Maddox P.O.V
I cut across the cinema lobby, inhaling the scent of freshly popped popcorn that always seems to permeate the air. A group of teens chatting animatedly about the latest Marvel movie passes me by while nearing the concession stand.
Francesca stands just to the side in blue jeans, black thigh-high leather boots, and a matching jacket with her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail.
Her head's down as she types away on her phone. The furrow between her brow deepens with each press of a finger. As if sensing my approach, she looks up before starting toward me.
"I'm sorry I'm late. My meeting ran a little over." I say, pulling her in for a hug and peck on the lips when we meet in the middle.
"It's okay. We just arrived ourselves."
I look around, searching for familiar faces in the crowd but find none. "We? Is this a double date?"
"No. I uh..." She slips her phone into her tiny black purse. "I forgot I let my sister borrow my car, so I had to catch a ride with m-"
"Fran?" A deep, craggily voice calls from behind us.
I turn around, but Francesca is slow to do so. A man appearing in his late fifties stands there in a canary yellow shirt half tucked into his jeans. His dark brown eyes watch Francesca like a hawk until she fully faces him.
"Hey!" She greets him in an overly chipper manner that makes his thick black eyebrows with flecks of gray nearly shoot up to his matching hairline. "There you are. Let me introduce you. Then we'll let you get on with your day."
She chuckles nervously as she looks over at me. "Maddox, this is my dad Abraham."
"Your dad?" My eyes dart between the pair, only now noticing the familial resemblance.
"Yes, her dad." He says, his lips set in a thin, disapproving line. "And I take it you're why she's taking this new job."
"Uh..." I look over at Francesca, unsure as to how to respond.
This is my first time meeting her father, but his distaste for me is apparent. But I couldn't tell if this was because I was seeing his daughter or something more.
"Dad, please." She softly chides. "I've already explained the reasons why I'm taking this job a-"
"And he's one of them, right?"
"Yes, but not the only. And I don't understand why you're so unhappy. I'll still make good money, receive my benefits, and I'll be home more often. Which is what you've always wanted, so why?"
"Because I don't want you to jump into things without thinking this through."
"I have thought things through!" She half whispers shouts, struggling to rein in her anger. "That's all I've done over the past few weeks since being offered the job. Now, will you please trust that I'm making the right decision?"
"Fi-"
My phone rings in my pocket, alerting me of an incoming call. I slip it out and see Scarlett's office number on the caller's i.d.
"Hello?" I say after accepting the call.
"Oh my god, Maddox. Thank goodness you answered." Penelope rushes out in a single breath. "Scarlett's hurt."
My heart drops to my stomach as those two words ring throughout my ears.
"And I don't know what to do." She continues, her voice trembling with each word.
"Wait." I step away, cupping my hand tighter around the phone to hear her over the crowds growing voices. "What do you mean hurt?! Hurt how?!"
"S-s-someone," she chokes out through her broken sobs before releasing a shaky breath. "Broke into the office, and I found her unconscious on the floor."
"Oh god." I breathe out, briefly closing my eyes and looking at the ceiling.
A hand lands on my back before Francesa appears at my side, looking at me with concern reflected in her gaze.
"Is she...have you called 9-1-1?"
She sniffles. "Y-yeah. I'm waiting for them to arrive."
"Okay, good. Good. I'm on my way."
Before she can respond, I end the call and pocket my phone, the need to get to Scarlett overriding everything.
"I need to go." I manage to take all of two steps toward the exit before Francesca blocks my path.
"Go? You just got here." She says.
"I know." Taking her hand in mine, I gently rub my thumb across her knuckles. "And I promise I'll make it up to you. But I need to go."
"Why? Did something happen?"
"Yeah." My hand shakes as I lift it to my head and rub my throbbing temples. "That was Penelope. She just called to tell me someone broke into Scarlett's office."
"Oh my... She's not hurt, is she?"
"I don't know. That's what I need to find out."
"Yeah. Go, go."
"Uh... I'm sorry, but who's Scarlett?" Mr. Hoffman asks.
"His best friend," Francesca says.
"Ahh, I see." Mr. Hoffman stepped back, slid his hands into his pockets, and glowered at me.
"See wh-"
Francesca grabs my arm and leads me a few feet away. "Don't mind him. Just go, and call me to let me know if she's alright."
My eyes find Mr. Hoffman's over her head. They haven't softened one bit. He clearly has something to say but is biting his tongue. And I couldn't care less. His opinion of me seemed pretty set in stone long before we met, and an argument in the middle of a movie theater wouldn't change it. Besides, I have more important matters to tend to.
"Okay."
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