The Best View in the City

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I arrive at Toronto's Union Station. I'm planning to take the PATH to the CN Tower. That's where she'll be. While her text from last night is cryptic, I know her well enough to know what she means. Her text is referencing the restaurant at the top of the CN Tower. I'm almost certain of it. That is where the best view in the city would be.

She texted me again this morning saying to meet her at 6pm. I'm early.

Yesterday she stole the jewels that I had gone to the Royal Ontario Museum to steal. She left four of them for me. I had to use clues she had texted me to find three of the gems. The fourth was waiting for me with the note telling me to meet her at the best view in the city tonight for a proper date.

My jewel thief ex partner. I can't even call her my ex-girlfriend because we had never been on a real date. She left me three years ago without so much as a word. We had spent six months sleeping in the same bed. We had shared secrets about everything. Everything except our professions which, as it turns out, were the same. We're both thieves. When she left me, I had to deal with the police. They were after her. She'd almost gotten caught. I had to lay low for a long time after that so they wouldn't get suspicious. And we hadn't spoken since then until last night.

I'll admit, I dressed up for our date tonight. I bought a new dress for this occasion. If tonight doesn't go well, there's a good chance I won't be able to look at it without thinking of her. The dress is floor length and green. It has a deep v neckline and no sleeves. It's a bit chilly to wear in winter, but it looks stunning. It might be even better than the red ballgown I wore to the gala at the ROM last night. My hair is up in a braided bun.

I walk into Union Rail Station from the subway terminal then I walk up the stairs to the ground floor. I pass through the station and go up the escalator near the platform that leads to the train to the airport. I'm not going to the airport, though it would be easy enough to run away and leave her like she left me if I wanted revenge.

I continue walking through the Metro Toronto Convention Centre and across the Skywalk. By then I'm right under the CN Tower. I walk into the main lobby and up to the reception desk. The place is full of people. The receptionist is wearing a nametag that says: Indigo, they/them.

"Hi, my...um..." Can I call Isabelle my girlfriend if this is our first real date and we separated three years ago? I don't need to bore Indigo with the details. "My girlfriend, Isabelle Cartier made a reservation at the 360 for tonight at 6."

They smile and say: "okay, my associate will walk you to the restaurant. I hope you have a good time!"

I slip them a $15 tip and thank them. Their associate is a large person with short hair. Her nametag reveals that her name is Willow and her pronouns are she/her. She walks me to the elevator.

We step into the elevator and up and up and up we go. As the ground gets smaller and smaller beneath my feet, I get dizzy.

"How do you do this for a living?" I ask, feeling queasy.

"Security?" Willow asks.

I shake my head.

"Oh! Going up and down all day? I love this stuff. It was either this or roller coaster testing but it turns out they use crash test dummies for that so here I am."

She's got an easygoing smile on her face. She must be waiting for me to laugh with her. And I would if I wasn't so dizzy. I flash her a weak smile and she gives me a look of pity in response. I'm sure I'm not the first person to feel sick during the elevator ride and I'm sure I won't be the last.

We arrive at the top. I tip Willow then pause for a little while to get my head to stop spinning. I walk up to the host's desk at the 360.

"My girlfriend made a reservation for 6pm. Isabelle Cartier?"

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