Welcome to FolkWhore...Again
What a terrible sign Conrad thinks to himself, he turns to Rebekah, who is blowing the steam off another cup of coffee.
“You know you can die from too much coffee,” Conrad says. Rebekah takes a long sip, almost tempting fate before shrugging her shoulders. “That is if you don’t die from hypothermia,” he adds.
Rebekah glances down at her choice of clothes today—a thin black turtleneck and khaki cigarette trousers that have been rolled up to the ankles. Like always her trench coat has not been tied up and allows the winter breeze to wrap itself around her body.
“Let’s just go in Conrad, it’s cold.”
Conrad laughs, opening the door for his temporal partner who steps in. As he follows, she grabs his arm, pulling him down slightly to speak to him.
“You should talk to the guy,..he’s already seen me. I’ll have a look around.”
Conrad nods watching as Rebekah slinks off away, weaving through the aisle of hanging costumes. Klaus is leaning over the desk bored, as usual, one hand over his mouth as he covers his tenth yawn in the last five minutes.
Conrad takes out his badge flipping it open for Klaus to see. At the sight of it, the male faery perked up-- hands pressed flat on the glass countertop.
“What can I do for you...”
“Agent Grier,” Conrad finishes. “I am hoping to speak to your boss.”
Klaus thought for a moment, his eyes trail over Conrad’s slim physique taking in the outfit of the day.
A brown aviator jacket the lining fur an untainted white, it is covering a buttoned-up navy blue shirt. Klaus didn’t want it to be too obvious, so does not peer over the counter to see his bottom half.
Deciding that the man looked good, he jabs his thumb to the green curtains behind him.
“She’s in there.”
“Calamba, let’s go,” Conrad shouted.
Klaus’ eyes narrow at the mention of the woman that came a week ago. Rebekah’s tiny face emerges from a rack of clothes, almost pleased with herself as she skips to Conrad’s side.
“Thanks so much,” Rebekah says taking the lead through the green curtains.
The room had the same magic used in Magenta’s office space. It made the room feel as though it was basking in natural light. Somehow the pair did not walk through a long corridor as Mae and Dominic had, but instead straight into everything you’d expect from a store that sells luxury costumes.
There are four workbenches decorated with ripped and shredded fabrics. On the wall, farthest from them is a thin shelf filled with large rolls of fabrics surrounded by desks with sewing machines.
The room is nearly empty aside from the ginger sitting on a workbench, her head leaning on her hand as she traced something using chalk.
“Miss...” Rebekah begins. The redhead raises her head, fixing the fedora hat better.
“Just Magenta is fine,” she says.
Conrad frowns letting Magenta’s brown eyes survey over the pair studying them. She stands up from her chair.
“I hear you’ve been asking for me?” Magenta’s black woolly cardigan swishes to the nonexistent wind as she approaches the pair almost stopping them from walking too far into the room.
Rebekah takes a step towards her hand, outstretched. Magenta stares at the hand, either unsure of what to do or flat out refusing to shake it. Magenta diverts her attention to Conrad, who has an intense gaze on her.
“Yes, why did Mr Aldrek pay 881,000 dollars to Mae Geoffries?” Conrad asks.
Magenta laughs lightly tucking some hair behind her ear, her hands decorated with rings, that catch the light at the perfect angle almost blinding Conrad.
“I doubt you’d be here if you didn’t already speak to Mr Aldrek, and from what Klaus says this one.” She points to Rebekah. “Has already been here.”
“I just want to get the story straight,” Conrad replies simply.
“Alright, then. Miss Geoffries is one of my designers. She has been hired by Mr Aldrek to design and create outfits for guests to purchase for his event in the new year.”
Conrad doesn’t bother to write anything down. Still, Rebekah, however, is scribbling away-- it is hard to decipher what exactly is written due to a mixture of her overly cursive handwriting and shorthand.
“How can we get in touch with Miss Geoffries?” Magenta looks at Rebekah who spoke almost disgusted that the women had a voice to speak. She turns to Conrad as if to say “control her”, instead Conrad stands by his partner and raises his brow waiting on an answer.
“Unfortunately, Miss Geoffries requires complete isolation during a project. This one will last ten months. But I’m just a bit confused Agent Grier.”
“What are you confused about?”
“Why you’re coming here after all this was told to your partner there.”
Conrad looks to the Rebekah who frowns at all the attention that had dropped on her. Rebekah looks between the pair that seem to tower over the small Asian woman. She readjusts her glasses.
“That is true Magenta, but as her boss, you should be able to contact your employer especially if the IRS and FBI are requesting you to do so,” Rebekah argues.
Magenta narrows her eyes the edge of the brown starting to fade to purple.
“Is Mae in trouble?” she asks the pair unexpectedly.
“No,” Conrad replies.
“Has she done something illegal?”
“That’s what we are trying to ascertain, Magenta.”
“Right so my employee has done nothing wrong but taken a job. Unless you bring a warrant, it’s down to my discretion on what I give you. I have told you what she is doing, and I have told you for how long. Now please if you may I have a lot of work to do.” Magenta motions her hand to the door, signalling she wants them to leave.
Conrad and Rebekah stand outside the falling sun casting dark glows over the city and on them. Both equally pissed as the wind whips around their bodies, adding to their annoyance.
Conrad runs a hand through his hair while Rebekah sipped her coffee.
“I noticed something,” Rebekah speaks deciding she has, had enough of the cold air taking away her heat.
“I took a design major before settling with the IRS and stitching was something that we had to learn from basic to intermediate both machine and by hand.”
“Ok, where are you taking this?”
“Well while I was wandering through the clothes, I noticed that all the costumes had the same stitching a very basic straight stitch.”
“so?” Conrad lets the word hang in the air for Rebekah to continue.
“Well anyone who’s done designing knows straight stitch isn’t the best choice for all fabrics, especially if they are made to order and supposedly luxury.”
“What I’m saying is you use a straight stitch for efficiency and mass production.”
Conrad looks blankly at Rebekah who rolls her eyes.
“I’m saying their clothes aren’t luxury they are massed produced. I’m saying that being a designer for a company that mass produces their costumes is pointless. Especially as it seems Magenta is a designer herself.”
“What you’re saying is that Mae can’t be a designer?”
“I don’t know about that, but 881,000 is a lot of money for bad stitching.”
A.N. Oooh, Rebekah might be onto something. What did you think Magenta did to the long hallway Mae and Dominic went through?
Chapter question: Who’s your favourite character so far?
Let me know what you think, and most importantly, thanks for reading.