What Can You Not Buy With Money?

Christmas. Beautiful, happy, peaceful Christmas. Just saying the word makes me think of cold weather, pine trees, peppermints, gold, jewels, presents, music, dancing… I never really spent that holiday for the purpose of Jesus’ birth, since religion was never something that I experienced in my home.

I was at work, sitting at my desk while struggling to multitask with the video game software that Burgess had assigned to me along with organizing the upcoming events for this late December.

You see, Burgess is a very active member of the upper class community. And he is invited to an average of forty two parties, dinners, and other celebrations during the Winter Holiday. Of course, he only chooses two out of the enormous pile of letters and he was far too busy to look through the invites himself. But he still expected me to . So he is relying upon his personal assistant to use her discretion in deciding what last invitation to RSVP.

Along with the parties that he would attend, Burgess threw one as well. And I was given the duty to set it up. That’s right, I was also party coordinator.

Not that I’m complaining.

Also, a new laptop that Burgess kindly gave me for the use of Burgess Incorporated Only was propped at the edge of the table. The only browser opened was to a freshly opened email from Pierre.

Dearest Rose Mary,

I hope that you and Burgess will attend the Slater residence for her Christmas celebration this upcoming weekend. I’m sure you’ve received the invitation by now and the Madame is over my shoulder as we speak, making sure I mention this in this message.

Now that she has gone, I will continue with a serious note. It seems that we’ve finally found traces of Mademoiselle Terra Slater, for she’s finally used her credit cards for a purchase in Canada. We are unsure if it was indeed Terra who used the card, but it seems to have taken a fraction of the stress off of her mother. I’m asking you for a favor.

Madame Slater needs to keep her mind off of her missing daughter. Though it sounds neglectful of me to say this, Terra Slater is—I’m sure—alive and well. This isn’t the first time she’s disappeared. But my employer continues to fret.

If you could convince Charles Walker to accompany you and Ben to France, it may be able to stir enough drama to help Madame enjoy herself. She hasn’t eaten or slept in days. And she always had a soft heart for Charles and Benjamin.

I am sorry to ask this of you, my sweet Rose Mary. But if you do this for me, I swear on my blood that I’ll be forever in your debt.

With Love Forever,

Pierre du Albert Bonaparte

Burgess had already mentioned that there were two mandatory parties that he attended every year, specifically to maintain economic affairs. The first was to Madame Slater’s Christmas Weekend. The second was to Jonathan Bohr’s Christmas Dance.

I didn’t understand why Burgess kept in contact with Bohr, but I begrudgingly called Lila Maddock to negotiate. I just hoped she didn’t take our RSVP and throw it in the garbage disposal.

And I was gripping a pen tightly in my hand as I tried to think of any possibility of considering Pierre’s request. The end result would have been this: Burgess would murder me, and Walker would help bury me.

Trying to not think of the dilemma, I turned to a notebook that was a simple list for the New Year’s Party that Burgess was throwing at his mansion. I only had a little less than four weeks to set up the event, and invitations were already sent. On the guest list, I noticed that the only people who were invited were—young. They were as young as sixteen all the way to twenty five. Madame Slater and Pierre, even, were not on that list. Bohr and Lila were.

Struggling to think of a way to even start this, the first thing that came into my head was: Impossible.

“Mary,” Burgess opened the door and gestured for me into his office. His reading glasses were propped on the bridge of his nose perfectly.

“Yes sir,” I felt tired but relieved that he was breaking me away.

Burgess took a seat on a couch and looked up. “You’ve already called Slater and Bohr?”

I nodded slowly, looking at him dazed and patient.

“And what about the third party?”

I shook my head.

He nodded. “What about for New Year’s?”

“With all due respect, sir,” I tried to think of the gentlist way of putting it, “I don’t understand what you’re expecting. I don’t even know how to organize a business meeting.”

Burgess blinked. “This isn’t for business.”

“All right, then what type of theme could you give me to help me?” I rubbed a temple and looked at him with a sigh.

