Chapter 49: The Placeholder

Quentin was still half asleep when he realized something was wrong. He wasn’t alone in his bed. There was another person there, curled up against his chest and breathing steadily. Without opening his eyes he knew it was Razia, and that alone stopped him from jolting awake in a panic. His eyes slowly opened and sure enough it was her, all but curled up into a ball with her face pressed up against him. One of his arms was draped around her. Just a few weeks ago, this would’ve made him freak out. Laying there with her in his plush bed, it was hard to be concerned. It was hard to be anything other than appreciative, even when his memories finally caught up to him and reminded him why she was there.

Nothing had happened, they just slept. With all of the girls staying at his place, space was at a premium. Lucy got Razia’s bed, and Lynne was in there with her in case she needed anything when she woke. Samantha and Tricia were in Tricia’s temporary room, while Jenna took the lounger. Isa, as could be predicted, chose to leave late at night rather than staying with everyone else. It was entirely innocent when Razia suggested sharing his bed, and Quentin had been tired enough to not think anything of it.

It didn’t change much for him. At least theoretically. He didn’t strip all the way down, and out of respect for him Razia didn’t either. The bed was big enough that they’d started the night out on opposite ends. Somewhere along the line Razia pressed herself up against him, and in his sleep Quentin hadn’t fought it. Now that he was awake, Quentin found he couldn’t really complain.

There was an odd peace in watching Razia sleep, her face just inches away from him. It wasn’t as if he didn’t look at her. She’d be the first to tease him about how much he looked, and he was long since past trying to deny his attraction to her. But it wasn’t just about her looks. Laying in bed together, Quentin realized this was the first time he’d truly seen her at rest. Razia was always so active, so bouncy and energetic. There was never a time she wasn’t thinking or scheming or goading others on. Until now.

It wasn’t to last for long. Her breathing shifted, and a few seconds later her eyes fluttered open. When they focused on him, a wide smile spread across her face. “Hey,” she said, still sounding half asleep.

“Hey,” Quentin echoed, finding himself smiling as well.

She stretched, and Quentin found the sight more than a little distracting. Something she realized quickly, judging from the satisfied look on her face. “Sleep well?”

“Better than expected,” Quentin admitted. “You always this clingy when you sleep?”

Her smile turned wicked. “No. Usually clingier. Why, was it too much? Should I back away?” She nestled up closer to him, throwing her leg over his.

Quentin didn’t answer. His face heated up, as per usual, but he was becoming immune to her teasing. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, and all of the usual whispers were silent that morning. Quentin was struck with the impulse to throw caution to the wind and kiss her. Nothing big, nothing serious. Just a kiss, just to see how she’d react.

He thought about it long and hard until the moment passed and he realized he was staring at her. Her warm brown eyes were locked on his. She looked amused. Quentin shrugged, raising up in bed until he was sitting. Razia joined him a second later. “Was it too much?” she asked. “I’m trying not to push. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” There was more space between them now.

“What do you want?” Quentin asked, mouth suddenly dry. “I’ve never been able to figure that out.”

Razia chuckled. “It varies from moment to moment. You know what I really want right now?” she asked, voice dropping to a husky whisper.

Quentin swallowed. “What?”

“Breakfast!”

Oh. “Yeah, I could probably eat,” Quentin admitted. He searched her face for what she might’ve been thinking, anything that could give him a clue. But she was awake now, and the serenity was gone, replaced with her casual mischief and playfulness. He had his chance, and he second guessed himself until it was gone. “I don’t know how we’re doing on groceries, so it might be good to send someone out to get food.”

“Pretty low,” said Razia. “We could probably convince Sam and Trish to go out. Neither of them are used to eating this well. Tricia will probably be eager to try new things. Assuming you don’t just want some Mooran noodles. Again.”

Quentin’s face heated up. “Look, I know what I like and I’m a creature of habit. Noodles are always good.”

Razia let out a dramatic sigh. “You’d be surprised at how good things can be if you break out of your comfort zone once in a while,” she said. There was no special emphasis, no look she gave him, but her words still pierced his brain and made Quentin want to kick himself. He should’ve kissed her.

“Maybe,” Quentin said with a shrug. “I’m not good at doing that. Maybe I need more of a push.”

“Or maybe,” Razia stood, stretching again. “Maybe you need to push yourself and make an active choice to do something different. How will you know what you like and want if you don’t try things on your own? I’m going to go get dressed.” She paused, then leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead before leaving.

“Stupid,” Quentin cursed himself, burying his face in his hands. What did he want? It was one of the first things she asked him a month ago, and he didn’t have an answer then. He wasn’t sure he had an answer now. It wasn’t sex. Not in and of itself. If Quentin wanted that, Samantha would’ve been happy enough to indulge him and he was pretty certain she wouldn’t laugh at him or mock him either. What he wanted, Quentin couldn’t put into words other than…more.

