I Unintentionally Became Her Kitten

Chapter 64: There Are Always Consequences

Alisha directed me to wear the fitted dress and I did so, taking a brief moment to admire the way it hugged my curves. I almost liked my curves in this dress. My torso was still rectangular, but it wasn’t un-feminine like I’d come to see it… I was glad I’d accepted this dress from Alisha, even knowing it was probably ludicrously expensive.

She pulled on a similarly fancy dress, in dark blue. She tended to wear cool dark colors fairly frequently. They brought out the blue of her eyes and were more muted even when the dresses or blouses were very obviously expensive.

She watched as I put on some foundation, being ginger with it. The bruises on my neck were gone now, so this was entirely to even out the tones on my face and hide any blemishes, though since I’d been using the same face wash as Alisha, my skin had almost no breakouts. It wasn’t flawless like hers, but still far better than what had been going on while I was on the streets.

I smoothed out a final little smear and approved of it, before catching her eye and realizing she hadn’t stopped gazing at me.

“What?” I asked.

“Here,” she pulled me closer and selected an eyeliner from her little makeup case.

I held very still as the tip of the pen licked along my eyelid. There was a bit of an itch and an urge to pull away and rub my eye as she did this but I didn’t give in to the temptation.

“Would you like some more makeup of your own?” she asked. “I think you’re perfectly cute without it but I see you using that foundation quite a bit.”

“I don’t… really know how to apply it,” I said, careful to keep my head still as she finished.

Her hands pulled away and I blinked a couple times, the feeling of the new eyeliner fading as my body got used to it.

I looked in the mirror and found a dark black line hugging the very base of my eyelashes.

“You can’t learn if you don’t explore,” Alisha told me.

“Uh… at least buy me drugstore brands,” I told her. I took the eyeliner she had just used on me. “I know this is thirty dollars.”

“Thirty is too expensive?” she asked and rummaged around in her makeup bag again and found some mascara she approved to be used on me. “Thirty is pretty mid-range, I thought. I don’t really need the eighty dollar stuff.”

I held still again as she held my face and the wand came dangerously close to my eyeball and with a practiced swoosh, Alisha applied the mascara. 

“Don’t blink yet,” she instructed softly as she did the other side. It was very tempting to blink. My eyes were starting to water as she finished the other side. 

I waited another few seconds as she continued to hold my face.

“What do you think?” she asked and pulled me in front of the mirror.

My eyes looked different. There was a sparkle to them that wasn’t there without getting framed by the black.

“It's pretty,” I said and leaned forward. She had applied a very even wing of eyeliner and my lashes were dark and fuller, but not noticeably clumped or tacky.

“You have the kind of demeanor you could get away with a lot of playful makeup, you know,” she said and put her makeup away again before taking her lipstick and applying it thickly. She then put it in her purse to bring with her. I was surprised. I’d never seen her go bold with lipstick. And her eyeliner was quite thick today as well. “I’m rather jealous.”

I didn’t understand. “Huh?”

“Like… bright colors and little hearts or stars, you know… things I could never do,” she explained.

“I mean…” I looked in the mirror. “I don’t want to be flashy.”

She gave me a brief pet before selecting a pair of tall stiletto heels in a glossy blue to match her dress. “You do you,” she said. “But wear your flats today.”

“Of course.” I wasn’t so insane as to not wear nice shoes with this dress.

She provided me with a purse today, and slid my gun into it before handing it to me.

I understood.

It was not Tye driving, nor Matteo. That was expected, they had other plans. But the young kid that usually did the rounds with Alisha. He looked uncomfortable in a suit, or perhaps with the current situation. He was an enforcer she didn’t typically use for things of importance, but the current situation made it necessary.

“Alisha?” I asked. 

“Yes?” she looked up from her phone.

“I know… we’re meeting someone important, right? Is there anything I should say or do?” I was aware of how I said that thing in front of Nico and she had not liked that. She didn’t blame me but still… I’d rather not make that kind of mistake again.

