The Fool Ch. 07

"No, way on the other side of the city, I'm here for a very particular ring. I've got it narrowed down to three. What do you think?" she asked and indicated the small black velvet pillow they rested on.

"Particular or peculiar?" Lee frowned at her selections.

"They're so ugly they're beautiful, in a strange way," Brandie said examining then carefully. "What's it for?"

"It's a gift for a man I know, a perfectionist who is very good looking and knows it," Carrie said happily.

"I meant the occasion, silly. This one is for a birthday, this one is for the holidays, and this one if you're planning to marry him. The raw diamond is amazing," Brandie said simply.

"Decision made then," she said to the jeweller. "Can you box it up for me?" she laid her gold credit card on the counter and turned back to the two young people beside her. "What can I say, he's Mr. Perfect."

She dropped her purse, and Brandie stooped to help her pick everything up, sliding the burn phone she'd asked for in the doodles into her purse along with the other contents. Then, taking her purchase, Carrie hurried back to the car and back to work, knowing she had already been longer than she said she would be.

"You're sure giving that magic plastic a workout lately," Daley chuckled as she ended a call making her evening plans.

"I sure am," she agreed. "I hope you guys had no other plans this afternoon or evening. I'm going to need a hand or four." She grinned.

*****

The final two boxes of the Panama treasure had been unpacked quickly, being larger items rescued from ships that had been under the command of Mansvelt.

"I'll pick you up at six tonight for our date night," she said with a small smile as she practically pushed him from the office she shared with her team. "Wear something nice, you know I like it when you put in a little effort," she winked at him and smacked his ass playfully.

"I'm just a fashion accessory to you, aren't I," he said in mock indignation.

"Aww... baby, don't pout. It's no secret that I only want you for your body," she laughed. "I'll pick you up at six, don't be late."

He chuckled as she turned and walked back into the office, leaving him on the other side of the security door.

"You've all done such a splendid job with everything else I've sent back that I am fully confident that you can handle the processing of these latest pieces without me here. I'm sorry I haven't been here as much as I should be, but I am still trying to negotiate the viewing of some of the more private collections, and perhaps even the crown jewel for our exhibition." Carrie seemed to consider them and had a lightbulb moment. "I've also tracked down some young progressive computer programmers who may be able to make some of those suggestions you made earlier a reality."

Carrie knew she was playing a dangerous game, introducing the hackers to her workspace, but she needed people she trusted in key positions in her life, and that included here in her team. She was doomed if she did nothing, and until she knew the bigger plan and what it all meant. She needed to appear to be playing the game and going along with her mother's plan. She didn't have to do everything today, she reminded herself and tried to quell the sense of urgency she felt.

"I have to go, I'll set up that meeting with the programmers for next week, Jett, you can take the lead with them on the digital projects, but Jayne's still in charge when I'm not here. Don't put any plans in stone until Sinclair and, more importantly, I have signed off on them. Just plans and prototypes," she warned the enthusiastic young man, who thanked her profusely as she picked up her bag and went to leave the room. "I'll be in late tomorrow."

Jayne deserved the credit of co-curating this exhibit, and Carrie would make sure she got it. She was the first to volunteer to come on board with her as an untried curator in her own right and had been nothing but supportive. She wasn't certain that it hadn't been set up by the Hats or her family to be that way, but she had no reason to doubt Jayne or Jett's authenticity. She knew she needed to be suspicious and paranoid about everyone's motivations now, but she wanted to believe in her museum team.

Her mind continued to whirl as she went to the designer who had created the midnight blue dress Sinclair loved so much and chose a dress of a similar style in a blood red colour. It hung off her body in all the same places and afforded her no option for even the most discreet underwear. From there she went to have her hair retouched and styled, her nails manicured and her makeup professionally done. She planned to make a statement tonight, not only to Sinclair, but Jordan and anyone else watching her.

She regretted not having the time to shop for matching shoes herself, but the strappy sandals she had worn this morning would suffice. She would have had the time for shoes and jewellery if Sinclair hadn't surprised her with his hand-picked pieces from Panama, but she could hardly be mad at him for interrupting plans he didn't know about. She wondered how long it would take him to start chafing at being treated like he tried to treat her on occasion. She planned to be in control tonight from the outset.

At one minute to six, after circling the block twice, the car pulled up in front of the house she knew so well, and Daley opened her door, helping her from the car. The front door of her home opened as she reached the top step and she presented Sinclair with a single rose.

"Good evening. Are you ready?" she said in a breathy voice, taking a deep breath so that her chest rose, pressing against the slinky clinging fabric of the dress.

"I thought I was, but now I'm not so sure, I don't think I could ever be ready for this! Are you sure you want to go out?" Sinclair chuckled and looked Carrie up and down with hungry eyes before snaking a hand around her waist and kissing her. "Good evening," he smiled as if he just heard her give him the formal greeting.

"Carrie, I need to speak to you," Jordan's voice sounded as he came up behind Sinclair, but he stopped and stared at her with wide eyes, then frowned at Sinclair.

