29

29
It’s been quiet. No calls. No missions other than my original mission. But I’ve completed. With this promotion, I’ll have access to the files the agency wants. It sits on a flash drive—the weapon blueprints. But after that? I’ll have to leave, won’t I?

I set aside my laptop and start cleaning the house. I hurriedly ordered some more decorations—something to make it feel lived in. More human, like hers.

At least I’m in a better house now. I would’ve hated for her to come to the last place.

She’s working today, but she told me she’d drop by to have dinner, and a drink.

It sounds so…intimate. A dinner and a drink at mine. She brings the wine, I’m making dinner. Will I have to leave this behind?

I clear my mind of that. It does no good to worry excessively about the future. Who knows if I’ll even get there.

I fret over what to wear, what to cook, and the hours tick by. We’ve known each other for 2 years going on 3. I remember when I first saw her.

She’d walked by my apartment when I was walking home from the convenience store, too lazy to drive there. We bumped into each other, and something about her eyes…

They drew me in.

“I’m Scarlet.”

“Dawson. Are you okay?”

She’d stared at me for a bit, and then took my pen from behind my ear, grabbed my hand and wrote down her address on my palm.

“You’re cute. Come over if you wanna have a good time. I got nothing else to do.”

I don’t know why I went. Maybe it’s because I’d seen her before. I’d see her occasionally on my way to work. In the grocery store. I would give her a passing glance, note that she lived around here, but not much else.

Maybe I already liked her then.

I settle on roast chicken, green beans and mashed potatoes. It’s classic, hard to go wrong with a classic. I labour over the meal, carefully cater the palate, smelling each seasoning before I add it to the mix.

I smell it every once in a while, make sure it’s right. 

By the time dinner is ready, I’m rushing to get dressed. I shower, do my hair spritz cologne, looking over my house again, and light a candle.

I look over my handiwork in admiration. 

Then I glare at my phone willing it not to ring. Not to ruin this one good thing.

The doorbell rings startling me. 

“Coming!”

She smiles a black dress and a bottle of wine in her hand. “Don’t you look handsome.”

“It’s nothing,” I look away my ears warm. “You look beautiful, as always. Come in. Come in. Dinners almost ready.”

“Will you mind drinking with me? I’ve had a long day at work.”

I grin, and offer her a seat on the couch. “Of course, let me get some glasses.”

I check on my chicken and grab too wine goblets. 

“Your place is beautiful. It’s as spotless as I’d imagined.” She calls from the living room. 

“I didn’t know you’d imagined it,” I chuckle. “I’m honored.”

“You and your sly tongue,” 

I enter the room. And set the glass on the table. 

“I don’t really have people over. I’m not a…guest kind of guy.”

She smiles and opens the wine, pouring two healthy glasses. I raise my brows. “Very rough day, huh?”

She scoffs. “The worst. My boss is breathing down my neck about an impossible deadline—the way she always is. Get it gone quicker! You’re taking too long!” She gulps down her glass. “I’m mean, I’m only human!”

I take a sip too and shake my head. “It’s insidious how much productivity companies expect these days.”

Nice to know the agency isn’t the only shitty place to work. 

I finish my glass and she pours us both a second, less this time. My timer beeps.

“You’re so punctual.” She remarks with amusement from the couch, as I grab my oven mitts.

“But of course. If you’re not on time you’re late. If you’re late you miss important things.”

“Ha. What a strict way of thinking. It’s interesting to see you in your element. You’re more loose at my house.”

I pull the chicken, and set it on the stove to cool.

“That’s because it’s your house,” I grin, coming back into the living room. “The food needs to rest. I should’ve thought of appetizers but—“

She smiles. “It’s cute to see you fret this way. Come sit down. We have time for one more glass don’t we?”

“Wine as your appetizer is just like you,” I sit next to her.

“Something’s never change, hm?”

We both finish our glasses, her eyes locked onto mine, shimmering and wide.

I set my glass down. “Actually I’ve never had company here. I…I’m glad I got to share this with you—”