He stayed in his room a bit longer, fighting with his thoughts before finally getting dressed and coming out to the main room. Most of the girls were still asleep, though Jenna was awake and talking to Razia on the lounger. The door to Tricia’s room was open and the room was empty, so breakfast was likely being taken care of.

“Boss-man!” Jenna called out, waving to him. Quentin raised a hand in return and joined them there. Jenna hadn’t taken her makeup off before going to bed, and her face was a bit of a mess, though she looked perfectly happy and comfortable. “You have a wonderful home. I’m afraid whatever place we get isn’t going to be half as good. Any chance we could just work out of here?”

The very idea made his eye twitch. “No,” Quentin said slowly. “I’d rather not have a ton of strangers coming in and out of my home every night.”

Jenna shrugged. “Had to ask. If I stay here for much longer, I’m gonna be spoiled. You feeling okay after last night?” She motioned to his face.

The aches and pains were there, of course, but Quentin had already almost forgotten the brawl from last night, and how much of a mess he must have looked. He frowned. “Finding a place is probably not going to be easy looking like this,” he said.

“I’m sure your charming personality will take care of things,” Razia said, grinning at him.

Quentin snorted. “It won’t have to. Orchrisus is too big and changes too quickly to just go around and see if people are willing to sell a place to us. I’ve got someone who will handle the worst of it for us.”

“Ahh, you got a guy,” said Jenna, nodding.

“Sort of.”

The guy was Linda Velaski, a short woman who was comfortably middle aged and with a savvy, cunning look to her. Whatever she thought of Quentin’s disheveled appearance, she kept it to herself. As soon as they were in her office, she stood up and greeted them with, “Oh, I remember you. Quintius, yes? I figured I would either see you again very soon, or never again. I was wrong on both counts. Come in.”

Razia looked between the two with interest. “Are you the person who got Quentin his house?”

Linda puffed up with pride. “I am. And with minimal interest, I might add. A big house like that, going to a…unique bachelor?” She shook her head, but she was smiling. “I’m a miracle worker. He’s lucky he had enough for the down payment, or they never would’ve parted with the property. Did you know that we’re still having trouble selling the home next to yours?”

“I didn’t,” said Quentin. “What’s the trouble with it? It’s identical to my home, isn’t it? I would’ve thought it would’ve sold a while ago.”

“It would, if you weren’t next door.” Linda’s smile was toothy and unapologetic. Quentin always appreciated how blunt the woman was, even when it made him feel like shit. “We’re not supposed to give details about the neighbors, but some of my colleagues have made it clear what you are and that’s scared off prospective buyers.”

Razia cleared her throat. “You’ll have to forgive me,” she said in a voice that held no apology, “but how exactly does it work in Orchrisus? Why would your colleagues talk about Quentin?”

Linda gestured for them to sit and took the seat behind her desk. Her office was very much lived in, with abstract art hanging on the walls and large green plants to either side of her desk. She steepled her fingers together and wet her lips, choosing her words carefully. “We work on behalf of Orchrisus, managing properties. The land belongs to the Emperor and is taxed based on value and use. People like me facilitate the purchases of properties and take a cut based on those payments. When someone fully pays off their property, it makes us quite happy and prosperous. If people have reason to leave early and we have to re-sell it, we lose out on shards. Many people are choosy about who their neighbors are, and times have been getting tough. There haven’t been any families or high end businesses with the money and the will to join your neighborhood.”

“You say that like it’s Quentin’s fault,” said Razia. There was an edge to her voice Quentin appreciated.

“It’s not my fault but it’s my responsibility,” he said. To Linda he nodded and said, “I’m very appreciative you were willing to take a risk on me and get me my home. I’ve no desire to move.”

Linda inclined her head. “I’m happy to hear it. It’s always nice to have a client pay off their property at a blistering pace. If you’re not here for a new home, what are you here for?”

Quentin motioned for Razia to do her thing. Razia sat up straight and, after a clear moment of fixing herself up to sound kinder and less on edge, launched into it. “We’re looking to buy a place to open a business. We need something large, with enough room to entertain dozens of people while being in a relatively good area.”

“Certainly,” said Linda. “What’s the business?”

Razia and Quentin shared a look. “We’re opening a whorehouse,” Razia answered.

Linda’s mouth froze in a surprised but understanding O. She nodded, clearly choosing her next words carefully. “Alright. So you’re looking for an inn or something similar with decent foot traffic and an easy to find location. That’s doable, but…”

“But?” Quentin prodded.

“It’s not going to be cheap. Look, Quintius,” she said, sighing. “I’m gonna be honest with you. This is a crap time to start a business. The kind of property you’re after is going to be expensive. As in, three or four times the cost of your home expensive. And as much as I may be fond of clients who pay…You’re gonna need a helluva lot more principle this time.”

