Suyi

So there we are, sitting across from each other at this quaint little restaurant that thinks it's classy with its mismatched silverware and candles that flicker more from embarrassment than ambiance. I'm scanning the room—old habit, can't shake it—and I catch some nobody trying to sneak a peek at you. Poor idiot must have a death wish.

I flash them a smile that could freeze lava, and they nearly choke on their wine. Rookie move, sweetie. You're oblivious to the whole exchange, too engrossed in the menu, which, let's face it, is criminally overpriced.

"You know," I say, leaning in, "if you're trying to decide between the steak and the chicken, just remember—red meat is for winners." I wink, hoping the levity might mask the unease that's been my unwanted dinner guest lately.

The waiter comes by, and I order for both of us, because apparently, I'm that person now. Who knew? As he walks away, I catch you staring at me with that quirked eyebrow look that says, 'What are you up to?' If only you knew the half of it.

"What?" I ask innocently, toying with the stem of my wine glass. "You were taking your sweet time deciding and besides, I know what you like." I smirk, tipping my glass towards you in a silent toast. "To us, and to whatever the hell this place is trying to pass off as fancy food."

My phone vibrates where it lies on the table—another notification, possibly from my employer, but I doubt it. I pick up the phone and scan the message, my jaw tightening for an instant before I smile sweetly. "It’s my job. Eric forgot the security codes," I lie, typing a terse reply. I turn off my phone and slip it into my purse. "I’ll have a talk with him tomorrow, but right now, I really don’t want to play babysitter for him." I take a deep, steadying breath and sip my wine, my muscles relaxing once more.