“Anytime.”
What does that even mean? Don’t even try to understand mercurial men. “Well, I’ll be back later to check on you and give you some updates so you don’t worry.” Before he can say anything else, I rush off.
Where Did He Come From?
Max
Fiona walking away is no less earth-shattering than the view that turned me into a speechless, drooling boy. Who wears a wedding dress to work?
Doesn’t she have a care that when she looks like that, she reduces a man’s mental capacity? That dress alone should be illegal outside of an engagement party or an elopement. At least then every man would be prepared…every man.
My whole body goes tight.
Fiona didn’t wear that dress for me. Did she wear it for another man? Was this her hinting at a ring? Because that’s the first thing I thought of when I actually saw her.
Was Nonna wrong? Is she taken already?
Nonna's little decree last night has my head so messed up, Fiona is going to think I’m a nut.
A nut who saw a woman in a white dress and imagined our future together. I don’t even know what color she likes. What her favorite food is. What makes her smile. I shouldn’t be imagining her walking down the aisle to me.
Get it together.
She’s going to come back here and talk to you again.
You’ve got to figure out how to keep your tongue in your mouth and how to make friendly conversation before she gets back.
I break off a piece of cookie and shove it in my mouth absentmindedly, and all my attention shifts.
What is this magic on my tongue? It’s sweet and salty with hints of nuts. There’s a chewiness to it while the dough is light and crumbly. Then, the bitter hint of chocolate melting balances out the sweetness.
What is this? And why is this the first time in my thirty-plus-year life that I’m tasting it?
Cookies are my favorite, but this is on a whole new level. It’s like a cookie on steroids without all the side effects.
***
The records for our new money-launderer friend don’t make sense. I mean, on the surface, they do. Cash-based businesses that are prosperous scattered all around Urbium make perfect sense. But this guy doesn’t exist.
He’s a ghost, and ghosts don’t exist.
I don’t like this. Not at all.
There’s got to be a birth certificate or criminal trail somewhere. You don’t just become a money launderer out of nowhere.
The scent changes from the mottled mixture of sweet delights to fresh citrus and cinnamon. Are they—I’ve smelled that exact scent before. An image of a white dress flashes before my eyes.
Fiona. I glance up from my keyboard and find her walking towards me.
My heart stops for the longest moment.
That dress should definitely be illegal.
Pull yourself together, man.
She notices me and starts to smile. I’m lost. Speaking is an insurmountable challenge, and all I need to say is one syllable. Something I mastered before I was nine months old.
“Hi.” Fiona lifts her hands to show two steaming mugs. “I realized I brought you a cookie, but what’s a cookie without a cup of coffee?”
