The Golden Offer

Carol Ferris was the dictionary definition of the word 'posh.'

Even in the rain with mud splattering all around, she sat under the patio umbrella with a look that seemed unbothered.

And guess how surprised I was to see her guards standing to her side –preventing the rain from getting to her with the wind.

She wore a classy black dress which was dangerously short with the only possible protection being the black translucent leggings. Her boots were long –almost reaching her knees and to top it all off, she wore a long coat, while her purse hung on the corner of the chair. 

Excluding the gold chained strap of her purse, everything else that she had on her was black.

Which was comical considering I usually go with all black, yet today I chose to come in the most casual clothings imaginable.

Sage green joggers –I know it's not the best choice for pants, but I had no choice– an oversized gray hoodie over my equally gray Tee and white crocs.

White crocs on a rainy day? Sounds funny right?

But it isn't my fault that it started pouring in the middle of winter. Blame global warming, not me.

But it was a horrible experience to have the crocs splash dirt on my pants. The squelch wasn't a sensation I wanted to feel and I definitely wasn't planning on ruining my comfy joggers.

So, I had to enchant it to be dirt-proof and so the moment dirt landed on it, it slipped off my joggers like water on a lily pad.

And with that, I was pretty much set to even jump on the puddles without worry.

Sadly, I didn't have time for that as there was a lady waiting for me.

"Can't say that either of us are dressed according to the weather," I stood just a feet away from the heiress with my hands inside my pockets.

"Weather's fault, there wasn't any news about it raining today either," She said, a tiny smile appearing on her face, "But thankfully both of us seem fine despite it."

If I am being very honest, that is not a worry she needs to have. Her guards seem so devoted to her that they would throw themselves over a puddle just to let her walk over them.

"Can't argue with that logic," I shrugged before pulling the empty chair towards me, "Were you waiting for long?"

"Around five minutes," She looked at the server, "Can I get a Mexican coffee?"

The waiter rushed towards us, possibly seeing the 'richness' ooze out of Carol.

"What would you like?" She asked, "Mexican coffee is great on a rainy day."

And it was, but I was in the mood for some tea.

"I would prefer a cup of ginger tea," I said, "My throats been a little hoarse since morning."

The waiter looked at us, "Anything else that you would like?"

Both of us shook our heads, "That would do."

That was cue for him to leave as Carol had reasons other than a cup of coffee to meet me.

"So, what's up with the sudden call?" I asked, curious about her reasons, "You did say something about a job."

I wasn't actively searching for a job and I wasn't going to take it either if it turns out to be too annoying.

There were already a lot of things going on at the moment, that another worry was not something that I was willing to deal with.

She sighed, "Straight to the point, huh?" She looked at me, "But it's not like I have much time to waste."

At this point, I was invested in the story. I was curious what made her call me up so urgently.

But when she decided to answer, it was way off my original guess.

"My father is dying."

It was worse than what I expected.

"Pardon?" I wasn't sure what to say at this point, the man I met a few days ago that looked like he could go to war –was dying?

"He does not show it on his face," She said, pain visible on her face that she was trying her best to hide.

She bit her lips, "The doctor called me to say that his health was failing."

"Can he… not be treated?" There were very selective health issues that had no cure and I am finding it difficult to imagine a man like Carl is suffering from such things.

"He nevers shows it on his face," She looked down, "But there is a lot of pain that he buries in his heart, regrets regarding my grandfather that is eating him alive."

"I am sorry," I said, unsure if there was anything that could be done.

"But my father has another worry," She frowned, "That is the Ferris Aircrafts."

"I am the one that would be inheriting it and he is worried that I will be targeted because of this," She explained, "Most of the people that are supporting us are doing so in the hopes of profit. And once they hears about my father, they won't leave the chance to target me in the hopes of obtaining shares and authority over the Ferris Aircrafts."

I had a hint of what she might have been hoping for from me, but I still wanted to hear it from her.

"So, where do I come in?" I asked, curious about her plans.

"When I inherit the business, I will need backup. Not just political but people that are skilled at defending me and my business." She frowned, "I am certain that I will be a target of assassination the moment I become the owner of the business."

"That is not a job where you ask a single person for help, you know that." I said, aware of the risks of the mission.

"I do, but for now I need at least one person that is capable of dealing with such things," She said, "Of course, I will have to expand that force but I have to start somewhere."

"And that's why you reached out to me?" I asked, "You know that it is dangerous to reveal so much to a guy that you met not long ago, right?"

"I do," She acknowledged, "I am also aware that you are a guy that mostly cares about money."

She wasn't wrong.

"But you are not someone without morals either,"

Again, she wasn't wrong.

I was greedy, selfish and I can be a dick to people. But I also had my morals, my dos and don'ts.

Not breaking someone's trust first was one of those don'ts.

However, if they did something that could harm me or think of making profit at my expense –I wouldn't think twice before ruining them.

Penguin hadn't given me a reason to go against him yet. So far we have been working on missions without putting the other at harm.

He had money, connections and missions.

I had power, ability and ideas –which was why we were working together.

Which also makes me wonder–

"What about Oswald?" I asked, curious since Penguin and her father were 'friends.'

"He doesn't know," She answered honestly, "Oswald and my father have worked together for a while, but even my father knows that the only reason Oswald had been working with him was to gain access to our airlines."

I was well aware of that. Penguin wanted it to find a route and means to smuggle easily.

"And I know that he is more than capable of taking over Ferris Aircrafts after my father," She frowned, "I do not mind opening routes for him or allowing him to trade through the use of our aircrafts. However, his greed knows no bounds. He has made attempts to take over the company by means that I cannot even tell you here."

I could see the disgust in her eyes and knowing Penguin, he was indeed the type to backstab you.

The reason he hasn't done so with me is because he has no reason to do so –at least not yet.

But that doesn't speak of the future.

"I see," I pushed back the chair, "But I hope you know that I do not exactly work for free, considering we are not what one would call friends."

"Of course, I know that." She said, "That is why I have a proposal."

A proposal, that's interesting.

"If you are willing to keep me safe and make sure that I don't fall prey to assassination attempts," She said, "It doesn't matter if you do it yourself or through someone –just keep me away from harm. And…"

I raised an eyebrow, "And?"

"And I will give you exactly the same thing that my father promised Oswald."

What?

"I will provide you with my aircrafts for trades that you make and for any mission that you need them for," She said, "Given you cannot do anything that will shut down the business. But if it is a minor legal issue, I can deal with it."

This wasn't just a proposal.

"Unless you do something that even money and connections cannot save," She said, "I am willing to help you."

This was me striking gold.

"Would Oswald like that?" I asked, already aware of the answer.

"He wouldn't," She said, "But this deal is not for now, but for later." She showed a sad smile, "He has around six to seven months at best according to the doctor."

I know it was the golden opportunity for me, but I also couldn't help but feel bad for her. I knew how it felt to lose people that you cared about.

I carefully placed my hand over hers, "You'll make it through."

She will.

"Does that…" Her eyes widened.

"Yeah," I said, "I can agree to the deal."

After all, Ferris was a bigger name than most would believe.

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