She examined me. “As much as I hate to tell anyone to just sit there and be pretty, that’s probably going to be the best course of action for you. It’s not because I don’t think your opinion matters or that you're useless, but if you intend to accompany me for these things a lot in the future, it will be more beneficial for you to listen and observe and learn. There are subtleties I can’t teach you directly, but if you let yourself absorb them, you’ll pick them up. Do you understand?”

I nodded. “And if he asks me something I do answer, correct?”

“Yes. It would be rude not to,” she soothed my hair back. “But you don’t need to be too nervous. It’s just a meeting to discuss moving a territory line.”

I nodded. “But Mr Santos is like… you of the Santos family, right?”

“Yes. And do I make you nervous?”

“Alisha… yes,” I said pointedly. “I know you're not about to hurt me but… I also know you have to make difficult decisions. And those decisions are really… scary.”

She nodded. “Yes,” she agreed. “But you know you don’t have to witness these things, right?”

“I do… but someone has to.”

She didn’t comment on this, and instead carefully pulled me a bit closer. We passed through the city, going south. We passed through Sergei’s territory, past his bodega and past an area with a lot of people from all walks of life strolling through. This, I assumed, was the North block that was valued so immensely. There were definitely a lot of people in it, and a lot of people from every social class, from homeless individuals, to businessmen in nice suits, checking smart watches for the bus schedule and hoping they wouldn’t have to stand on the greasy corner too long.

The Escapade passed through this intersection without drawing much attention except from one individual leaning against the outside of a bus stop, smoking a cigarette and eyeing it warily.

One of Mr Santos’s men, I was sure. He probably recognized Alisha’s Escapade. 

I had never been to this part of the city with Alisha, though it wasn’t far at all from where she had first picked me up. The North block had only been a block and a half away from my chosen alley-corner.

Perhaps… they were quite literal when they set territorial boundaries and she wasn’t allowed to come here uninvited… but that would be incredibly inconvenient. What if she wanted to go shopping in any of the south neighborhoods? Was it simply not allowed? I understood not allowing any business dealing across the border but setting foot across the border at all needing permission? Then again how would any of the Santos people know who was who. Criminals didn't look any different than anybody else.

The Escapade continued on uninterrupted past a grungier neighborhood and into one of the nicer ones with taller buildings and clean sidewalks. Here, it pulled to a stop. I got ready to open the door but stopped, seeing Alisha patiently waiting.

This was my only cue to calm down. The driver came around and opened her door first and she stepped out. Then it was my door.

Social constructs, I realized. There was a pecking order here I must respect and that was going to be difficult since I didn't know where I stood with all of these people.

Sure I was beneath Alisha and Mr Santos … but her driver? It wasn't like we were in a distinctly different social class… were we?

But he had a job and I didn't but he was employed by my partner so … I'd just have to trust other people to cue me. Alisha reached over and ran her hand down my back to pull me close to her hip as she approached the double glass doors of this restaurant place. I folded my hands in front of me, clutched around the purse she had given me this morning. It was heavy with the weight of gunmetal and a phone.

I stepped with Alisha, and we entered the building, her guard following a couple paces behind in the proper fashion.

Inside was a restaurant that smelled incredible.It was the smell of steak and garlic and butter and herbs. The hostess didn't have a stand here, she was waiting with hands neatly folded by the door and when she saw us, gave us a smile with every ounce of professional friendliness she could muster.

“Ms. Takeno,” she greeted with a polite nod. “Right this way.”

Alisha followed her. I could see other diners at some of the tables but as usual we wouldn't be dining with the peasantry. Never when Alisha was in boss mode.

We were led through the main dining room, where I saw generous portions of meat and sides on people's plates. It all looked very tasty and smelled like the concentrated essence of a good happy family barbeque. Saliva welled under my tongue despite myself. I wanted to shove a rack of ribs in my mouth. Or an entire steak. The big kind that had warnings tagged to it on the menu because eating that much steak in one sitting wasn't good for your heart and could induce heart attacks.