That was the easy part, as far as Quentin was concerned. He lived well, but nowhere near above his means. After paying off his house there was a full five years of saving up money, and then there was the prize from the Blooming. “Alright,” said Quentin. “Give me a price.”

“Three thousand aquilos for an average sized inn.”

You could’ve heard a pin drop in the ensuing silence.

“Good one,” Razia said, forcing a laugh. “How much are they really?”

Linda shrugged, spreading her hands wide. “I told you, it’s a crap time to start a business. You would’ve been better off starting next season when the rains come and the river rises. A time of excess like that, I might be able to get you a place for 2500, or maybe even 2000 if you don’t mind having to fix it up a bit. You want a place now, that’s what it’s going to cost you. And because I know I can trust you, you won’t have to put more than a thousand down.”

Quentin flinched. There was having good savings, and then there was being wealthy. He caught Razia’s eye and saw the question there: was that doable, or no? He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “A thousand down, you say?”

Linda nodded. “That’s right. With a going rate of 30 aquilos paid every season for the next 20 years. Or sooner, if you make like you did with your house and pay it off early. But that’s not your only worry.”

“It’s not?”

“We’d also have to outfit the place,” Razia said, nodding along. “Making sure it’s safe and usable, then decorating it.” Though the price was still outrageous, this was the part she excelled at. “That’s making sure the kitchen is stocked with food and drink, each room is fit with a bed and made comfortable, general building maintenance, security…”

“And don’t forget taxes based on your business,” Linda continued for her. “And a license to run it. It all adds up, Quintius. There’s a reason most people don’t open their own business and just work for others until the day they die. You want to make a profit? You’re gonna have to dig your way out of a hell of a hole first. Still want to do it?”

Did he? The cost made him balk, but one look at Razia’s face and he knew he couldn’t say no. Not without at least trying to make it work. “Can we have a moment to confer?” Quentin asked.

Linda stood up from behind her desk. “Sure. I could use a smoke anyway. Take a few minutes.” She walked past them and out of her office, closing the door behind her.

“We don’t have to do this,” was the first thing out of Razia’s mouth. “I already owe you over a hundred. We could just pick a couple of inns and work out of them. With those chucklefucks no longer after me, we could set down some roots and get regular customers. Wait until summer and then try again.”

The prospect was enticing. A thousand aquilos down, with another two thousand paid over the course of two decades. At no point in Quentin’s life had he ever planned ahead more than a few months. This was the first time since he was a child that he even thought about having a future, let alone worried about what to do with it. The idea of committing himself so thoroughly was genuinely terrifying.

“I can afford it. Technically,” Quentin hedged. “As open as I’ve been with you, I’m not going to tell you how much I have.”

“I understand,” said Razia.

“But,” he continued, “I can say that if I needed to, I could buy it and outfit it without going broke. We’d be able to run for at least a few months before needing to worry.”

A storm passed over Razia’s face. Quentin couldn’t remember a time when she looked so conflicted, so frustrated. Not even when their plan to get Maria out failed. She took a deep breath and said, “Why are you willing to help me like this? This isn’t what you wanted to do with your life.”

“No,” said Quentin, “it wasn’t. But it’s looking pretty good to me now. Like it or not I’ve got half a dozen of you girls relying on me, and I’ve grown fond of you all. I literally don’t have anything better to do with my time other than lying around, moping and drinking. And we both saw how pathetic I can be when I do that.”

Razia smiled, but the smile disappeared quickly as if she was ashamed of finding it funny. She nibbled on her lower lip as she was thinking. “I don’t know that I do nearly enough for you to justify how much you do for us. Not for lack of trying. You frustrating bastard.”

That familiar low heat spread over his cheeks. “You’ve kept things interesting and have shown me some fun. Just…Don’t stop pushing me.” Please, he silently implored her.

Her smile reappeared, wider now. She reached out for his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “I can probably do that. Problem is, Mr. Q, I never know if I’m pushing too hard.”

Neither did he. “Figure it out,” he said, the corners of his lips twitching.

The door opened and they separated, sitting up in their seats. Linda gave them an inscrutable look and sat back down behind her desk. “Well?” she asked, “what’s it going to be, Quintius?”

It would be easy to say no, not yet. To take Razia’s easy out and wait until summer, when he could probably get a place for cheaper. But then he thought of Darriq, and how easy it was to be caught in a bad spot and get the girls hurt. He thought about the headache that came with having to skip the first couple of places due to overcrowding or not enough patrons. They needed a place of their own.

“I think,” said Quentin, “I’d like to see some of the properties first.”

“Absolutely,” Linda nodded with approval. “And lucky for you I like you and no one else needs my time. Shall we?”