”

“Uh…I don’t know.”

For a second Chloe thought she saw hurt in the old woman’s eyes but just as quickly it too vanished. “We do not let family fall by the wayside.”

“We?” Chloe asked but their conversation was interrupted by Spencer placing a small bowl of fruits in front of Chloe.

“Von Luftballoon is on the move, agent Rocky.”

“Good looking out, agent Bullwinkle.” Chloe chuckled as he picked up a grape and popped it in his mouth.

“I thought my codename was phoenix.”

“Out of my control, word came down from director beaver.” Spencer rolled his eyes with a smile that quickly faded when he saw the daggers Beatrice was staring into him. Spencer quickly returned to his actual work.

“Chloe?”

“Hmm?”

“Who was that young man?”

“Spencer.” He threw another grape into his mouth. “He’s cool.”

“We will have to discuss this later.”

“Discuss what?” Chloe threw another grape at his mouth, intending to catch it as he had done before but he was shocked when it stopped in front of his face. Pinched tightly by the wrinkled fingers of Beatrice.

“A proper young lady does not catch food in her mouth like some circus seal.” Beatrice scowled as she smoothly placed the grape into her own mouth.

“Yes, grandmother.” he said flatly, “But…that was cool how you caught it. You gotta admit that.” He smiled excitedly. She didn’t answer, simply smiled and smoothed out her dress before she stood.

Glancing to the side Chloe saw Delilah and a young blonde teenager approaching. ‘She must have eyes in the back of her head!’ Chloe smiled and stood, following Beatrice to the pair. It felt strange to be impressed by an old rich socialite. The streets taught him not to count out old people, they learned to survive one way or another in a place that swallowed young people whole. But he never expected a queen to be that quick or precise with her hands.

“William!” Beatrice cheered, “Let me get a look at you. It has been too long. Where have you been hiding yourself?”

“Antwerp.” He gave her a cocky smile before kissing the old woman’s hand. “Mother and Father thought a change of scenery might be beneficial to my education. But of course, I simply could not miss one of your glorious functions.” Chloe groaned as he watched the boy smooze the old woman.

“It has certainly done wonders for your height, I swear you are a foot taller.” William adjusted his tie, his smile somehow becoming even more smug as he eyed up Chloe, “Oh, forgive me. Allow me to introduce you to my granddaughter, Chloe Pasini.”

Chloe **** a smile on his face as he curtsied for the boy. “A pleasure.” He repeated as he had all night long.

“Truly the pleasure is all mine.” William took Chloe’s hand and gave it a small kiss. “I was unaware you had a granddaughter as lovely as this.” ‘And I was unaware douchebags came in your size.’ Chloe smiled as he mentally insulted the six foot teen. “If I had, I would have been here much sooner.” ‘Is he flirting with me?!’

“Oh…I think you arrived soon enough.” Chloe slipped his hand free of William’s grasp, attempting to hide his disgust.

“Perhaps I have, if you would do me the honor of being my dance partner.”

“I can’t dance.”

Beatrice laughed, taking Chloe’s hand in hers once again, and once again crushing it in her vice-like grip. “Chloe, sometimes you are too humble.” She smiled at the young girl wincing in pain, “She is a wonderful dancer.” She said turning back to her friend. “A true natural to the craft.”

‘Sonofabitch!’ Chloe screamed in her mind but her smile barely wavered. ‘I think she broke my hand!’

“Never fear, Chloe.” William oozed. “I’ll take good care of you.”

Thankful that Beatrice released his hand he was happy enough to let William gently take his hand and lead him onto the dance floor, away from the unearthly strong old woman.

The string quartet sat upon the balcony overlooking the dancefloor at the far end of the ballroom underneath one of several two-storied archways a slow waltz played as Chloe reluctantly took William’s hand in his, allowing the boy to lead him around the dance floor. Chloe **** himself not to take the lead, something he had found much easier to do with Sheffield than he did with William as the pair danced under a large crystal chandelier that shone in its soft brilliance. Rather than dominating, it added to the overall light provided by the twin torch-like fixtures placed in each column. This paired with the navy blue carpeting and the large hardwood dancefloor, Chloe could understand why grandmother said so many wedding ceremonies and events had taken place here in the past. “I must say, your grandmother was right. You are a wonderful dancer.” Williams' comment pulled Chloe's attention back to his dance partner. Which was fine with him, he shouldn't allow himself to be distracted by glitz and glamour.

