[D1 EA] This Heart Attack

[Chantelle Rossette]

"It woul' be my pleasure, beb," Chantelle cooed, "do you 'ave somewhere to stay?"

[Jack Doyle]

"There's a shelter nearby." he nodded.

[Chantelle Rossette]

The mask pursed its painted lips, "mais, dat's 'ardly propa. I daresay you shoul' stay wit me a spell."

[Jack Doyle]

"I couldn't do that." he sook his head. "Not without paying you in some way."

[Chantelle Rossette]

There was something almost motherly about Chantelle’s tone and expression, maybe it was Jack’s size, “you can repay me by findin’ a betta place to live dan de shelta.” After a moment, she chuckled and added, “an’ by makin’ yourself scarce if I need de place to myself. I don’ ‘ave a lo’ of room, bu’ you don’ look like you ta’ up much space.”

[Jack Doyle]

He nodded. "That's very true. But, I may look for other ways to repay you."

He glanced down at her shoes.

[Chantelle Rossette]

Dipping her beak, Chantelle sipped the cider. “Mais, I tell you what, you come an’ see me tomorrow, an’ we’ll shake on it.” Now that the young woman had touched the fae, she knew that words had true weight, and a promise of exchange was as good as a contract in blood.

[Jack Doyle]

"Where should I find you?" he asked.

[Chantelle Rossette]

Chantelle produced a scrap of paper and a pen from her purse and quickly wrote down the address. Her handwriting was very neat. She slid the paper towards Jack, “‘ere,” she smiled kindly.

[Jack Doyle]

"Thank you, miss." He accepted it with a smile. "I will find you tomorrow."