"We can talk tomorrow. I have a date, and I don't want to waste my new dress on my brother." she enunciated the words meaningfully, waving away his concerns and taking Sinclair's hand as they walked back down to the car. She was mad at him, and he should know and understand just how mad she was. This wasn't something that could just be smoothed over so easily. She would work with him and follow the plan Robyn had trained them for, but the closeness they shared was now gone, along with her absolute trust she had in him before now.

"That was a little harsh, don't you think? Considering the way he feels about you," Sinclair commented.

"Was it?" she asked, not arguing the fact that he was in love with her for the first time.

"Carrington, I don't want to ruin what is starting out to be a very intriguing night, but that was cruel, and you know it!" Sinclair said sternly. "Do you want to tell me why you are so mad at him?"

"Not yet," she shook her head, taking the chastisement for what it was. "I will, eventually, but can we just enjoy tonight first?"

"It would be a crime to waste how much effort you've obviously put into tonight," he said softly and lifted her hand to his mouth to graze his lips over her knuckles.

"It would," she grinned back at him. They dined at a trendy restaurant frequented by the who's who of London celebrities and, as usual, she found Sinclair held a celebrity factor of his own. She, tonight, however, garnered some notoriety of her own, thanks to her choice of dress and dinner companion. She had always been taught to be a forgettable wallflower who didn't stand out for any reason in public gatherings, and it was a different feeling altogether garnering individual attention with the celebrity crowd.

"Hope you haven't killed off the museum mouse entirely, Kitten," Sinclair teased her. "I enjoy that intelligent little mouse just as much as I adore seeing you in all your sex kitten glory."

"She's bound and gagged in a quiet corner of my mind tonight with the other personalities keeping guard," she said offhandedly, surprising him.

"So, Carrington, what's next on tonight's fun list? I think I've had just about enough handshaking and back-thumping, and I am sure my cheek is wearing at least ten shades of lipstick. Not that I'm complaining, but perhaps we could have desert elsewhere?" Sinclair asked.

"Yes," she laughed lightly. "There's more to this night, I've gone to some trouble to make this night amazing for both of us. I'll pay the bill while we finish our wine," she agreed and signalled the waiter.

"I don't think I've ever been wined and dined before," he laughed as the waiter came and she took care of the bill.

"The night's not over yet, I'm hoping that if I make this night unforgettable, I might get lucky later," she winked, which made him laugh all the more.

"It'd have to be a pretty spectacular for me to put out on the first date," he shook his head.

'I like It when you play hard to get. I might just have a little something spectacular up my sleeve," Carrie gave him her best mysterious smile. "Figuratively speaking, of course," she added as he raised an eyebrow.

They finished their wine and walked out, farewelling the people they knew as they walked slowly to the door and climbed into the waiting car. Sinclair took her hand in his as they sat in comfortable silence as the car merged out into the traffic and sped away from the restaurant.

"You'll just make it if you hurry," Daley warned them as he opened the door for Carrie at their destination. The car had dropped them off at Jubilee Park, and they hurried toward the London Eye. She checked in and smiled as the man confirmed they were in time for the last pod ride of the night.

"Sinclair," she said, taking his hand as they walked onto the pod and the half hour ride began. "Could you do me a favour and turn off all your phones, please?" she asked. She placed her small purse on the seat and pulled out her phone, turning it off and placing it face up where he could see it.

"This sounds ominous," he said, but followed suit by emptying his pockets and turning off his phone.

"I wanted to talk to you, really talk to you, not about Jordan or the Fool or anyone else, just about us," she began walking to the edge of the pod and looking out over the twinkling lights of the city.

"You can talk to me about anything," Sinclair said, confused by the seriousness in her voice and worried about what had happened during her recent absence.

"Can I?" she asked. "You're so flippant about everything, and that's great. I can do flippant, but then you suddenly become serious in the middle of being flippant, and I never know what's going on or if you're altogether truthful with me. I want to trust you, but you make it so hard to know if I can or not. I know you're about to tell me that I can, but I expect that from you."

"I don't know what to say then to help you. I don't know what more I can do to prove that you can trust me. Is there something I can do to convince you?" Sinclair asked with all the sincerity he could muster.

"Do you trust me?" she asked abruptly.

"I'm ninety percent there," he said without hesitation.

"You still think I might be the Fool," she said, turning to look at him. "What if one day I turned around and told you I was? Would you trust me then? What would happen next? What if I lied?"

"If you told me that you were the Fool, I'd give you the Heart of the Heartless and you'd tell me why you targeted the Hats and we'd go on to live happily ever after, with no one else the wiser," he shrugged.

"Flippant," she accused.

"Truthful," he countered, wrapping his arms around her. "Carrington, tell me what's going on," he said with concern in his voice.

"I need help," she admitted. "I need to be able to trust you, but I am only seventy-five percent there, at best. I want to believe that you would have my back. I want to believe there could be a happily ever after in there somewhere for me." She sighed dramatically.

"What do you need help with?" the concern in his voice deepened.

"I need a good contract lawyer. I would like to keep Daley and Max around as my drivers and some added security. I also need to find out about working visa's for them, or if we can come to a legal agreement whereby I can gift them money and avoid the whole payroll thing," she said. "I'd like to look for a bigger house, it's awful in there now with all those people, we need the room, and, if I am about to become Mrs. Sinclair Mansfield, I think we should have a house closer to London than the west coast of Ireland."