“Thanks.” He said coldly. ‘Grandmother was right’. Just what every girl longs to hear. Is this how rich people flirt?’

“Tell me, why is it I have never seen you before?”

“Probably the same reason I hadn’t seen you before. I just moved here with my pops.”

“Aren’t we lucky then.”

“Hmm. When are you going back to Antwerp?”

William smirked, “I am, thankfully, returning to my ancestral home as well.”

“Lucky us.”

“My grandmother tells me you are fond of horses.”

“A little, I guess.”

“Then you simply must come by my stable sometime.”

“You have a stable?” Chloe giggled as the image of William **** to sleep in a pile of hay and fed carrots popped into his mind.

“Oh yes. We have several horses. If you wish we can even go for a ride.”

“I’ll…have to ask my father.” He smiled, congratulating himself for coming up with a convincing enough lie. No way was he going to ask anyone to go ride with this dork.

The awkward conversation continued for the rest of that dance as William told Chloe all about his stables, his horses, and their lineages. Thankfully for Chloe the dance ended. “I was so enjoying our conversation. Perhaps another dance?”

“Have you ever worn high heels?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“If you’d like to switch shoes then we can, if not, I really need to rest my feet.”

William laughed and put his arm around Chloe’s waist as they walked out of the dance floor, “Perhaps another night.”

“Sure.”

As they were walking back Spencer stopped Chloe, carrying a tray of champagne, “Agent Rocky. Luftballoon has made contact.” Spencer nodded to Delilah and Beatrice who were speaking with an older gentleman.

“Good work, Bullwinkle.”

“I still think we need to talk about my codename.”

“Put it in a memo.” She giggled as they kept walking to the table. Spencer was the one bright spot of the evening, even if it was just playing a childish game with a kid.

“What was that about?”

“Did you know that was the first question you’ve asked about me?” Chloe raised her head a little higher and continued to the table. He didn’t really care that the rich boy didn’t ask anything about him, or her, but it was still annoying and honestly a terrible way to treat a girl you wanted more than a single dance with.

Returning to the table, Chloe refused to let William pull his chair out for him, grabbing it first and sitting quickly before he even had the chance to reach for it. ‘Kids these days are so slow.’ He smiled at Beatrice who gave him an empty smile in return. She had expected him to let William dote on him like some princess? Chloe’s smile faltered momentarily as he turned away from her. He **** a new smile on his face as Delilah spoke to him, “I trust my William was the perfect gentleman.”

“He was a fine gentleman.” Chloe **** a smile as he looked at the boy now sitting next to him. What even was a gentleman? Chloe had met rich assholes,working stiffs, honest crooks, and liars, but no gentleman.

“Having a young lady at one’s side helps.” Chloe jumped at the sound of Sheffield’s voice. ‘When did he get behind me?’ Sheffield nodded to the young girl before turning to Beatrice. “Madam, they are nearly ready for your speech.”

“Ah, excellent.”

“You’re giving a speech?” Chloe asked, hiding his impatience for dinner.

“I give one every year.” She somehow stood a little straighter and her smile became full for a moment.

“So you pretty much have it memorized, right?”

“This year I decided to make one or two additions.”

“...Delightful.” Chloe groaned silently as Beatrice walked away with Sheffield in tow.

“Oh it is.” Delilah said completely missing or ignoring Chloe’s sarcasm. “Your grandmother is a wonderful orator.”

“A what now?”

“Nevermind, dear.” She cleared her throat, “Did William tell you about his stable?”

“He did indeed.” Chloe smirked again at the image he had conjured up earlier.

“Splendid, your grandmother and I were talking about how you simply must come to the manor some time.”

“Of course.” Chloe groaned. Of course it wasn’t just William’s idea. The old bat had been working his grandmother from the same angle. She was clever, but he wasn’t nearly as dumb as Chloe was supposed to be, “I will have to ask father though.” He lied.

“Oh no trouble. With your grandmother’s permission it is already a done deal.”

“What?” Chloe’s face fell.

