Epsd 2

"Bisila? So it's been you all this damn time. What did I say?" Bradley growled.

"Am I in trouble, Godfather?" she wondered, smirking.

"You've been making a fool out of me, and I still took you in as Patrick Smith? What can I do with you, child?"

"Forgive me and let me come back and stay with you. Please, Godfather."

"Have you changed?" inquired Bradley with a demanding face.

"Yeah."

"When was that, child?"

"Today. This morning."

"Get out of my sight, Bisila," began the old gentleman as he walked up from his seat.

"You have lost it already."

"Get out, you piece of..." he said as Bisila set off running out of the room to the yard, then through the gardens out of a small gate as Bradley continued limping after her.

"I don't ever want to see you again around my farm, you little rascal," yelled the old grey.

"Sorry Mr. Bradley. I will ask for your permission next time I return," responded she, chuckling.

"I will slaughter you like a Guinea pig if I ever see you again," replied Bradley, closing his little farm gate and heading back inside. "What's with this little girl?" he said, chuckling to himself.

Walking through the streets as she aimed for where she was heading. A bar that faced her was just a couple of meters away. She was looking into her pocket that blazed through the payment she had just received.

At the bar entrance, she stood gazing up at the bright poster that read,

**DONNIE AND THE BAR.**

On the inside, a couple of gentlemen were seated all around with bottles of booze. There was a conversation going on around them, mostly questioning where Bisila was.

"You're probably bullying someone," snapped one gentleman as the rest chuckled at his statement.

"You wish, don't yah?" replied she, heading inside the bar as all the gentlemen turned to gaze at how she was dressed. "Hey Donnie?"

"Speaking of the devil. Why are you dressed like a male worker, Bisila?" inquired old Donnie behind the counter.

"Oh. It's a long story," replied she.

"We love stories. Who was the victim today?" One gentleman joked as the rest cheered.

"Mr. Bradley," she answered.

"Not the old man again," crunched Donnie as Bisila sat at a stool near a gentleman who had nearly snapped or chuckled at any joke that was said.

He wore a long black goofy hat that covered almost his face, snake scaled boots that gave away his expensive status to the rest of the men in the bar.

On his thumb sat a cobra ring, as Bisila recognized it from his beer sip. His palm on the table appeared to be rather soft for a hardworking man. His eyes were very dark and deep inside, though he did seem of age and handsome.

"Hello!" snapped Bisila at him.

"Hi," he responded, in a very strong, gruff voice.

"Tell us about it already," snapped the blonde young guy who walked in next to her as Donnie sent her a glass full of beer.

"Has anyone heard about Andrew James junior?" asked a bold, tall guy who had snapped Bisila inside.

"John James's young son who left for England ten years ago?" inquired the blonde boy as the rest set their ears ready to take in the conversations.

"Yeah, The young boy arrives in two days with his wife. Rumors say she is a very beautiful musician from England. Her name, um... what was it? What was it?" The bold guy recalled what the old guy next to Bisila said.

"Anna Witherspoon."

"Yes, yes, Anna Witherspoon."

"So, why tell us about them, Travie?" I sipped Bisila drippingly.

"Well, because You are not yet married, Bisila. The one man we all thought could take and manage to steal your heart is getting back with a wife. We've all tried, but it seems you're not interested, are you?"

"Ya'll are like fathers and brothers to you. Now look at you, Travie. I might be years older than you."

"Well age is just a number, isn't it?" chuckled Travie taking his glass up as all the boys cheered.

"Alright, It's late. and ya'll are men. I don't know what any of you would do to me, but I will just head home early to avoid any temptations."

"I will take you." offered the blonde guy.

"Why would you do that, Daglous, so you would have me to yourself alone?" she laughed.

"No no no."

"I will walk with you, dear. Would you mind if I walked with you, just us two?" asked the goofy-hat gentleman.

"No. I wouldn't, if only you behaved," replied Bisila.

"Well, that's my middle name." answered he.

"Oh sorry Daglous, the old guy won the race. Maybe tomorrow," smirked she, as the gentleman laid out his arm for her to roll on.

"You're very trendy, aren't you, Ms. Bisila?" They questioned the old gentleman as they walked out of Donnie's.

"I'm I?"

"Oh yes, you are. Would you mind if I asked you a question? Perhaps questions?" inquired the man, tapping on Bisila's hand that was put around his.