“A simple house party,” Burgess begrudgingly answered.

I had a blank expression on my face. “I still don’t understand.”

“What’s to understand? I’m talking about just a huge blow out,” Burgess snapped and waved his hand in frustration. “I’m talking about—the average American New Year's party. You've been to one, right?”

I could feel the corner of my mouth twitch and I flinched as my lungs started to ache from the need to explode into giggles. “You… want to throw a house party…” and the way he glared at me made me realize something. “You’re serious.”

“When am I not?” Burgess challenged. “So now you get it.”

“Wait—so what makes you think I know how to set one up?”

“Come on, you’ve went to public high school. You’re a girl from the lower—I mean middle—class of society. You’ve never gone to one?”

“I’ve only been to one, and it’s not that great. Everyone smells like beer, people keep pushing into you, and it’s just…” my words wandered off. “Wait, what about you? You’ve been to college, haven’t you gone to frats?”

“I’m too busy to organize it, it's your job. And feel free to invite some of your friends and run some ideas by me.” He muttered sardonically as he looked away.

I wrinkled my eyebrow with disbelief. I repeated, “You’re serious.”

“Damn right. So, any ideas?” He kept his posture tall and his face with that superior pout, but there was an earnest excitement ebbing at his voice.

“All right,” I leaned forward and placed my notebook on the coffee table to begin writing. “First thing’s first. Music. Do you have a stereo?”

“Of course I do,” Burgess shrugged it off. “But I’ll hire a DJ.”

My lips tightened and I rolled my eyes back to my paper to take notes. “Fine. And… food. I could call a pizza parlor.”

“I’ll hire a few caterers. Something five star,” Burgess sniffed. “No need to let the guests eat cheap fast food." He added, "How about be a little more creative?”

I shot him a look. “Look, I’m trying. But I’m trying to think of a way of throwing a party without spending a lot of money.”

“Don’t. Whatever you think of, I’ll pay,” Burgess smiled at me with a smarting glance. He was obviously proud that he could afford such extravagance.

“You know, I’m,” I closed up everything and stood up, “just trying to do my assigned job and help you. I’ll gladly take phone calls, organize your schedule, and do anything else that you need with assisting that involves the company. But if whatever I’m trying to do isn’t effective and it involves planning a party not related to business, then why don’t you spend your copious amounts of money on a professional planner?”

“Fine, I’ll lay off, but let’s try to think of a reasonable compromise.” Burgess surrendered and took off his glasses to fiddle around with. He kept an amused spark in his eye and his lips curved in satisfaction. He enjoyed stirring my annoyance. “So food. Any suggestions.”

It was a random thought that made me think that I was becoming a conniving and evil person. But my mind was on finding a way to have Walker and Burgess attend the party at Slater’s, and I remembered that Walker was mentioning that the Neo Sushi Club had been receiving bad business. Oh, how manipulative I had become.

“Sushi,” I murmured and gave Burgess a hopeful look. “Walker works at a sushi restaurant, and they haven’t been doing so well lately.”

“Then forget it.” Burgess folded his arms. “I don’t like Walker, and if the quality of the food doesn’t pass in reputation and quality, then I won’t waste my time with them.”

“Give it a try at least? How about we have lunch together?” I gave him a smile that felt uneasy and fake, as though my teeth were indeed pearly whites—only made of paste.

Burgess’ eyes narrowed with suspicion like lasers, probing my face. “What are you planning?”

My weakening smile broke into a serious frown. “I need a favor.”

“What?” He implored and we shared in a staring match.

“I need Walker to come with us to Madame Slater’s for Christmas.”

“Never. You’re lucky I don’t fire you for suggesting it.” His full lips were in a snarl and he folded his arms defensively.

“Please,” I stubbornly added, “Madame Slater needs a distraction from Terra’s disappearance. Pierre asked me to help.”

“No,” Burgess snapped.

I let out a breath and nodded silently in surrender.