The music slowly ended and the lights dimmed, leaving a singular spotlight on the small stage. A woman in a purple sheath dress walked behind a glass lectern with a microphone. “Good evening distinguished ladies and gentlemen,” The woman began, “I see a lot of familiar faces on the dance floor this evening. Mr.Valentine I am glad to see your hip has improved. It is a shame we can’t say the same about your dancing.” The crowd chuckled briefly before the woman continued. “We are lucky to be able to gather here every year in the warm and inviting home of our wonderful speaker with our friends, both new and old. When I was younger I hated coming to these events. It was a bunch of old people giving boring speeches that took up too much time and made dinner late.” Delilah, along with many of the older rich men and women looked around, their faces contorted in either anger or confusion. ‘Hah. I like this chick.’ Chloe thought with a smile. “But later, I realized how important these speeches were. We’re not simply a bunch of rich people writing checks for a tax write off,” –Chloe scoffed, earning him a small smirk from William– “we are a community coming together to do what we can to help those less fortunate than we. So, it is with that, that I thank everyone who came this evening and introduce our first speaker this evening; The wonderful and sweet, Beatrice Pasini.” The crowd politely applauded as Beatrice made her way to the podium giving the woman the briefest of hugs and kissed the air beside her face.

“First?!” Chloe groaned under the echoing applause and sat his chin in his hands. ‘I’m still so fucking hungry.’

“Good evening, and thank you for such a kind introduction Ms.Belmonte.” Beatrice began, “And, as I would just like to thank you all once again for coming. These events have been a tradition in my family for nearing a hundred years now. My grandfather began the tradition one day after a particularly cold Easter service. As he made his way to his recently built home he saw the men, women, and children who had been affected by the great depression. Children would swarm his car whenever he was stopped, anyone back then who could afford a car because anyone during that time who could still afford such a luxury could certainly spare a few coins. We’re not sure what had moved him so that particular day, perhaps it was the word of God running through his mind, the plight of hungry children, or maybe he was tired of cleaning their handprints off of his windows.” The crowd chuckled once again. “But, what we do know is what he decided to do that following Sunday and the next year before Easter and every year after. Ms.Belmonte was right about a few things. These speeches are always too long.” The crowd chuckled, “With that in mind I will ask the servers to start passing out the first course.” As if waiting for their cues, several men and women wearing white button suit jackets descended on the crowd out of the darkness carrying trays of soups. “We are very lucky, in more ways than maybe even we realize. Certainly…more than I thought possible until recently.” Chloe picked his head up slightly, and watched Beatrice for the first time. She looked much less imposing standing on the stage under the hot spotlight. “My grandfather left a tradition for his four children. My father took that tradition and passed it down to me and my sister who sadly is no longer here to help carry this tradition onward. But…recently I had come to realize what my father, and his brothers and sister and their father left behind wasn’t just a tradition, but a legacy. And not just this charity event.” She paused for a moment, disgusing her regathering her composure with movement of turning over the copy of her speech.

As she did, Spencer stopped at Chloe’s table carrying four bowls and a pot of some thick red soup Chloe guessed was some variation of tomato soup. “Good evening.” He said politely to the table but gave a small wink to Chloe who simply smiled back.

“The legacy they left behind, is one we all leave behind.” Beatrice continued as Spencer ladled out the soup into the bowls he passed out one by one, starting with Chloe.

Chloe immediately picked up his spoon and scooped up a spoonful into his mouth without blowing on it or waiting for it to cool. “OW! Hot.” He hissed.

“I would’ve warned you if you gave me the chance, Rock.”

Chloe stuck his tongue out at the boy, immediately regretting moving his singed tongue at all. “It’s okay, have some ice water.” William whispered, passing the girl his glass and placing one hand over hers. Spencer frowned but continued working. When he came back around to Chloe to serve William he stood between them, placing the bowl in front of him. In the dark no one saw what happened but everyone heard William howl in pain as hot soup was poured onto his hand and leg. The speech stopped immediately as William jumped up, shoving Spencer with his shoulder as he did. Spencer, unprepared and surprised, fell into the serving tray and its stand, knocking it to the ground with a loud crash. William swore loudly at the clutzy, clumsy, waiter. “What on earth did you do that for?!” He yelled, desperately trying to clean the burning red liquid off of himself.

