ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴠᴀʟꜱ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ

₀₀₅

𝘙𝘏𝘠𝘚 𝘔𝘖𝘖𝘙𝘌

WHEN I ARRIVE AT LA LAVANDA, the line was out the door. I straighten the collar of my suit and skim the faces of people waiting in line. Happy, annoyed, jealous, neutral. Ah, there she is.

I walk up behind her, angry protests follow me as I cut the line. She's wearing a black dress, with an open back. Her hair is down, not in the sleek ponytail she wore to work. And she seems about two inches taller then normal.

"Good evening." I stand at her side, far too close for my comfort.

"Evening."

Her eyes stay trained on the people in front of her. There's a sort of weird tension between us. Much like there was a year ago. The hatred is stronger today. Lovely.

When we get to the hostess, she stares at the two of us for a while. Eyes wide; taking in our appearances. She looks young, like high school young, and it looks like she's never seen anyone before.

"We have reservations. Under the name of Fernando Martin." Wren's words are bitter, like she notices the look on the girls face too; the attention.

"U-uh of course. You can follow me." The hostess snaps out of her daydream and walks us inside to our table. It's in the corner of the restaurant, away from everyone.

"Here you are. Your server will be right with you." The hostess places the menus on our table with shaky hands, then hurriedly shuffles away.

"Seems like someone has a crush." I raise my eyebrows at the hostess and then to Wren.

"Funny." Her face is blank, not giving away any signs that she found me actually funny.

Then a thick silence envelops us. And it stays that way until the waiter comes over to take our orders.

"I'll have the chicken." I close my menu and hand it to the waiter.

"Same." One word. One word answers seem like all Wren can come up with tonight.

"And will you be doing any house wine tonight?" The waiter looks up from his note pad and directs his gaze at Wren.

Her jaw is tight, as is her grip around her water glass. Her shoulders are stiff and her chest stills. And when I accept the offer, her eyes shoot up and narrow at me.

Then the silence continues.

God. Nothing seems to startle this woman. Nothing. Wren's infuriating. That's the only simple term that i can use to describe her. She's stubborn as hell, takes no shit- gives no shit. She's almost like a shell of a person, like sure she exists-clearly-but there's really nothing behind that.

Usually you can read a persons emotions from the look on their face, or if you look really hard into their eyes. But when i look into Wren's eyes, i see nothing. And it confuses me. Irritates me.

What's more irritating is that i'm now going to have to work with her for the project. Maxine had refused to split the work in half, saying, "The documents were made the way they were for a reason, there will be no separating". So there's no way to distance myself from Wren.

The waiter comes over with the wine and pours me a glass. He motions to pour some for Wren but she shakes her head. The waiter leaves the bottle of wine on the table and soon comes back with our food.

We eat in silence. Shocker.

It's the most boring night I think i've ever had. Ever. Wren eats her food in small bites, her silverware never scratching against the plate. She doesn't reach for the wine. Not once. She doesn't take her food home. She doesn't order dessert, she just sits there. Just exists.

That's what i'm talking about. She's like a robot of sorts. Never stepping out of line, never doing the most basic things. Almost like she's programmed that way. I wonder what made her want to be this way. What she might've been like before. Before...whatever it was that made her just exist.

I hold the door open when we leave the restaurant. I get no 'thank you'. Not like I expected as much.

Just as we step out of the door, the same hostess looks at us and smiles shyly. Another girl on the side of her knocks her elbow into the hostess. The hostess clears her throat and speaks.

"Just thought i'd let you know that you two make a very attractive couple." The girl on the side of her aggressively nods her head.

I look down at Wren, but as usual, her face is blank. Then she rubs the corner of her mouth. I'm about to correct the hostess but she beats me to it.

"Colleagues." Wren's voice is low. Shocker.

"Pardon?" The hostess goes scarlet.

"What she means is that we're colleagues. Not a couple." My jaw clenches and I force my mouth not to twitch into a scowl.

"Oh. Oh." Hostess is now the color of fresh blood. A frown displaying on her features.

"What a shame." The girl besides her murmurs.

I turn to Wren, only to find her strutting down the cobblestone sidewalk. I jog a bit to catch up with her, and stuff my hands into my pockets to warm them up. I'm surprised to see that even in a thin strapped dress, Wren isn't even the tiniest bit shivering. Then again the devil doesn't get cold.

"I can take care of myself, Mr. Moore." Wren doesn't look up as she speaks.

"Never said you couldn't." I'm looking at the top of her head.

"But you're implying it."

"How's that?" I tilt my head when she finally looks up at me. She then stops walking and crosses her arms over her chest.

"You're walking me to my car."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"It's an insensitive thing. You, a man, are walking me, a strong, independent, capable human being to her car. When she didn't ask nor imply the need for an escort. It's sexist." She says all of this without a trace of actual offense in her voice.

"It's not sexist. It's being a gentleman. I-a man-am using my privilege to walk you-a woman-to her car late at night in a busy city. And before you say i'm being stereotypical, it's simply called being safe." I shrug my shoulders.

"I find it disheartening that a man, such as yourself, can realize the privilege you have, while others have been the reason for the stereotype you're implying." Her voice remains passive.

I have to agree that some men deserve nothing. That they've made the world a worse place and that the world would be better if they died. But, now's not the time for that.

"Do you want me to walk you to your car or not?"

"Yes, thank you."

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