I N S T I N C T I V E

(Five.)

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One Month Later

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"So this is where the foundation will begin." Ramona said, pointing at the large white paper that sat on Dwights coffee table. Her hair was behind her ear, and she sat on her heels while he sat on the couch, drinking some water. He was dressed in sweatpants and a loose T-shirt. His house was tall with two floors. There was exposed brick on the inside, and the first thing that caught Ramona's eyes was the design. When she asked, he said he did it himself.

"This is the easy sketch, where I toss out an idea just to get started, in no way will this be the final project." She said. He examined them closely, tapping at a few parts with his finger. He hummed at certain points, squinting. "Well?" She asked. "To be quite honest, I have no idea what I'm looking at." He said.

She couldn't prevent herself from chuckling at him. She started to explain the photo in further detail. It was already a huge surprise that she had come over to his home, and it took her quite awhile to take this risk. But so far, he was making her feel comfortable. Plus, things were a lot easier to talk about when it was work related. "This is the kitchen, with the amount of square footage that Mr. Giovanni wants. This is alongside the storeroom, bathrooms, and dining area." Ramona said, referring to the restaurant owner. Dwight nodded.

"Oh, I get it now." He said. "Although, he may want his kitchen to be on the other side. I've learned that he is quite indecisive." Said Dwight. Ramona nodded. "Hm, perhaps I should make a few extra versions just in case." She said. Dwight sat down his cup of water. "By the way, do you want anything to drink?" He asked. "I have great bourbon." He said.

"You drink bourbon?" She asked. "It's quite an 'old man' drink, I know.." He said, making her chuckle. "I don't think it's very professional to drink while discussing something work related." She said. Dwight tilted his head. "I respect that. However, we aren't at work. We're at my place, and it's 9pm. You're still professional to me, wether you're drinking bourbon or vodka." He said, seeming to have a somewhat shy reaction to what he was saying to her. She stared at him intently, a faint grin growing on her lips.

It took her a minute to answer, but the way he was staring cracked her. "Fine, fine. Only a little. And that's it." She said, pointing at him. "Yes, ma'am." He said, then slowly standing up. He headed towards his bar, opening up a cabinet and a shining clear glass. "I'll make sure you can clearly see me pouring it, too." He said, and she squinted. "Are you that type?" She asked. He let out a single chuckle as the brown liquid poured slowly into the glass.

"I despise that type. If you have to drug a woman to get what you want, you're not worthy of her in the first place." He said. "That's quite poetic." Said Ramona, taking the glass from him once he returned to the couch. "You call it poetic, I call it the bare minimum." He said. She took a sip from the bourbon, then sitting it down. "Wow, you didn't even flinch. You can handle it better than I can." He said. She didn't directly reply.

"Can I ask you something?" She asked. He nodded. "You're a well educated commercial real-estate agent who graduated from Northwestern university, you're a gentlemen and you don't seem to be extremely reserved on your masculinity. You stay in a nice house and you're...reasonably handsome. So why are you single?" She asked with a straight face. His eyes seemed to shift and his body language represented awkwardness. Perhaps it was how sudden she asked it.

"Wow, you're bold..." He said. "I've just always been that way. Sorry if it was too sudden." She said. "No..it's fine. Um...I guess I just haven't found the right woman yet- I've heard that multiple times before." Said Ramona, shaking her head. "I know that it's a cliche line, but it's true. I've had times where I did talk to women on a serious level, but I never made it far. We'd get close enough to truly like each other and develop a little trust, but then...It just goes downhill from there." He said. "Downhill, Why?" Ramona asked.