“I didn-”

“What is wrong with you?!” Delilah yelled, standing up as two waiters and Chloe rushed to help Spencer. “How dare you attack my grandson! Someone should call the police.”

“No!” Chloe shouted as he helped the boy stand. “It was an accident!”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Then what do you call this?!” William gestured to the still burning stains on his clothes.

“You did that, man!” he yelled back.

“The very idea!” Delilah shouted. “You think my grandson is some madman?!”

“I think he’s an idiot!”

Delilah gasped. “Spencer,” Chloe shouted, “shut up!” Chloe didn’t believe Spencer had done it, and William doing it made no sense, but the one thing he did believe is when someone starts screaming about cops, that's when it’s time to keep your mouth shut.

“You can’t seriousl-”

“What in the hell is going on here?” The Chef shouted as he stormed out of the kitchen.

“Your busboy attacked me!”

“That’s a lie!”

“Spen-”

“You incompetent fool!” The chef screamed, “Get the hell out of here. You’re fired!” Spencer’s face fell as the chef turned to apologize to Delilah.

“Fine! Rich assholes.” Spencer threw the stained white suit jacket at the chef and stormed out through the crowd.

A cold hand gripped his heart that he hid from his face well enough, but his hurried feet showed he was concerned over something as he followed Spencer. Chloe had been lucky thus far and never had to spend a night in jail but he also never had his face plastered on television for all the world to see. Even if he slipped through the cracks and managed to get out of California, there was still a warrant out for him and speaking to any cops about something even as mundane as spilled soup was not something he wanted to risk.

Chloe raced out of the ballroom, he didn't have his bag with him but he could grab a doll, or a dusty old book, maybe a necklace, and work it out later. Before he could step onto the stairs a strong hand grabbed his wrist and yanked him into the nearby solarium, pulling him into the stranger's body. Before his eyes could adjust to the darkness Chloe managed to push himself away ripping whatever shirt his mysterious attacker wore and punched whoever it was in the face. “Ow!” Spencer hissed quietly. Quickly locking the door. “What the hell, Rocky?”

“What the hell are you doing grabbing me?”

“I wanted…”

“What?”

Spencer rubbed his stomach, “I wanted to explain.”

“To me or the cops?!” Chloe hissed, grabbing his own wrist. He was never a fighter and knew his punch had probably hurt him more than it had Spencer.

“You…don’t think I actually did that do you?” Spencer mistook the panic in her voice for anger.

“I don’t know. Someone’s lying and either way it doesn’t matter. You sticking around here isn’t smart.”

“I know…I just…I wanted you to know.”

“Why?”

“I liked hanging out with you.”

“So did I. But you really should leave.” For a moment he saw Spencer’s face fall and felt a twinge of guilt, “Rich people call the cops over the littlest things.“

You should get out of here while the getting’s good.”

Spencer smiled. “I almost forgot.”

“Forgot what?” Chloe crossed his arms.

“You’re not like those snobby prep school girls in there.”

“I’m way different.” For the first time Chloe noticed the tattoo that peeked behind the rip in his white sleeved button down shirt.

Spencer smiled, the pretty rich girl had flirted with him all night, and she was clearly checking him out now, even with all the commotion going on. She was right, he should leave, rich people were dicks, and he didn’t want any more trouble with the law than he had in the past, but…in the glass room, underneath the sparkling stars, he didn’t want to leave her, not until he was sure he could see her again. He stepped inside of her personal space before she realized he had done so. “I can tell. You are…so much more than they are.”

“Huh, no. I’m not-what?” Spencer cut her off, laughing deeply. Chloe’s face burned with embarrassment. He recognized that look on Spencer’s face, he wore it many times in the past when he was certain a girl was checking him out. No, he had recognized the tattoo. Growing up like he did you learn real quick what people you did and did not fuck with, and the Jackals were one of them. They were easily identified by the laughing jackal skull tattoos they wore. But Chloe certainly couldn’t tell this kid he recognized his tattoo. “I like your tattoo…?” He tried pitifully, assured he only looked like a teenage girl with a crush. Which was only slightly better than the truth.

