#ccsemberclub

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An answering service gets a call. "Yes. This is a message for...Mr. Billingsworth. Ms. Dierks would like him to call back as soon as possible. Thank you." A number is left.

It takes a few hours but then the phone rings.

The rapid answer suggests that she was waiting for the phone. "Hello?"

There's a disbelieving pause. "Hello." Jolly and polite.

No pleasure in the tone. "I need to meet with you."

"You..... do?" He sounds knocked sideways.

"Yes."

"Well. Far be it from me to say no... where and when?"

"The warehouse yard?" Clearly, the garden of Firnost. "Or if you have a more private location?"

"Depends on your definition of private I suppose. I can meet you there, and I have a place of business if you'd prefer stronger privacy."

A pause. "Yes. I may have company with me. Someone you know."

"His Majesty?"

"Hm. Perhaps."

"Oh, now I -am- intrigued. My place of business then? Or did you prefer the more familiar environs of the warehouse?"

"Warehouse yard first. We will come to an agreement from there. I am on my way."

------------ Later --------------

Before lunch, the club is closed but that hardly matters to the part owner and honored guests. He leads the way to the back, and into the club's dining room. There's a stage over there, and the club has a lively, warm feel even when dark.

The staff is cleaning and polishing, setting up for the afternoon and evening.

Brekke enters the building with some degree of caution and alertness...but she does follow.

He asks one of them (an enchanted mortal!) to bring them three waters, and makes his way to a corner table where the trolls won't be as cramped.

"Apologies about the size. We're a public business. Do take a seat.... Thank you, my dear." That last to the water-bearing mortal. "We'll want privacy, Mmm? Thank you." As she nods and leaves.

Brekke chooses a sturdy-looking chair and settles into it, still observing the surroundings. "This is yours?"

A slight frown at the enchanted mortal.

Frank sits carefully, noting the mortal as well.

Brekke waits for the water to be brought, taking glasses for herself and Frank from the tray before EBG can choose his.

The wait may make for a longish, awkwardish silence.

She then waits for the server to leave again before speaking.

"Mmm." He agrees, sipping his water. "Just a little project."

She looks to Frank, then back to the boggan. "I still hold you in debt. I would like to discuss settling that matter."

"Again? Very well, how can I be of assistance?"

An eyebrow, and a very brief glance to Frank. She clears her throat. "You are aware of the migrant caravan in Feathered Serpent?"

"Oh yes, very much in the news."

It's possible there's a wistful air as he says this.

She notes this. "What are your thoughts on the situation?"

He sips. "Mm. I wish I were there to help."

"And yet...you are not. Why is that?"

"Retired." with a thin smile.

Frank blinks.

Her brow furrows. "I...see."

"Then I wonder if you will be able to repay the debt...." A frown.

"I've been wondering that for some time." dryly. "I do keep trying."

"-Retired-?" Frank asks carefully. "You paid?"

"I did. Not so difficult, really." Sip.

A curious look between Frank and the boggan.

And some concern as she looks at Frank.

Then she clears her throat and continues. "If it can be done...if you still have ways of helping it to happen...we are invested in seeking help for as many of them as we can. Relocation, papers, opportunity...and not enslavement." A glance towards the enchanted mortal.

"That?" He glances at the woman as well. "Oh, just a little Samhain damage control. Hmmm.... Well, I'd like to stay out of it and away, of course, but I could give you some points of contact."

A frown. "Points of contact. I see."