Chapter 4 PAWNS AND PARTNERS

Betse sat in the taxi she had taken as it drove her through the city. She didn't know where she was going but she knew she didn't want to go home, she couldn't go home yet. She just sat in the back, lost in thought.

'What the hell happened?' she thought to herself.

She couldn't connect the dots, how can someone be so sweet at night and so terrible the next day. She slowly raised her head and looked through the window.

"Stop me here!" she practically shouted at the driver and he came to an immediate stop.

She paid the driver and exited the car, taking her stance in front of "The Golden Elixir."

The Golden Elixir was her favorite bar with a certain connotation to its name that symbolized the drinks that were sold there. She stepped in with a deranged look of perplexity on her face and made her way to the counter.

"Hey, Betse, good day," the barman greeted her.

"Hey, Alan, the usual, please." She took a seat at the counter.

"Coming right up." Alan answered and began whipping up her bizarre yet preferred mixture of beer and accurately calculated shots of bourbon with simple syrup.

"Thank you, Alan," she said to him as she he handed her the drink in a beer glass.

"I will never understand why you like this stuff," he said to her.

"It is not for you to understand, it is for you to mix. And for something you claim to not understand, you sure know how to mix it."

"What can I say, I'm good at my job."

"And I can attest to that." A sweet yet authoritative female voice joined the conversation from behind her.

"Good day, Miss Coulter." Alan greeted as the poshly dressed young woman took a seat beside Betse.

She kept her birkin bag on the counter which was the first thing that caught Betse's eyes before she looked into the woman's beautiful eyes.

"Oh my, you're gorgeous." The woman said to Betse, admiring her beauty. "I'm Ola, Ola Coulter."

"Umm, uh. Erm, I'm uh, B– B– Be– Betse. Betse Walters." Betse stammered.

"We didn't get a chance to chat last night given the dramatics that took place."

"Last night?" Betse was confused. The only events from the previous night she could remember was her in a room with Kini.

"Yes, at Kini's party, the charity event."

"Oh! You were there?" she asked, catching on.

"Indeed, I was. Didn't start off as a good one for you, did it? Anyways, I'm glad Kini was able to help."

"Are you friends with him, Mister Belmont?" She asked, taking note of the way Ola kept referring to Mr Belmont by his first name.

"Not really. In our world, Betse, there are pawns and partners, and we are all both. And when I saw you at that party, I knew you weren't of our world."

"What?" Betse's guards was now up.

"Come on, Betse, you might have fooled everybody at that party, but you can't fool me. Unlike a good ton in our world, I didn't become rich, I was born into wealth, generations of it. I know what wealth looks like, smells like, walks like, talks like, sits like."

At hearing this, Betse quickly sat straight, noticing that she had been slouching.

"I don't know who you are, Betse, but I know you are not who you claim you are. Even the dress you wore yesterday, you didn't know its value so you couldn't carry yourself to match its standard."

"Excuse me?" Betse was offended.

"Don't get me wrong. I'm just letting you know what I know."

"I think it's best I leave." She said and got up.

"Where are you going? I'll drive you."

"First you insult me, now you try to show off your wealth."

"Of course not, I would never insult you. I like you, Betse, and I'd like us to be friends."

"If this is how you make friends, it will not be a shock to me that you have none. Goodbye, Miss Coulter." She turned and began walking away.

"I'm sorry!" Ola let out sharply.

Betse took a sudden pause and then with a deep breath, she turned back to Ola and saw the sincerity in her eyes. She reckoned Ola spoke without filters and spoke as any rich person who had never experienced financial difficulty did.

She opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. She pulled her phone out of her bag and answered the call from a strange number.

"Good morning, ma'am. This is Oslo and Oslo Laundry and Dry Cleaning. We have a gown here for you, ma'am." A customer service personnel spoke over the phone.

"What?" She was caught off guard and confused.

"Aren't you Miss Betse Walters."

"I am."

"We received your gown from the Belmont mansion with an urgent request. It's ready ma'am."

"Wow, that was quick. Um, okay, I'll come get it. Just forward me the address."

"Will, do ma'am."

"Thank you."

The call ended and barely 5 seconds laters she got a text from the number detailing the address.

"Do you know this place?" She looked at Ola, showing her phone screen.

And with a big smile, Ola answered, "of course. Come on, I'll drive you."

"Thank you," she appreciated Ola. "Jeez! How could I forget?" She facepalmed gently. "I hope I make it before my rental time expires." She looked at her watch as she mumbled to herself.

"Any problem?" Ola inquired

"Can you drive fast?"

"Yes, why?"

"At this moment, time is literally money."

"What?" Ola was as confused as a fish on land.

"I'll explain on the way. I need you to be as fast as possible."

"My pleasure," Ola replied with a demonic smile and quickly walked out of the bar with Betse following behind her.

Ola led the way to a maroon McLaren P1 parked just outside the bar and both doors opened majestically. She got into the drivers seat and looked at Betse who had not still entered the car and was just staring at it in awe.

"Come on, get in."

"Remember when I said drive as fast as you can? Well, you can forget about that." She said and then got in.

"Strap in."

"Oh my, I'm gonna die today."