Spencer looked at his ripped sleeve and scratched his face, “Oh yeah.” He looked at her with new determination, “Never drink Pasqal in Philly.”

Chloe nodded, adding the random advice to the rolodex of tidbits people had told him over the years, both useful and not, “You really should go.”

“I wanna see you again.”

“What?”

“I think we could have fun.”

“Not if you’re in prison.” Chloe shook his head. He couldn’t help but smile at the boy in the moonlight. He was an idiot, but he was shooting his shot in a way he imagined any other girl would find thrilling.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’re being stupid.”

“I think you want to go out with me.” Spencer said, with a smirk looking into Chloe’s eyes.

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re still here.” Spencer grabbed Chloe’s chin gently enough not to hurt, but firm enough to keep her attention. “How about Friday?” he said softly. Chloe swallowed hard, his hand reaching back for the knob and slowly unlocking it, was he about to kiss him? He should kick him in the crotch and make a break for it, but–

“Chloe?” Sheffield called off in the distance.

“You should g-”

“Chloe?” The door opened and Sheffield found Chloe, inches away from kissing the ruffian. His face flashed with anger before it returned to its usual stoicism. “Your grandmother is looking for you.”

“What do you say?” Spencer asked quietly, a cocky smile on his face.

“Chloe.” Sheffield said sharply.

“Okay!” Chloe turned to Sheffield. “I’m comin’!”

“Great!” Spencer cheered, walking backwards to the door.

“What?!” Chloe shouted.

“I suggest you leave, unless you wish to speak to the police.”

“What?” Chloe spun, nearly falling on his heels, to face Sheffield.

“Don’t worry pops. , I’m headed out. For now.” He winked at Chloe as he rushed out of the glass door.

“No wait, I didn-” his cries were drowned out by the sound of Spencer’s motorcycle roaring to life. “Shit.” Chloe whispered, watching the idiot drive away.

“Language, Miss.” Chloe turned to face the sharp dressed butler with a glare. “Is something the matter, Miss?”

“You just have, like, the worst timing ever.” He sighed, pushing past the older man and stormed up the stairs into his room.

Arriving back at their table, Chloe sat with a frown next to his grandmother. “Is anything the matter, dear?”

“I’m fine. I just needed some air. Where’s William and your friend?” He asked, noticing the two had left, but really just hoping to change the subject.

“Delilah wanted to make sure no permanent damage had been done to William.” She looked down at her delicate granddaughter’s hand and saw the light bruising already forming from her ill-executed punch. “Should I have the same worry?” Beatrice kept the anger and worry out of her voice as she managed to do with any strong emotion over the years. It was improper for a young lady to be violent, that was for the men, still, she had to fend off a boy or two when she was younger and recognized the cause.

“Huh?” Beatrice frowned and lifted Chloe’s hand by way of explanation, “Oh. Spencer startled me outside and kinda…punched him.”

“Spencer?”

“The guy who accidentally spilled the soup on William.”

Beatrice nodded. “Ah, well. Accident or no, I am sure he will be dealt with soon enough.”

“You mean the cops?”

The poor girl sounded so fearful, she had no doubt ever had to deal with the police. “Yes. The police are on their way, and they will deal with him as they are trained to do with criminals.”

“He’s not really a criminal, grandmother.” She said softly.

“**** is a crime, dear.”

“He said he didn’t do it, what if it was an accident?”

“Then he should apologize.” Beatrice sipped at her wine.

“So because he didn’t apologize he’s going to jail?” Beatrice sat her glass down and looked at her granddaughter as she continued, “I’m just saying…I don’t think he’s a bad guy. Can’t we do something for him?”

Beatrice let a harsh breath through her nose, her granddaughter acted tough, no doubt from growing up in public schools and in poverty like she had, but she still had a good heart, even if her mind was naive to the reality of the world. Beatrice knew she should prepare her for the world, help make her strong, but the pleading eyes so full of empathy for the poor boy tugged on her heart strings. “I will speak with Delilah when we see her next.”

“Thank you.” Chloe smiled.

