“WHAT? You want me to call it quits with your debt to me in exchange for your help to get me out of here?” Weeden asked Ruru in disbelief.

“Didn’t I say it clearly?” Ruru asked sarcastically. “As far as I know, I don’t have a speaking disorder.”

The man scowled at her. “And, do you think I am going to agree with your absurd idea?” he laughed mockingly. “A hundred thousand worth of painting in exchanged for your simple help? Ridiculous.”

Ruru shrugged her shoulders. “Then, we won’t make a deal.” She beckoned for Miko to open the gate. “This popular man will go out all by himself.”

“Ten-four, Ma’am Ruru,” Miko said and was about to open the door when Weeden spoke.

“Half of the price, and it’s a deal,” he said, stopping Miko’s hand from holding the door handle.

“Half?” Ruru laughed. “I’m asking for the whole, Mister,” she said and propped her hands on her waist. “Because I believed that it wasn’t all my fault why your painting got ruined. You pulled the thing from me forcefully. That’s why my hand slipped on the frame and fell on the cloth.”

Weeden glared at her. “That kind of explanation is unacceptable in court—”

“We’re not in court. You’re here inside my funeral parlor, stranded because of the excited people outside the door,” Ruru smirked, followed by another shout from the outside saying that they’re still waiting for Walter Chandonne to come out and see them. “Did you hear that, Walter? Can you hear the voices of your die-hard fans shouting your name outside?” Ruru raised her hand and signaled Miko to open the door. “Don’t you want to see your fans, Walter?”

“Shut up,” Weeden said and caught his head. “They’re not my supporter. Je ne suis pas Walter!”

The loud talks outside suddenly fell silent, then after just a few seconds, they all roared Walter’s name. The man speaking in French just made their noises louder.

It was Ruru’s time to laugh mockingly. “To deal or not to deal, Mr. Chandonne? Whole or Crowd?”

The man looked at her sharply. “I can’t believe I’ll be having a deal with a woman like you,” he said gravely. “What’s your name again? Ruru?” He made a ‘tss’ sound. “Sounds like a con artist—”

“If you keep on insulting me, I will tell my security guard to pull the door opened,” Ruru threatened him. “Try me, Mr. Chandonne.”

Meri nudged her in the waist. “Are you really going to do that, Ma’am Ruru?”

“You’re still a newbie here, Meri,” Emong butt in. “Ma’am Ruru will do as she says. There wasn’t a time yet that she broke her own words.”

Ruru raised an eyebrow at Weeden, who looked threatened with what her employee said. “So, what now?” She looked at her old big ben clock. “We’re running out of time. We have a client that will arrive at one p.m.”

When Meri looked at her in a knotted forehead, Ruru warned her with a glare. Her employee scratched the corner of her brow and agreed with what she said. “I should clean the corpse storage for our clients,” she said and went to the back door.

The man crossed his arms on his chest. “What is my assurance that you will keep your promise to help me get out of here?”

She laughed. “Assurance? Dude, if I didn’t help you to get out, then the agreement is void. Easy as that!”

“I want to know first how you will help me to get out of this…” He looked around and flinched when he stopped in the direction of her over-flowing lucky charms and figurines around the lobby. “… suffocating place.”

“Hey, Mr. Chandonne, I’m starting to lose my patients at your arrogance,” she said thoughtfully. “I don’t like the things that come out in your mouth. Are you straight, huh?”

The man looked at her in disbelief. “What did you say?”

Ruru arched a brow. “Are you straight or not?” she repeated. She heard the snorts of her two male employees from her back. “Are you gay?”

“What’s makes you say that?” He shook his head. “Look at me? Is this the look of not straight for you?”

“Hey, stop stereotyping. Anyone can wear what they want. And, their fashion style doesn’t describe them as a person,” Ruru explained in furrowed brows.

“Then what made you questioned my sexuality?” he asked with an arched brow.

Ruru exchanged a measuring gaze with him. “Because of the way you criticize me and everything here!” she said, getting pissed off. “You even criticize my skin, my face, and my body. So what do you think a woman like me thought about you?” she smirked. “You’re not straight—”

Weeden hooked his hand on the back of her neck, lowered his head, and gave her lips a wild, wet, French kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth and explore her. He counted up to three before he let go of her neck.

Ruru couldn’t believe what just happened to her. As soon as the man let go of her lips, she lost her balance and almost fell on the floor if her hand didn’t grasp on the desk. Emong and Miko just looked at them, both wearing an expression of shock and confusion.

“Gays wouldn’t kiss a woman like that, right? They don’t use their tongues to pleasure a woman’s mouth.” Weeden told her softly. He stepped closer to her. “I can do more than that. I can prove to you that I am a straight guy and can give all your carnal needs. I can satisfy you with just my hand—”

Ruru slapped his face. The man caught his face, startled by the impact of her hand. “Damn you!” she shouted and grabbed the potted money tree at the reception desk, but again Emong stopped her arm. “You’re a pervert! Get out of here! Miko, open the door and dragged this man outside before I embalm him alive!”

***