“Unless,” Burgess paused to think and I looked at him attentively.

“What?” I impatiently sat back down.

“First, you can’t just choose to ignore me to have a fun time at France with Walker. This is all for foreign affairs, so you need to stay by my side.”

“I can’t talk to Walker at all?”

“Oh no,” Burgess shook his head with a mocked denying frown. “But you can’t neglect your job.”

“Of course,” I nodded. “What else?”

“We have our lunch break together,” he paused to think. “Not just today but from now on.”

My eyebrow raised in confusion. “Why?”

Emotionless and mysterious, Burgess shook his head. “No questions. Deal?”

Thinking, I begrudgingly nodded. “Fine,” I shook his hand. Pierre better appreciate that I just threw away the only hour of sanctuary I had from Burgess.

“Call Walker up so the deal can be done. Oh, and you can ask him about being a caterer to the party. We could always just order… pizza,” He had a brighter light glowing off of his face and he went up to go at the chair behind his desk.

“Walker?” I called my friend. “Hey, this is about the Club.”

“Oh, sure!” Walker answered and laughed. “What’s up?”

“Burgess is throwing this party for New Years. Would you like to make some food for it?”

“Whoa… sure!” Walker’s enthusiasm succeeded in filling me with that tingling joy and euphoria that I had become addicted to. “Would you like to come in and we’ll set up an order?”

“All right, how about at noon?” I shot Burgess an appeased eye of gratitude.

“Sure. Can’t tell you how much this is going to help us out. Thanks.” Walker gushed and paused. There was a pause as two voices sounded a few yells and he was back on. “I owe you.”

“About that,” I timidly took a dive. “I’m asking for a little help. There’s this Christmas party in France that Madame Slater’s throwing.”

“Yeah, she does it every year. Why?” His cheery voice had gone thick with suspicion.

“Would you accompany Burgess and I to it this year?” I bit my lip and waited.

There was silence on the other end for what felt like minutes. Finally, “…You know, I always throw her invites into the trash?” Walker let out a chuckle of disbelief. “All right. I guess I can’t keep avoiding it all anymore. I’m stuck with that piece of my life. Besides, I owe you and her and… even Burgess now. Sure. But I’m not paying for anything, right?”

“No, you’re not.”

“Okay.” Walker let out a scoff but then he remained optimistic. “Who knows? Maybe I could show you around?”

“I’m sure you could,” I laughed and muttered so Burgess couldn't hear, “but it’d have to be after hours.”

“All right. I’ll see you soon.” And he hung up.

>

My newly cut hair was tickling my neck and collarbone, and I tugged at it nervously as I waited patiently for Burgess and Walker to arrive. The day before, Walker had noticed I was getting a lot of split ends, so he offered to barber my hair. With knives.

At first, I protested, but Lucy kept recommending and Walker kept asking so I finally let Walker have his way with my locks. They had been down past my shoulders, but he stole a good three inches from its length.

There’s something about a haircut that makes you feel as though you’re reborn. Even if it sounds shallow, just feeling my hair be trimmed and lightening the load off of me just made me feel better. And it was time for a change. Besides, my friend did an amazing job.

And I was frustrated again that a person as talented and carefree as Charles Walker just wasn’t the person for me.

“Hey,” Walker held out his arms as he carried a heavily packed duffel bag over his shoulder. “Ready?”

We were at the front of Burgess Incorporated, already prepared to drive to the airport and board Burgess’ jet to France for the weekend before Christmas. Even though I shouldn’t have been, I was excited for the two and a half days and couldn’t sleep the night before at the anticipation of the trip. Unlike the previous trip, Walker was here with me. And I was prepared for hell to freeze over with the suit case I dragged behind me.

“I made Lucy proud, and I don’t even know why,” I threw my arms around Walker in a tight hug that he returned.

“Probably because you’ve only one bag of luggage. She can’t understand why people pack their whole room when they’re only gone for a few days.” Walker’s smile slackened when he glared at the person approaching behind me.

