Chapter 3.9

Ethan and Mr. Dodds watched incredulous at the two running women. Their stomping steps disappearing as they went down.

"Your wife just kidnapped mine." Mr. Dodds turned his unimpressed gaze at the troubled Ethan.

"Yeah… sorry about that." Ethan grimaced and apologize.

Mr. Dodds sighed and then gestured at Ethan to get in the office. Once seated, Mr. Dodds took out a bottle and two cups and served it. Ethan immediately felt the strong smell of alcohol.

It could be counted with one hand the times Ethan had drank. He had shared a few drinks with low alcohol with some women which gave way to some frisky time. Then, there was the time he bought a bottle of ale to drink with his brothers – except Felix, of course, as he had been still a kid. That day they discovered they could not hold alcohol very well.

Finally, there was the one other – and final – time he got very drunk, the time he met Monthe. It happened years ago, when Monthe had not married Vieve. Both were in a low-rate bar in town nursing their own drinks. Monthe had just been rejected by Vieve for the first time, while Ethan had been dumped yet again.

Truthfully, most men in that bar were drowning their romantic sorrows in alcohol.

Some were loud about it, howling their woes, while others silently sipped their drinks. Ethan and Monthe were part of the latter, and sitting next to each other, they often bumped their tankards in a toast. When the warmth of the crude drink invaded Ethan's body, making his gaze swim and his body sway, he decided it was time to leave.

After leaving the money on the counter and nodding at his silent drinking companion, a fight broke out in the bar. Ale flew in the air, tankards too, chairs and tables were broken and loud cursing resounded in the four walls of the decrepit bar. Ethan was pulled back as a fist swung in his direction by a wobbly drunkard who got his face bashed with a tankard.

Ethan looked back at the man who helped him and nodded in thanks. The man grinned and presented himself, "Monthe", before pulling to his full height and fighting his way out of the bar, a staggering Ethan following close behind. From time to time, Ethan also had to throw some badly aimed kicks and weak punches to men who also were elbowing their way out.

The curses got louder and the pungent smell of alcohol suffused the air. Finally, when they made their way out, they stumbled to an alleyway right when the gendarmes arrived at the bar to put order in the place and jail some of the most belligerent men.

Panting, Ethan looked at the burly man and extended his hand, "Ethan," he said. Monthe took it and vigorously shook it. That was how the two guys first met. Since that day, Ethan vowed not to touch a single drop of alcohol in his life anymore.

That was why he accepted the cup from Mr. Dodds with great apprehension.

"Do you have any idea what your wife has just proposed?" Mr. Dodds asked Ethan as he gulped his drink as if it was water and served himself another one.

"I can take a guess." Ethan had been silent while Isabelle schemed on Mr. Dodds, but that did not mean he was not paying attention to what was being spoken.

Mr. Dodds nodded. "Excuse me for being blunt, but you would not be my first option to hire if I were to look for a new waiter." Ethan pursed his lips. He knew what the man meant.

His overall presentation was not the best, especially because he had been running around town looking for a job and having no luck. When he directly asked, some people mentioned there were some physical jobs he could take as he came from a village. Yet, the purpose of his rather rushed and still incomplete education was not to fall in the same hole.

He did not have to be a genius to know why Isabelle thought he was a good candidate for a waiter job though. His decade of experience on his back dealing with all sort of people had to be worth something! So, he was not going to waste the chance she had created for him. He straightened and placidly spoke, imitating Isabelle's way of speech as best as he could.

"I was job hunting today." He even used words he had learned from her. "My appearance is not the most desirable at the moment, but I do have the experience required to handle all kind of people. I have been working since I was ten; I know my fair share of people."

Mr. Dodds raised his eyebrow at the change in attitude from the man in front of him. The clothes were certainly nothing to write about, but his overall appearance – as in, his facial features – were nice enough to make him serve others if he did something about it.

"You must have realized the type of people who come here." Mr. Dodds warned. It was not only common townspeople who ate at the restaurant, those with money and high reputation also visited when they wanted something cheaper but still nice.

"I am aware." Ethan nodded. He had indirectly been working for them his whole life.

As a hay carrier, he supplied rich households and sometimes interacted with the owners themselves. As a cart driver, he dealt with wealthy merchants that wanted goods delivered to other towns whenever they could not do it. As a fruit picker, he worked under the eyes of the master in huge orchards that were not even from Basin Town.

Yes, he knew how hard it was to work under the whip and whims of those with power and money.

"Hm." Mr. Dodds hummed, still not convinced.

Ethan gritted his teeth. "I can also write and count. If that worries you." He threw his last card. Not that he had many. 

Mr. Dodds sighed. He still was not convinced; to be able to write and write did not mean he went to school or was well-learned. But, if Isabelle – who he had also identified as a witty businesswoman – recommended him, then it was worth giving the man a chance. On his own terms, of course!

