The Night Shift: A Red Dead Redemption 2 AU

xv. The Presentation

The next morning, the morning of their presentation, Mia woke alone in Arthur's bed, the late February sky outside his windows steely and unforgiving. She scanned the apartment and found him leant against the counter, sipping at a glass of water. Arthur looked distracted, uncertain.

But he smiled when he caught her looking at him, a small, upward curl of his lip. Mia slipped from beneath the sheets and kissed the curl, Arthur's smile broadening further.

"You feeling ready, Chef?" She asked, robbing him of the water for a drink.

Arthur stretched, the golden hairs on his stomach briefly visible between his lifted t-shirt and shorts. "As I'll ever be, I guess."

"That's the spirit," she teased, dodging his grasp to pick up her tights and dress from where he'd neatly folded them. She hopped on one foot, then the other, pulling the tights on and the hated uniform dress overtop. With any luck, I won't ever have to wear this again, she thought.

"Where you goin'?" Arthur asked, watching Mia pull the dress over her head and down over her torso and hips.

"Home first, to feed Lev and practice, then I'll meet you at the restaurant." Mia took the foamcore boards they'd prepared - her careful rendering of what would become Antler, their profit projections, Arthur's menu concept - and held them to her chest.

The same, distracted look crossed Arthur's face and Mia frowned. She crept to his side and kissed him again, on the mouth, a lingering, unyielding thing.

"We've got this," she said, giving Arthur her most assuring smile, believing it for the both of them.

*

Due to a delay on the train, Mia arrived at the restaurant later than her and Arthur's intended arrival time, but still with time to spare. She muttered a hello to John, already setting up for service behind the bar, before offering her brightest smile to Dutch, who was half-sat on one of the bar stools.

"I'll just set up over here, Dutch?" She asked, pointing at the table behind her.

"That works," he replied. "Any word on when Arthur's going to turn up?"

He's not here yet? The question swelled in her throat and then dissipated; Mia plastered another smile across her cheeks. "He'll be here any minute," she said, her tone falsely cavalier, forcing herself to stand up the presentation boards and avoid checking her phone.

The job done, Mia swivelled to stare back at a waiting Dutch, who began to slowly tap his foot with some impatience. Behind him, John refilled his supply of garnishes, scowling.

"Any minute at all," she said again, after five minutes had passed, her smile faltering as her stomach twisted.

"My time is valuable, Mia," Dutch said, annoyed.

Panic crackling in her ears, Mia replied, "I think he'd mentioned something about a cigarette, I'll just go fetch him." She walked deliberately to and through the kitchen door, only breaking into a run once she was sure it had closed behind her.

Faced with the back lot of the restaurant, which was empty, Mia's heart sank. She wrapped her arms around herself against the chill and allowed herself a moment's pity; that Arthur's pride had won out over all of their hard work.

From the direction of the walk-in, she heard a gruff cough. The door was ajar, the handle dangling loose; broken. Mia slipped inside, confronted there with Arthur, who was looking at the plastic-wrapped packages of frozen meat and vegetables with disdain clear on his face. He'd shown up, after all.

She forced a laugh. "Disgusting, right?"

Arthur didn't join in, turning to look at her, his frown bordering on despair. "Mia, 'm sorry," he said, holding an open hand toward her, between them. "I don't think I can go in there. If Hosea'd seen this, I..."