“Hi, Mr. Burgess,” I turned and saw him folding his arms with sunglasses hiding his eyes. Behind were his black limo with the door open and the chauffer attentively waiting.

Burgess stared at me for a few moments too long, making me shrink back a little until he commented, “You cut your hair.”

“Yeah, Walker did it.” I anxiously walked past Burgess to enter the limo.

“Who says cutting hair with a Tai Pan is dangerous?” Walker called out after me as he dove into the car behind me. He sat next to me and stretched in the roomy vehicle.

“Anyone who’s seen you running at me with one,” I tried to make an impression of Walker with an enraged grin while stabbing at the air.

“Hah! It was more like,” Walker made a hilarious expression and started air slicing at my hair.

After fighting over fits of giggles, we both were silenced when Burgess cleared his throat. “Are you done?”

“Always the life of the party, eh Benny? But seriously, thanks for that party order,” Walker stretched and put his arm around my shoulder. “But you should get something other than sushi—like pizza or something generic. Japanese cuisine is an acquired taste, I admit.” We were frozen in an awkward pause. “So is it just the latest gossip or is Terra really missing?”

“She’s really gone. I think it’s just one of her escapades.”

“I haven’t seen her in years. Is she still the knock out with the personality of a heartless bitch, or has she finally gone soft?” Walker had a smirk on his face that I couldn’t help but become fixated on. I could see a dark personality in Walker creeping out of him, and I was uneasy at what I saw. He was acting like Burgess, with a pompous air that he was giving off. Even his body language had changed from being at ease and lucid into a rigid and confident form.

Burgess shrugged. “Well, last time we spoke, she had decided to stir some… emotions by going lesbian.”

“Wait, what?” I sat up and away from Walker’s arm that seemed to have tightened around me.

“Did you know?” Walker looked at me with a dark smile, as though telling me a dirty secret. “Ben and Terra were betrothed. Their parents thought it would have been a clever way of stabilizing the alliance between Slater Enterprise and Burgess Incorporated.”

“You would have been the lucky candidate if your parents weren’t so… dismissive of the idea. Madame Slater always liked you more.” Burgess bitterly snapped.

“No need for jealousy. You could follow my footsteps and quit it all anytime.”

“Sure, but I wouldn’t want to end up drowning in debt for all of the medical treatments I’d need.” Burgess shot back at him and threw a simpered face at me.

“Right. You’ll just waste your money on your hedonist lifestyle, you slut,” Walker spat.

I bit my lip then choked, “Stop it. Both of you.” And I started laughing at what Walker said. “I never heard a guy get called a slut.”

Walker beamed and stuck his tongue out to Burgess. “Ten points for making the lovely lady laugh. Zippy for the rich slut.”

“God, this weekend is going to rob ten years of my life,” Burgess stated as he rubbed his temples.

“Well at least you’ll finallly look the age you act,” Walker snickered and elbowed me to laugh along—but I only gave him an uncomfortable smile.

Burgess widened his eyes and touched his face in vanity before scowling and folding his arms. “Even when I grow old, I’ll still be twice as good looking as you.”

“Sure, but your personality is worth shit next to mine.”

“Oh really?” Burgess raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Mary, who do you think is more appealing?” With that question, both guys turned to grill me.

“What kind of question is that?!” I shrilled and shrunk back. I looked at both boys and could practically see the electric hate cracking at each other. “How about a game?” I quickly tried to change the subject. “Would You Rather, anyone?”

“Would I rather what?” Burgess snapped as he refused to take his eyes off of the blonde next to me.

“It’s a game, genius. Fine, I’ll go first. Burgess, would you rather make out with an old man or go bankrupt.”

“What kind of question is that?” Burgess demanded with his face brightening. “Neither!”

“You’ve got to choose one. That’s part of the game.”

“That’s a stupid game.” Burgess folded his arms and looked out the window.

I buried my face in my hands. This was going to be a long weekend.