"Sure. Go on."

"Do you just hang around every human without being conscious of your safety?"

“Oh Mister James, I know who you are. That’s why I decided to take a walk with you," she replied, with a stingy smile on her face. "Who said you're any good at disguise? Everyone at Donnie's had already recognized you."

“You think?” I’m very positive about it. Why would they start talking about James Junior out of nowhere? What would you want from me, though? Because I’m quite sure they’ve told you about me and I'm not interested at all."

"I promise, nothing I’ve heard about you is interesting to hear, but anyway, I did ask for this walk because I wanted to hire you. As my lady caretaker for James junior’s wife," Tripping over the rim of a tire, she stood in shock. "And who told you I would take up that job anyway?"

"Well, I’m good at disguising myself. I’ve been watching you for a week now. I know where you stay and all, and where you’re not supposed to stay."

“What do you mean?"

"I mean, this job will benefit you and me too. As you heard, the lady arriving at Arms Ville is a very popular and beautiful lady. All my servants are male except Lady Matilda, whom, in this case, my wife won’t share with anyone else. So, I had to find someone better for the lady."

“And something told you I would be suitable for that job?”

“No! I just think you’re hard-headed, stubborn, and mostly, I will be comfortable with someone like you around the house."

"I want to be honest with you, Mister James senior. I know how troublesome I can be. I can’t help, it’s a disease."

“The interview is done then. You’re hired. Come to my mansion tomorrow. I will be waiting for you. So, we discuss how much you are supposed to get paid."

"What exactly do you want?"

“Have a good night, miss." Bisila."

The gentleman walking past her replied.

“Have a good night, Mr. James."

“See you tomorrow."

“Yeah, sure.” She snapped gently as she jumped up the Thompsons' fence. As sneaky as she could get, in about a few minutes, she was already up the arc of the big house. I slowly pushed the roof open, jumping onto a cracking bed that made an awkward sound. "Quietly, you cozy thing." She lay down facing the roof, silent to think about Mr. James’ proposal, gazing at her surroundings. Through the thoughts came the sleep that had her rise in the morning to the sight of an old gentleman sitting right next to her.

"Hi!" she exclaimed, startled, as old Mr. Thompson grimaced. “Hello Miss. Peterson. I bet you had a lovely weekend. How long has it been since you started residing in my mansion without my consent?”

"I can explain, Mr. Thompson," she said, but she was still escorted out by the old man's caretakers.

"She needs to be set as an example for boys. Tie her up on the stake. and she will be beaten up," explained the old gentleman. 

"But that's too much of the cruelty, Mr. Thompson. It's not like I asked to be the heiress of your big house," muttered she was being pulled out.

It wasn't so long ago when the Armsville's emergency bell rang so hard that everyone found themselves getting to the stake station.

They were all worried about her, tightly bound at the stake tree, waiting for her beating.

"We're all aware of her reputation around Armsville," said the old Thompson guy. "She is going to be punished as she deserves.

It was when she was getting started with her beating that Mr. James loudly called on the men to stop.

"Can't you see that is a woman?" He said he was getting through the people as they all paved the way in respect, muttering his surname.

"You can't interfere in this, Mr. James." said the old man, pointing at him.

"Yes, of course I can Mr. Thompsons. The lady over there is my employee, sir. Can we settle this as respectable men? And please let your men tie her down."

"Get her off the stake, Bruno," said Mr. Thompsons to one of his men. "Walk with me, Mr. James."

And it was all of a sudden that the show had ended for the villagers. Amongst the many, many wanted her to be given out as an example of her behavior.

"Your employee, you say?" inquired Mr. Thompson with his hands in the back.

"Yes. If I may repeat myself, She rather admires the roof of your house, and I believe she was studying it last night when she accidentally slept at your place. She thinks your architecture was an excellent one."

"Yes, of course," he answered, convinced.

"She believed so, tell her. she would never be allowed back into my home without my permission."

"I will make sure of that." answered James, grabbing Bisila by the shoulder, who was terrified about what she had luckily missed. They were both walking briskly towards Mr. James's horse carriage when she suddenly snapped.

"You told on me, didn't you?"

"Sometimes we get what we want the easy way or the hard way."

"I almost got hit, old man," she snagged, feeling her shoulder.

"Well. You didn't. Now you're coming with me."