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*~*~**~*~*
Bam! Bam!
‘Let me in!’
Bam! Bam!
‘Let me in, blast you!’
The door opened, and I nearly fell into Mr Ambrose’s office. His arms shot out to catch me before I hit the floor, and he pulled me upright.
‘Mr Linton! What is the matter?’
‘I need an advance on my salary!’
He blinked. ‘Pardon?’
‘I need money! Right now! Please!’
His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. ‘My ears must be deceiving me, Mr Linton. I could have sworn you just demanded money. From me.’
‘Yes!’
‘After already making me spend an enormous sum today.’
‘Yes, yes! I need the money now! Please!’ I sank to my knees in front of him. To hell with pride and feminism! This was an emergency! ‘Right now! It’s a life and death matter. Please, I’m, begging you!’
Ice flashed in his eyes, and he grabbed my hands. ‘What is it? Has someone threatened you? Has someone dared to lay a hand on—’
‘No! No, nothing like that.’
‘Then what is it? What do you need the money for?’
I cleared my throat. This part I wasn’t eager to confess. ‘I need it for a dress!’
There was a long moment of silence.
Then another.
And another.
‘You have barged into my office,’ Mr Ambrose said, coolly, ‘nearly broken down my door, gotten on your knees and begged me for help in a life and death situation, and now you tell me you want money for the latest Parisian ladies’ fashion?’
‘Yes! Yes, please, I’m desperate!’
He cocked his head.
‘Well, well, Mr Linton…Paris has managed to do in a few days what I have been trying for years now: to turn you into a normal woman.’
I would have dearly liked to kick his shin right then and there, but unfortunately you can’t do that sort of thing while kneeling on the ground pleading for help. So I punched him in the leg instead.
‘Be serious!’
‘I am absolutely serious. I am even slightly impressed. If I had known Paris would have such a positive effect on you, I would have brought you here sooner.’
I punched his leg again.
‘I haven’t suddenly become fashion-crazy! I need the dress as a disguise, you bloody son of a bachelor! I need a cover!’