"I can give you a trial period; for you to get used to the environment here. I won't pay you a salary since you will be in what could be called a 'training period'. That's what I can offer you for the time being. Do you accept?" Mr. Dodds extended his offer.

Never work for free. That was what Ethan's previous boss had advised him. Ethan really did take the advice to heart. Yet, the job in front of him was completely different. He was going to have a salary! A monthly salary! No more being paid daily and depending on how much he worked.

"How long would that 'training period' be?" Ethan narrowed his eyes and asked.

Mr. Dodds smirked. Although not on par with her, this man still had his tricks. "One week." He stated, not willing to keep him working for free for a long time. It was not ethical. Besides, a week was enough to let him know if Ethan was good for the position or not.

Ethan nodded. "Good. I accept." The two shook hands to close the verbal deal.

"Since it's the first time I offer a trial period, you will have to sign a document that expresses your agreement with all the restaurant's conditions. If you're hired, you will sign a formal contract." Mr. Dodds explained, taking out a feather quill pen, ink and paper. "You'll start tomorrow. Come at the ninth hour of the day. We only serve lunch, tea and other snacks. So, you'll get out of work roughly at the nineteenth hour after you're done cleaning. You'll have your own lunch break and tea break."

"Will someone be in charge of my 'training'?" Ethan questioned. In his previous jobs that required some technical work, he was taught the ins and outs of the craft.

"Of course. I'll let the person know beforehand..." Mr. Dodds put the last dot on the document and read it to make sure he had written everything that needed to be covered. "Alright. Here." He, then, slid the paper to Ethan who gingerly took it. Paper was expensive for him, after all.

At first, he was a bit dizzy by the rows upon rows of words, but they were thankfully not as loopy as Isabelle's when she first tried to teach them how to write. Then, he slowly and carefully read each word, pausing and trying out the sound of a new word in his mind. There were some words he definitely had no idea about their pronunciation, much less meaning, but he did not beat himself up for it. Isabelle had told him that as long as he understood the general idea, then he was fine.

He trusted Mr. Dodds would not deceive him with a contract. No matter if it was just for a trial period.

With no question about the 'contract', he faced a new challenge: how to write with a quill pen. He had only done so with chalk, but Ethan did not think Mr. Dodds had chalk or would even allow him to sign with it. Remembering how Mr. Dodds used the tool, Ethan tried to imitate him.

He blushed embarrassed when a drop of ink stained the document. Hearing nothing from the other man, Ethan continued on his task. His hand was shaking, making his words a bit wonky, yet he was able to write his whole name and slid the paper back at the other man.

He sighed relieved when Mr. Dodds accepted the document with a nod. "Perfect. I'll be waiting for you then." After putting the document and the quill away, he took out what seemed to be a small stick and a couple of small paper sheets. "Here. Quill pens seemed to be a bit difficult for you, so you should start with this pencil."

"I can't accept this." Ethan immediately rejected the things. When he had started learning how to write, he had asked around for the price of pencils and papers. Needless to say, he never mentioned it in the house because they could not afford them for the time being.

"I'm not doing charity. I'm investing on you. The better prepared you are for the job, the better for my establishment. You won't make me lose clients because you're too slow writing." Mr. Dodds returned. Ethan was a bit embarrassed by the truth, but it was enough to make him accept the things.

"Thanks. I'll do my best."

"I hope you do."

With those words, the two men shook hands yet again, formally closing the deal.

Meanwhile, at the embroidery shop, the stern figure of the Commissioner and a teen with a holier-than-thou expression on her face arrived.

"We are here for the dress." The deep baritone of the man's voice, made Mrs. Priddy quake in her shoes.

"Right away!" She squeaked before rushing upstairs and bursting into the room where Isabelle was working. "Quick! Quick! Bring it here!" The middle-aged woman demanded right when the younger one finished the last details on the dress. In her rush, Mrs. Priddy just grabbed the dress and carried it down.

Jean and Isabelle shared a look and a smile. Since her job was done, Isabelle started picking up the things she had used: needles, threads and scissors. The room was not a mess, but the table where she had worked at had lots of things around. Jean was doing the same with her work area. She had once again transferred from her room to Isabelle's. Though, she had finished her own work a while back and had just been staring at the process of embroidering the dress.

"I wonder if the Commissioner will like the dress. If he doesn't buy it, I will!" Jean commented.

Isabelle smiled. "You won't fit. You have a nice body."

"You say such nice things!" She squealed delighted. "If I were a man, I would marry you." She blushed after saying that. Isabelle just laughed. Their conversation was cut short when Mrs. Priddy returned, wildly looking around the room.