Chloe wasn’t prepared for what happened next; Beatrice took her arm and put it around his shoulder, pulling him into a hug. When he was younger, and still wished for a family, he imagined his grandmother smelled like fresh baked cookies and sweet lavender flowers. She would have a warmth that simply radiated through her. No matter how cold the winters, a hug from her would warm him deep inside. Beatrice smelled of some french perfume. “There you are!” Mark all but shouted as he approached the table.

The pair broke their hug and turned to face Mark who quickly took a seat beside Chloe. The woman in the tight dress followed closely behind him. “Yeah, I was uh-”

“Sheffield told me you were with that boy. Did you s-did he do anything? Are w-Are you okay?” Mark asked nervously. He hated speaking in code but he needed to know what, if, anything that boy found out or knew.

“No. He just wanted to explain, it was an accident before he left.”

“Good.” Mark put a hand on Chloe’s shoulder, giving it a small squeeze, hoping to communicate how serious he was, “You really shouldn’t be around g-boys like that.”

“He’s harmless.” Chloe waved him off. He knew what he was doing, he certainly knew more than Mark who’s closest experience to the criminal element was Chloe.

“What about the police?” Mark asked, “Do you want to talk to them or…would you rather be in your room.”

“Can I just go to my room?”

“Of course.” Zoe spoke softly as she lowered herself to be at eye level to Chloe in his seat. “You don’t have to speak to anyone if you don’t want to. And since you’re not eighteen your father would need to be present anyway.”

“Good. I’d rather not.”

Zoe smiled, she had briefly spoken to the waiter before and he seemed like a nice kid, maybe a little rough around the edges but nothing a good environment wouldn’t help. She knew Delilah, she looked down on “the poor”, as she called everyone who didn’t have old school money, she would seek out a way to punish the boy for what was more than likely not his fault. “Did he say anything to you that we should tell them? Anything that might help your friend?”

“Yeah…he didn’t do it. I think it may have just been an accident.” Chloe wasn’t sure how much he believed that, but the police couldn’t do much over spilled soup. But then, what he knew of rich people meant they could and possibly would find something else to blame him for, and if not they would just make it up if they felt vindictive enough. But the less incentive the police had to investigate the better for everyone.

“Okay.” She nodded, “When the police arrive we’ll let them know and you can just…be somewhere else. Okay?” Zoe smiled warmly. Chloe smiled back, for a moment he wondered what Zoe wanted to get out of all of this until he saw the way she looked back at Mark.

All during dinner he took minimal bites despite his hunger. Every second the police took to arrive the more his stomach twisted in knots and his brain told him to run. But true to her word, Zoe told Chloe when they had arrived and walked him to his room. The police had finished taking statements from everyone and left a few hours later. By that time when Zoe went to check on her she found the beautiful teenager had fallen asleep on top of her covers, clutching a doll to her chest.

Sometime after midnight, Chloe snuck into the kitchen. His corset discarded along with his overly girly dress and heels. Of course, his pajamas still screamed “girl!”. The top and bottoms were both adorned with pink roses. Their sleeves ending just at his elbow and his pants legs ended just below his knees.

Chloe jumped out of his skin with a sharp and quick yell when he saw Sheffield sitting at the small kitchen island with an empty plate and a small cup of tea, reading something off of a tablet. “Apologies, Miss. I did not intend to give you a start.”

“You gave me a heart attack is what you did.” He gasped, grabbing at his chest, suddenly remembering he wasn’t wearing his falsies and did his best to cover his lack of chest with both arms, resulting in an awkward arm crossing.

“Apologies for that as well, Miss.”

“Ar-are you gonna be lo-I mean, what are you doing down here?”

“Presumably the same reason you are.” He raised up his small empty plate, “We cannot let good turkey go to waste can we?”

“Yeah.” Chloe smiled, his arms relaxing for a moment before remembering why they were there in the first place. “So…I’m gonna get some…and go to my room.”

“Allow me, Miss.”

“It’s fine. It’s just a sandwich.”

“Nonsense. I would be a poor butler indeed if I did not help feed my charge.” Sheffield stood, walking briskly to the deep freeze. “Please, sit.” Chloe grumbled as he sat at the island, while Sheffield made him a much more complicated version of a turkey sandwich than he was going to prepare. He sniffed at the teacup, it smelled strongly of jasmine. “If you would like, I can also prepare you a cup.”

