Would You Bargain With Hell?

The intercom buzzed and I swatted at the air. I grunted. “Rayder!” The box yelled. I groaned and sat up, toppling to the intercom.

“What?”

“Rayder! Get ready for your date. Dress nicely. I’ll do your makeup as soon as your get your sloppy twat out of that room.” She beeped off.

Sloppy twat, I thought, what is a sloppy twat? I stripped out of my pajamas and wiped at my runny nose. I went to a tack of neatly piled formal occasion dresses. The first one was silver, with cleverly sprinkled on rhinestones, about knee length. The silk material was smooth. He’ll like that right? I thought to myself. Or does Mason not like this rich stuff? I mean, Patrick.

I zipped it on, I would have looked in a mirror, but I didn’t have one. I wriggled my fingers through my hair to untangle it while losing my way to the lobby. The grand golden chandelier always showed me the way. Grace waited, in front of a tall barstool.

“Get over here Rayder we don’t have much time.”

I jogged over, sitting in the barstool while she covered my face in a creamy light liquid then attacked my eyes with neutral eye shadows and then at my eyelashes with mascara.

“You are stunning Rayder.” The way she said it was almost the truth, but she’d never told me the truth before. “Look at those brilliant green eyes. That lovely long hair. You’ll make Patrick so happy.”

I think it must have been the almost compliment but I felt comfortable enough to say, “What if I like someone else?”

“Do you?”

“No! But in the future.”

“No back-up plans yet, in all hope soon enough you’ll be Mrs. Lady Rayder Howell.” Grace looked up at space as if imagining me in a wedding gown. The doorbell derailed her train of thought.

“Ah! It’s Patrick, be cool!” She squealed flattening her pencil skirt as she glided to the door, I followed close behind.

Grace opened it slowly. The blonde-haired boy stood there, taking Grace’s hand and kissing it, then mine. “Hello Mrs. Tamerlane. Hello my sweet Rayder.” I smiled.

“Go on Rayder, he’s taking you to lunch.” Grace placed her hand on my back and pushed me forwards, where of course I fell in Patrick’s arms. He held me tightly and I looked up at him. He smiled, like he was looking at something so amazing he could barely control his excitement.

“You okay baby doll?” I wasn’t sure I was okay with all his pet names.

“I’m good, thanks.”

Grace closed the door, the sun burned brightly on my bear shoulders as Patrick escorted me to his small limo.

“Where are we going to lunch?”

“You may not like it, it’s a bit downtown, but they have the best tiramisu. Have you heard of Scrappers Café?” My heart dropped again, thudding against my abdomen.

“Scrappers Café?”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I like to take my girlfriends there, to see how they treat the lesser peoples.”

“Lesser peoples isn’t really the proper word.”

“Good, test one passed.”

I smiled. My hands shook in my lap and my foot bumped up and down. It was noon, Mason would surely be there. He told me he would be.

Before I had realized I was staring out into space, Patrick tapped me and I shook my head.

“Sorry, just a bit tired.”

“That’s fine my dear so what are your hobbies?”

“I like to draw.”

“Really? Could you draw me?”

“I would give it a shot.”

“Hold on.” Patrick ducked down coming back with a sketchpad and paper.

“That’s convenient.”

He chuckled.

I had an idea as he handed me the paper. I sat so he couldn’t see what I was doing. I wrote a note in the corner of the paper so if I saw mason I could give it to him.

Mason,
I’m here with a bloke called Patrick, I’m sorry. We aren’t together. Well we are. That doesn’t matter anyway does it? We’re just friends. Anyway it’s probably not a good idea that we act as though we know each other. I’m sorry. Can we meet again?
~Rayder

I tore the corner with the note off. He looked curiously. “I gave you horrendous cheekbones. Let me start over.” He chuckled and I tucked the note in the top of my dress.

I doodled for a while, finally presenting him with a decent portrait which he seemed to enjoy thoroughly. The car stopped, and he escorted me out. I walked in the café slowly; there was a bar just in front of the entrance. I saw him. I knew from the back of his head. The boyish mess.
“Patrick, could you get us a table; I’m just going to use the restroom.”

He nodded and went to get a table. I walked straight ahead, tapping on Masons shoulder. He turns his smile so big. I so badly wanted to wrap my arms around him; I had never had that feeling before.

“Ray-.”

“Shh.” I shushed him, my face sad. He looked at me confused, and I pulled the note out and handed it to him, my hand lingering a little too long.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, going to meet Patrick at his booth.

I sat, and looked up, seeing Mason stood there silently.

“What do you think?”

“It’s quaint, I like it.”

“Me too, I think we were meant to be together Rayder.”

I looked up at Mason was walking towards me. My heart skipped a beat, he stopped at our table. “Hi, my name is Mason Uraprick and I’ll be your server today.”

I stifled a laugh.

“Unfortunate last name.” Patrick said.

“It’s English.” Mason said, after hearing Patrick’s English accent. He looked down at me; I was smiling that real smile again. I felt warm.

Patrick looked insulted.

“What can I get you to drink? For the lady?”

“Iced tea please.”

“For the boy?”

“I’m a man. And I’ll have hot tea.”

“I’ll be right back with that.” Mason left.

I knew he didn’t really work here, he didn’t have a job. He was doing this for me. I couldn’t stop smiling.

Mason returned setting a cup of tea in front of Patrick and a glass of tea in front of me. One of the straws in his hand slipped, and when he bent down to get it he put a note on my lap. I ignored it at first, so I wouldn’t draw suspicion. Patrick sipped his tea.

“This is cold! What’s happening here?”

“So sorry boy. Hold on a moment.” He took Masons cup, dropping a pencil on my lap, to reply with.

Patrick excused himself to wash his mouth. I unfolded the note.

Rayder,
Seems like we always end up communicating by note. I’m not waiting to see you any longer. I haven’t stopped thinking about you. Do you really like this boy?
~M

I looked to make sure Patrick wasn’t near, and wrote with the pencil.

M,
I’ve thought about you too. But I don’t really knowing what way. Maybe we should talk. When? Where? And no, I don’t. It’s a; long story.
~R

I folded it up.

Patrick slid back into his seat. “Sorry dear, that tea was bloody awful.”

“That’s okay Patrick; I’m having a good time here.”

“I’m glad.” He took my hands in his across the table, and I blushed as Mason walked by. He looked in my lap to see the note was replied to, and then he put down a new cup of tea.

“Dropped my pencil, hold on a sec.” He bent over, his fingers skimming my thigh to grab the note and pencil; he slipped the note in his pocket.
“To eat?”

“I’ll have the Caesar salad.” I said.

“Me too please.” Said Patrick.

Pretty soon Mason returned with salads dropping his note in my hands.

I unfurled it while Patrick ate.

R,
Meet me at the bridge tonight.
~M