When was the last time I ate steak? Probably when my dad made it the last time the family had something to celebrate… that was a long time ago and the steak would've been tough and overcooked.

The steaks here, I saw, were still red in the center.

Finally we went through a set of double doors to a back dining room. I felt the tension increase in my shoulders. There were more men in suits here. Four to be exact, on either side of both the front and the back doors. It was still unnatural for me to be around so much security.

There was also a table set up with three place settings. The man sitting there was very well groomed. He stood, revealing himself to be a shorter man, and stout with wide shoulders.

Alisha stood over him in her heels, the same way she did me. Still he came around to openly offer her a warm embrace she accepted.

“Thank you for taking the time to see me, Dinis,” she said smoothly.

“Of course, it's a pleasure to do business with you,” he told her. His voice had an accent I couldn't place. It was subtle but present, occasionally tugging a vowel or consonant just a little outside of the standard American phonetics.

They broke their embrace and he looked at me.

I gave him a friendly smile and readied to introduce myself but he simply turned back to the table and took his seat again.

My brain processed a moment. We'd never even met and he had dismissed me as unimportant… but he knew I was going to be here. There were three place settings so he must know I was with Alisha.

It took another awkwardly long moment for me to realize Alisha was still standing, waiting and I remembered I needed to focus. These people poised their class very carefully so… as the lowest on the social ladder I had certain duties.

I pulled Alisha’s chair out for her and she gave me a grateful nod and sat down. And then I took my own seat and silently dropped my purse between my feet. A bottle of wine was brought out and opened at the table with the pop of the cork and it was poured first in Mr. Santos’s glass and then in Alisha’s and finally mine.

I took a sip, tasting a mellowness I was starting to recognize as a trademark of good wine. The flavors were there, of course. But the alcohol didn’t burn, even if I tasted it.

I put the glass down. I should wait until there was food in my stomach to drink. I had taken my polite sip.

“You wanted to discuss the North block?” Mr Santos asked Alisha as bread was brought around.

I waited to take a piece and when I did, resisted the urge to just shove the soft warm thing in my mouth. It smelled so strongly of butter and yeast. It was going to taste good, but I watched Alisha set hers on her plate and hold her glass of wine in just a few fingers.

I shouldn’t eat yet even if the moisture in my mouth was building and I had to swallow it down.

“Yes, I would like to barter with you for it,” she explained. “I want it back but I feel no need to fight over it.”

His expression was perplexed. “I appreciate that about you,” he stated. “But what could you offer me that would be worth the loss of revenue?”

“I can give you a lump sum payment,” Alisha told him. She took a sip of her wine. “Five years worth of profit from that territory; would that be fair?”

I continued to stare at the bread on my plate. There were steam tendrils gently curling off the glistening butter on top. Why were these people not eating? 

“That would be…” Mr. Santos made some mental calculations. “About a million, yes?”

“Three-quarters,” Alisha corrected. “According to what my captain reported to me.”

The bread was still holding my attention as the words sunk in. I didn’t look up, but I did freeze. I couldn’t gawk if I wanted to fit in with a wealthier crowd, but still… I didn’t know Alisha had a million dollars just lying around. I guess that was what she meant when she said twenty-thousand wasn’t going to be a significant expense. But it raised questions about why her house and her cars weren’t even nicer than they were or why she didn’t have more absurdly luxurious items.

Mr Santos was finally the one to pick up his bread and tear it in half before spreading more butter across the inside.

“But,” he said. “You don’t allow bulk-dealing to unassociated people. Which takes a significant chunk out of your profits.”

Alisha held his gaze for a long moment. “I don’t. Too many overdoses brings attention,” she said very carefully. “But if you’re concerned about a loss of revenue because of that, I can increase the offer to point-eight-five.”

I was finally able to eat my bread, and controlled my expression as I chewed on it. It was soft and pillowy and upheld all of the promises its scent had made. It was difficult to focus on being a pretty companion for Alisha when there was such good food.

As I was chewing, more food was brought to the table through the back door: a large platter of steak and another of shellfish. Shortly after a waiter also brought a bowl of salad out and then went around the table to refill wine glasses.