“I don’t know, I’m not much of a tea drinker.”

“Would you like to try some?” He asked, turning around.

Chloe dropped the cup, quickly covering his chest again. “Fu-” Chloe started as the cup broke against the hardwood island.

“It is fine, Miss.” Sheffield said softly, quickly grabbing hand towels and cleaning the mess while the turkey warmed in the saucepan.

“I’m usually not such a butterfingers.” he groaned, helping pick up the broken pieces off of the floor.

“I understand, Miss.”

“Maybe it’s that time of the month or something.” Chloe chuckled nervously.

Sheffield stared at her for a moment before taking the broken pieces of porcelain. “Quite.”

“I guess that’s not very ladylike, huh.” He yawned, painfully tired, but painfully hungry.

“You’re new to the concept. It will take time but you will adjust.”

“Yeah…wait, huh?”

Sheffield turned around, now holding a tea kettle in one hand and a similar cup to the one Chloe had just broken. “I suspect you have not been a lady for very long.”

“I-I’ve always been a girl. What are you talking about?!”

Sheffield’s face stiffened for a moment before he poured the tea into the cup, “Yes you have. I meant no offense, Miss. Just that there is a difference in being a girl, and being a lady. A lady has to have much more refinement and confidence than the average girl.”

“True, I guess.” Chloe shrugged, taking the offered cup with both hands, holding it close to his chest.

Sheffield smiled for a moment before turning back to the cooking turkey, “If I may speak freely, Miss.”

“Uh, sure.”

“I’ve noticed you are not very close with your father.” He flipped the turkey before picking up slices of bread and lettuce.

“No. I mostly lived with mom until she died a few years ago.”

“Yes. And, I have a suspicion you two had a falling out even more recently than that. I also suspect it is why he is having trouble accepting you as his daughter.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I heard him call you by another name.”

“Huh, oh, no that was..kind of like a nickname.”

“Chloe.” Sheffield faced her once again, a plate filled with a large turkey club sitting beautifully on top, “You need not worry.” He sat the plate in front of the girl. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“I don’t know what you mean. I don’t have any secrets. Wow, this sandwich looks great.” Chloe quickly took a bite out of the sandwich, hoping he would drop the subject as it was impolite to have a conversation while someone had their mouthful. Or that’s what Grandmother kept saying all night.

“I understand why you would not wish for Madam to find out.” He paused, trying to find the nicest way to put his words, “I wish I could assure you that she would not be upset.” Chloe turned his head away, trying to remember the layout of the house and the quickest way to the keys and then the cars in the garage. “But, I am not like her.” Chloe stopped chewing and eyed the man with confusion. “I actually wish to help you.”

“Yodo?” Chloe asked through a mouthful of turkey.

“Of course.” He sat up a little straighter, “I’ve lived a much different life than she has, or one she is even aware of, most people would not accept my past either. So I must act as expected as well.”

He swallowed the large piece of turkey, “What’s that got to do with me?”

“I only wish to help you succeed at your goal.”

“Really?” Jared had said that rich people treated their employees like shit, it’s why ‘the butler did it’ was such a cliche. Maybe Sheff was tired of being treated like shit and underpaid for the pleasure…he could definitely cut him in if he was willing to help him. For a smaller percentage of course.

“Of course. But…if I am to help you, then you must trust me and know anything I tell you is for your benefit. Even if it does not feel like it at times.”

For some reason he thought of Jared. “Okay.”

“Will you allow me to assist you on your journey?”

“If you promise not to tell anyone my secret. I don’t see why not.”

“Of course, Miss.”

As eager as Chloe was to do this score on his own he had to admit it felt good to not be alone, and once again have someone watching his back. Chloe offered a hand to Sheffield.

Sheffield looked at the small hand and smiled. “This went much better than I had hoped.” He shook her hand. Gently correcting her on how to shake hands as a lady. From his research he learned that while transitioning was a deeply personal thing, having a support system would give her much better odds of being safe mentally and physically. He disdained lying to Beatrice, but he knew she was not ready to accept her granddaughter was transgender. Perhaps one day, but certainly not tonight. By that time she would be the proper lady that she and her grandmother both wanted for her.

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