"If you're what?" he said slowly, trying not to be flippant about what she had just said, but he couldn't help the grin that spread across his face.

"You really have to stop twisting my words," she said lightly, seeing him fight his confusion and joy as she moved out of his arms and went to where her purse lay. She took out the small white box and laid it flat on her palm, taking the two steps back toward him. "Twisting my words and joking about the whole situation the way you did, then slamming the door and walking away was beyond cruel, and it took me some time to consider that you might have been serious, but it's so hard to trust what you say, because you're so..."

"Flippant. I get it. Is that what I think it is?" Sinclair looked meaningfully at Carrie's hand where the small white box rested.

"Can you honestly tell me without any joking that you want it?" She asked. "That it's not just part of some bigger plan of your father or grandfather?"

"Can't both be true?" he asked carefully, realising she must know something, but unsure how much she knew about why his father had suggested they get engaged. "My father suggested that getting the Hats together for an engagement party may be the only way he could call Miles to account for the shot someone took at us. I have to admit, I didn't argue the idea, it was pretty soon in the relationship, but we'd met each other's families, and we were getting closer all the time," he took a deep breath. "I didn't realise just how much I wanted you to say yes until you walked out on me," he admitted finally.

"It wasn't Miles," she said carefully. "I can't tell you how I know, but I do. It was someone who had a business grudge against you. It had nothing to do with me," she told him just the barest of facts from what she had found out from her grandmother. "If you tell anyone, anyone at all that you found this out from me, any trust we have built will be broken," she added.

"You're sure your source was credible?" Sinclair asked and watched her nod. He ran his hands through his hair, the questions he had about how she knew this turning to dust in his mouth. "I've been so focused on you, on the Fool and thinking we finally had a lead, that no other reasons for the shooting even occurred to me. Do you know who?"

"No, only that it wasn't aimed at me. It was meant to scare you," Carrie repeated. "It shouldn't surprise you that in my family's line of work I have some nefarious contacts." She began covering herself in case the small amount of trust she had in him was misplaced.

"Thanks," he said. "I feel strangely better knowing it was me they were after, not you." He looked at where she stood, the little box balanced on her hand. "So you'd like advice on hiring people who don't have working visa's here and a London house?" He asked, being very careful to paraphrase her needs without being flippant.

"I want them to work for me. I don't want the guys paid by one of your family's companies or anything that borders on illegal, I just need to know how to do it so they can be comfortable about giving up their job's with Blake in Charleston," she explained further.

"I can help," he said, taking a step toward her, "With that and the house. Is there anything else?"

"Yes, but that's what I would like help with right now," she said quietly, suddenly unsure of herself. She took a deep breath, and with her free hand took his. She had to do this. She needed him if she were to have any chance of eventual freedom, or at least some sense of safety in the future. She wished she knew for sure that everything he said was real, but nothing and no one in her life had ever been real, and, until she decided what to do, she needed Sinclair, as well as the people she was sure were loyal to her, around her.

"Can we sit down?" she asked, turning towards the bench in the middle of the pod.

"Promise me something first," he pulled her against his body and kissed her. "Promise you'll tell me what's going on here and what happened in the last week, sooner rather than later."

"I don't want to make promises I mightn't be able to keep. I will tell you when and if I can. I just need you to trust me for a little while longer, please, Sinclair, not yet. I can't yet," she heard the anxiety creeping into her voice as she spoke and turned her face away from his.

"Then, yes, I want this," he placed his hand over the box in her hand.

"Not so fast, sit down first," she took another breath, and, as he perched on the bench, she went down on one knee and looked at him earnestly. "I need to believe I can trust you right now, that you will have my back like no one else. I need to believe in, not only you, but us," she smiled and held the box before her, opening the lid and holding it toward him. "It's not a perfect ring; it's not smooth, or clean. It's not very pretty, like so much of our relationship, but I think, once you get past the initial impression and you begin to appreciate the rawness of it, the ring has the potential to be quite beautiful. I'm hoping, that even though it's been a while since we last had this conversation, that you still want to marry me."

"Yes, I do, I will have your back, Carrington, you can trust me," he said seriously, looking like he was busting to say more. "Can I be just a little bit flippant? Maybe just a small swoon?" he smirked.

"In one minute," she took the ring from the box and placed it on his finger. "Go for gold," she laughed and rolled her eyes as he fluttered his fingers, looking at the ring.

"I'm so excited!" he said in a high-pitched feminine voice. "I gotta call my Dad! He'll go nuts! This is so unexpected. It's a perfect ring, I feel just like Cinderella! You wait and see, our happily after is going to be just like a fairy tale," he barely took a breath as he continued to ramble in the silly voice. Then he suddenly stopped and stood, grabbing her and kissing her hard. "Seriously, though, you've made me one happy guy!" he kissed her again, and she was still locked in his arms some time later when the ride stopped and the doors opened.

"The night's not over yet," she grinned and took his hand as they left the observation pod.