I waited for Alisha to serve herself, which she did while eyeing the waiter as he left.

“I don’t want to short you,” she told Mr Santos. “I value having a good relationship with you and my other neighbors.”

“Yes, that is why you offered the North block to me in the first place, isn’t it?” he cut a piece of steak into tiny pieces as he said this. “Eight-five… I’ll give it to you for point-nine. Does that sound fair?”

“Sure,” Alisha said. There was a hint of shortness to her voice I caught.

Mr Santos was amused by this. He chewed a piece of meat slowly and I finally braved puting some in my own mouth. 

“Mr Takeno would have never appreciated doing business like this. When I got that call, I thought we were going to end up in a bloody dispute,” he continued on. There was a contentment to his expression.

“I made a mistake,” Alisha stated. “Even if they were across the border.”

“Mm. Your father would have just sent Tyrone and some others of the enforcers to lurk along my borders. It’s a bit flabbergasting that you went the peace offering route, to be honest, over a homeless girl’s head.”

I chewed meat, enjoying the rush of juices tainted with salt and garlic and peppercorn– wait. Homeless girl? Alisha lost the North block over a homeless girl?

I felt my expression was shifted and corrected myself before Mr Santos could notice. 

“My actions were impulsive,” Alisha told him. “I didn’t know I was dealing with another don’s associates and I assure you, I would not have taken the actions I did had I known. The rules are different on your side of the border, but I don’t allow the exploitation of homeless people. It’s one thing if they approach us, but another to drag them off kicking and screaming.”

My stomach hurt, disagreeing with meat and bread and wine suddenly. I wished there was water, but none had been offered and I didn’t know how to ask.

Surely this wasn’t my fault.

“The profits though…” Mr Santos recollected. “You know how much a human body goes for on the market? Dead or alive?”

“I’m well aware,” Alisha told him. “But it draws attention, does it not?”

“Vagrants? Especially those with no papers? No one notices when they disappear, or they’re relieved the scum isn’t rooting around in their garbage and sullying the air with their diseases.”

Ah. Mr Santos was one of those people.

“I would recommend it,” he continued. “You could easily make up the cost of the North block with a few bodies, long as you can find a buyer.”

Alisha’s thin smile was that smile she had when she wanted to stab someone. I didn’t blame her. My appetite was gone, and not just because I had figured out she lost the North block by rescuing me. Not just because Mr Santos seemed to be completely unaware the homeless girl he was talking about exploiting either sexually or by auctioning off in pieces was currently sitting across from him, drinking the same wine and eating the same bread as he was.

It was because the chain of events that had led to me witnessing so much death and dealing with so much fallout and political unrest… had started with me running away.

Alisha kept her calm despite these terrible things. “Perhaps… a different subject would be good. You know my opinions on dragging unassociated people into things,” she said casually.

“If you wish. I just feel you could benefit from reevaluating. Sure it brings some attention but the monetary gain is enough to shut people up when needed,” Mr Santos continued.

“Yes,” Alisha said simply. “But how is your relationship with Mr Koval?”

They then proceeded to discuss more politics I didn’t really follow. The Koval family and the Santos family didn’t get along very well. 

I couldn’t help but think of petty arguments between children. But every so often a reminder of all the pain and suffering I had caused both Alisha and her underlings slid back into my chest. I couldn’t eat anymore. The steak and the bread and even the wine had been delicious, but my stomach was threatening to cough back up anything that I tried to put down. Even after the bill came and Mr Santos waved it away with a card, and Alisha got up and pulled me to her side again, my stomach continued to do its uncertain warbling. Mr Santos gave her another hug, and murmured, “pleasure doing business with you, Alisha,” right into her ear.

And then she left, letting her heels clack even louder on the floor, making diners in the main dining room glance over at us. I shrank into myself as much as I could, purse still clenched in my hands.

Note: This was a long one. Arguably too long and I will continue to be sporadic in updates. Still a lot going on. I am no longer sick, at least.