Guts And Glory

ACT III: CHAPTER NINE: THIRD EYE

"Bridget," Piper says, arms crossed lightly beneath her breasts, turning to face her heir-whom is standing tall, having found her comfort zone after numerous conversations with Eric about becoming something that Piper needs, a piece in a puzzle that will never be quite complete-wanting advice from someone who is prepared to be unbiased: Finn will agree to anything as long as the endgame is still the same, Eric is far too cynical, Harriet is more concerned with not insulting Piper if she was to have a different opinion-Bridget, however, understands her role, has embraced it on levels that Piper hadn't been prepared for so soon, and will approach situations logically, as all of this sets her up for her reign. "Close the door behind you."

Piper's office is an exact replica of her old one, white walls, grey features, and black furniture-no colours to become distracted by or confuse the true intent. Bridget's curls are down today, unruly hair framing her small face, as her smile is polite, posture stiff, poise intact. As the door clicks behind her, words from other workers falling silent, saving Piper from having to listen to workplace gossip between tasks being completed-not much care about a Bobbie getting pregnant or a George Watson receiving a raise, even after his twin has died, poor soul-Piper turns back to face the city she controls, of which no decisions have been made yet, nothing of importance other than boring bookkeeping which isn't what Piper signed up for.

"A legislation is going to pass tomorrow," she begins, hands briefly tightening around her elbows, before she forces herself to relax and drop her arms to her sides. Bridget stands at her side, having the common sense to look out of the window, too, rather than stand facing Piper-ever the fast learner that she is. "Which will reimburse millions to 'old' families. I'm going to go on camera-on the record-and say it is to cement their presence in Britain, as a thanks for what they've done for this country. In response, I will be asked what about other families, smaller names which haven't done anything other than birth more to a name they can't afford and . . . I will say that a family name leads to good upbringing. In the same way I am a tenth generation child of William's, and Finn's family sire from a Noble in France-they will ask you what you have to offer. Do you understand what I'm saying, Bridget?"

"I-ah, um-yes. I think so."

"Great," Piper turns back towards her desk, preparing for meetings involving a potential endorsement into her fashion line. "The adoption papers are waiting on your desk. If you can get them faxed over before six then it'll be done by tomorrow morning."

***

Veronica Kosovo is an experienced host. Her luncheons operate on a fortnightly basis, an 'informal'-the word a push for what truly occurs-social gathering wherein wives in high places with higher partners congregate in the tea room at Veronica's manor-surrounded in a backdrop of sprawling hills and natural wildlife, Piper had had to tap Bridget's jaw closed-to do what an outsider would dub as idle chat and gossip, but is truly navigating through dark deeds and social alignments which only lead to further success.

Veronica-Piper's mentor-has built not only a fashion empire known worldwide, but a deep rooted standing in a society which is changing over hands to Piper's very own palms.

She greets them in the foyer, arms enveloping Bridget like an old friend-smile so cordial it's cutting-offering their bags and coats to a member of staff waiting nearby. "I'm glad you could make it, Piper," she says, a conspiratorial wink given to Bridget, a shared understanding of Piper's work ethic, which comes out number one above many things. "I was expecting a call about how things had come up at work, and you were no doubt ever so busy. I know how much you hate leaving the office when there's still work to be done."