"Come here!" She spotted Isabelle and quickly grabbed her hand, dragging the younger woman down to the shop. Seeing the other's urgency, Isabelle thought the worst. Had the man not liked the dress? Was Mrs. Priddy washing her hands from the failure and was selling Isabelle as the culprit? "This is the embroiderer, Mr. Commissioner!"

Isabelle's bad thoughts vanished like smoke when she saw the huge smile on the rotund man that gave the impression that he was filling the whole shop. The teen standing beside him was looking at the dress with a very dazzled expression.

"So, it's you!" The man's smile turned even bigger if possible.

Isabelle knew it was nothing bad, but she was still confused at the situation. "I assume you like the dress." She tentatively inquired.

"Like it?!" The teen, most likely the Commissioner's daughter, shrieked. "I love it!" She hardly pressed the dress against her chest. "I was mad that my Daddy had left the dress to such an unknown and lowly shop."

Oh my! So straightforward. Isabelle noticed how Mrs. Priddy's stiffened at the teen's comment while the Commissioner's smile turned strained. It was true the man had power to do anything he liked in town, but he also depended on his reputation. To have it destroyed by his own daughter…

"I'm glad you didn't destroy it, and even made such a wonderful job." School definitely did not leave a mark on the teen. She was so rude. Even Isabelle had difficulty keeping her smile.

The Commissioner could not hold back anymore and pointedly coughed. Luckily, the teen was not so indiscreet and remained silent after her father's prompt. "We're very happy with what you did." He addressed Isabelle. "Such a good job deserves to be rewarded. Here." He took out a bag of coins and gestured at her to take it. "This is extra from the price I already paid for the dress. Also, if you would be amenable to..."

"Thanks a lot for the reward, Mr. Commissioner! With this, I can finally marry and buy land in the village. My agin' parents also needed medicine. You're a very good person!" Although it was a bit rude of her to interrupt the man, Isabelle definitely did not want him to finish his words. She even tried to imitate the brother's accent and way of speaking to come off as a very humble person.

Luckily, the Commissioner caught her intention, or realized what 'kind of person' he was offering his opportunity to, and desisted from his idea.

"Well, then. Have a good day." He nodded to them and herded his daughter out of the shop after the dress was properly packed.

As soon as the two were gone, Mrs. Priddy sighed, but then whirled in Isabelle's direction. "You just rejected the Commissioner's offer."

"I did." The younger woman replied, not affected by the other's accusing tone, bordering on patronizing, and put away the bag of coins.

"But, why?! You could have earned so much more working for them!" The older lady could not understand her reasoning, so Isabelle had no problem in enlightening her.

"Would you work for that girl, Mrs. Priddy?" The older woman stiffened. That was the point. With how condescending that girl was, a person with character (like Isabelle) would suffer working for the Commissioner's family. No matter how good the pay. "What is the commission for this job?" Isabelle instead reminded Mrs. Priddy.

Mrs. Priddy reacted and took out the money that was paid for the dress. "The cost for the embroidery was of 60 coins, minus the materials and what the shop takes…" She calculated as her hands moved to count the money given to her. She went to the back of the shop and returned in less than a minute. "Here, 37 coins."

Isabelle grabbed the money extended to her and put it inside her handmade purse. "Thank you." Nodding, she went back upstairs to finish putting the things away.

When she arrived at the room, everything was in order: all the needles in their place, the threads in a box and even the floor was swept. Then, she noticed Jean was waiting with a suppressed smile. Isabelle immediately knew she wanted to talk about what happened downstairs.

"Even you would say no to that." Isabelle helplessly said.

Jean giggled, but nodded. She got closer and whispered: "Patricia, Amelia and I heard everything. They were very tempted, and would have accepted if given the chance. Amelia even lowly chastised you, saying you were stupid. But, after hearing your words to Mrs. Priddy, they silently went back to their rooms. You should have seen their faces!"

Isabelle shook my head at Jean's way to entertain herself. Though, a smile did creep into her face just imagining the timid but upright woman scurrying away. She did not know who Amelia was, so she refrained from commenting on her labeling as stupid.

"I do kind of wonder how her fiancé will react to her." Not only Isabelle had the misfortune of interacting with the daughter, even the son looked like someone hard to deal with. If she ever worked for that family… Just the thought made her shudder.

"Talking about fiancé. Are you really going to make your future husband work at the restaurant?" Jean asked as they made their way down.

"Are you saying it is a bad idea?" Isabelle glanced at her.

Jean shook her head. "No, it's just… Working in a restaurant is really tiring. My dear husband always arrives home very tired."

I bet he does.

Mr. Dodds really knew how to enjoy his married life. With how much of a shark he was, Isabelle would not be surprised if he also pretended to be tired to get some cuddles from Jean. But that was between them.

I just have to make sure my own witty fox does not learn bad habits from that man.