of an elegant bed, a desk, and two sofas. Exotic materials, trinkets, and mementos littered the place: souvenirs from exotic places far from Rustec, far from any civilization, were pinned or placed.
It was an enigmatic affair though sorted into some semblance of order when scrutinized. The single desk was littered with the contents of other people’s pockets, weighing down stacked charts made by those who excelled in cartography. For those who desired order and neatness in their lives, this car was a literal nightmare. For Franco, it was home.
He took the handle of a mug filled with coffee. A quick draw on the drink revealed it to be cold, though that mattered not with a headache such as his. This tranquillity was interrupted as a sudden rapping at the connecting door drew his attention.
‘Are you awake yet?’ came a voice.
He ground the stub of his cigarette into a makeshift ashtray.
‘If I wasn’t then you just made sure of that. You’re under the impression that I slept.’
Misu made a small smile as she entered, swinging the door to a close behind her, examining her boss’s shirtless physique with a glance. It didn’t go unnoticed.
‘I confess, I did see you taking a stroll on the platform. Walking around like that will distract the other girls, Franco. You should be more modest with what you put on display. They’re only human, you know.’
‘And yet you show no concern for your own wellbeing. That is quiet telling. Like a swan who points out the rest of her flock to a predator to spare her own life.’
He cockily swigged from the coffee once more until it was emptied.
Misu covered her smirk with a hand, retrieving a clean shirt from the back of the sofa and tossing it to him.
‘Put that on. You should stop fantasizing about what you cannot have, my dear manager. That sort of attitude could become the end of you. I have news from our dear driver that he is ready for the off on your word. The girls are waiting your inspection.’
Franco begrudgingly pulled the material over his head and wrestled with the cuff buttons.
‘A little keen, aren’t they? We still have some time. We still have, uh …’ He trailed off under the realization that his pocket watch was absent from his trousers.
Instead, Misu filled the gap. ‘Two hours,’ she flatly stated.
‘Exactly, we have another two hours. Seems awfully impatient of them.’
‘I keep them prompt and organized. You said you expected no less of the women in our employ.’
‘That does indeed sound like something I would say.’ He loosely brushed his hair into some sort of shape with his fingers, changing the subject. ‘How were the takings last night?’
‘A little on the low side but nothing too worrying. We’re still down but I don’t see that continuing as a trend given where we’re heading next. I’ve already amended the books so they’re ready for the safe. That is, unless you want me to do that as well?’
It was a bone of contention that Franco didn’t trust anybody with the safe key other than himself. It was kept on his person at all times. He had decided before any others were employed he would be the only one to have access – as much for everyone else’s protection as his own. Nobody would be tempted to take something they shouldn’t and as a result, he wouldn’t have to wildly speculate as to the culprit and sow discord among the ranks.
Misu, however, didn’t see things quite like this. As she was tasked with maintaining order among the showgirls, her role was quite considerable and weighty with responsibilities. She could assist in deciding where they were to visit next. In fact it was her numerous contacts that they used to send the invitation banner to whichever location was decided on. So it was unfathomable that she was denied the ability to put away a little money. It was an insult, nothing more.
‘Nobody opens the safe but me. We’ve been through this before. Don’t take it personally.’
He knew it was difficult not to. He moved on past and held the door open for her to leave the carriage. She did so after a scrutinizing glare.
The pair walked the length of the carriages, ensuring everything was ready for pulling off. They began with the end lounge car, which had been a point of congregation for smokers. Cherry-red wood was lacquered into a deep crimson, with every panel adorned with carvings, telling stories long forgotten by craftsmen now dead. Teardrops of glass from the mounted chandeliers were impeccably bright, their dusting not overlooked.
Bookcases and shelving were already cladded with lattices to prevent anything moving in transit. The billiard table had been secured in its place by fastening bolts and the accompanying stock of balls had been put away. Everything looked in good order, checked with the occasional test of strength or run of a fingertip.
They moved through to the boxcar, which shunned decadence for practicality, strictly off limits to all but staff. Provisions, packed into shabby crates, were stacked high to its roof. The tables and chairs had been disassembled and wall-mounted, secured with ties.
The other cars, lounge ones mostly, which accommodated plenty of attendees yet showed no sign of tarnish. Seats ran in formation at a slight angle, facing wide windows that swallowed views whole. Even so, surfaces were polished, carpets swept, and windows cleaned. As Misu and Franco advanced, any of the showgirls in attendance wished their good mornings and waited for any critique as to their handiwork. It wasn’t forthcoming. It never was. Misu was right to boast.
The bar had been restocked, a wall of bottles in dizzying scope and complexity that ensured patrons were well inebriated no matter their tastes. The bar area itself, disjointed from an outer wall, was joined by reams of seating. The bar doubled as a makeshift kitchen, though it was too small to feed attendees so instead remained for staff use only.
Everything was predictably spotless and with this predictability came boredom. Franco’s mind wandered.
‘You didn’t tell me the girls had new outfits.’
‘Cheaper than you think, I assure you, so please do not fret. Besides, it came as a nice surprise, did it not? I can still pull one over you, manager.’ Misu nodded her acceptance to another showgirl they passed, who curtseyed back in relief.
‘It’s a shame that we don’t have a show on tonight. I rather like that little red and black lace number of yours,’ he said.
‘You like anything that shows my cleavage, like any man, and whilst that is flattering in a funny sort of way, it’s not exactly what a girl looks for. Aim a little higher if you’re attempting to be charming.’
As they moved out of the car and stepped out onto the connecting platform that straddled the coupling, they turned to face one another. This game was growing tiresome for them both. Playful jibes were no longer getting the desired effects. Stakes had to be raised as much as the blood if there was any chance for a payoff.
‘You’re not performing at this moment, so you can rest spitting fire. Answer me honestly: what exactly does a woman desire, huh? Security? Authority?’ Franco asked with hint of heat before standing toe to toe, having the advantage of a good foot of height. ‘Maybe it’s money. Maybe it’s the prestige. Maybe it’s this charm that you spoke of. Maybe, just maybe …’
Misu
