"Sir, Agent Casanova is here," Frederickson says as soon as I walk into my office.
"She'll have to come back," I say.
"Like hell I will!"
She stomps forward in cowboy boots, hiking up her belt.
Freddie hands her a Top-Tier Chocolatier Specialty espresso on a jiggling saucer, which she doesn't take.
"Agent Casanova, good to see you," I say. "Did you see the package of specialty vape juices?"
"Tender, I got my ass here at 7 am, which is enough to make me want to crack your head like a walnut." She scratches at the air. "And I'm not supposed to accept gifts." She folds her arms at Freddie's peace offering, tapping her foot. "Though, the grapericious flavor looks good. But more to the point, why can't I go down there?"
"We had a fire in the tumbler room this morning," I explain calmly. "We're combating a bio-hazard."
"And I can't see it because ...?"
"It's a mess. The dalumps have sectioned off the facility. I can certainly take you down there, if you like, but you'd still have to come back in order to see the whole area."
"Ah, fuck you, Tender." She throws up her arms. "Whole day wasted. Do you know what the commute was like? Those horrible tollbooths? Now I have to drive all the way back–"
"It should be resolved in a few hours."
"Oh?"
"Yes. Because of the fire, the furnace is off anyways. I'd imagine it'll be cleaned up by ... what?" I wave my hand in the air, measuring. Freddie's eyebrows raise because he has no idea. "Mmm. 11-or-so? If you don't mind waiting."
Her sharp face softens. "Oh. Well, in that case. I suppose I can–"
"You're welcome to wait here, Miss Casanova." I remove my hat, waving it at the soft couch. "There's espresso and WiFi. Freddie can even put on some nice music, if you like. Relax, kick your feet up. You can either do work or amuse yourself with a tablet here. I just have a few appointments to attend to. Please let us know if you should need anything. I'd like for you to be comfortable ... would you like me to take your coat?" I lean in to remove it from her shoulders. "You know, I haven't as yet caught your first name."
As if on cue, Freddie taps his monitor and soft lo-fi music echoes like a tasteful spa.
Agent Casanova's pencil-thin eyebrows crawl towards her curly hair. "Well, I'll have to tell Agent Yeti that it's finally happened."
I start. "What's finally happened, miss?"
"I've been hit on while on the job."
"Oh, no, no, no." I chuckle. "No, I'm so sorry. How inappropriate."
"What? Are you trying to tell me you're not hitting on me?" Casanova's fists find her hips. "Coming up with a fake reason to monopolize my time, giving me gifts, and making me wait on a couch that's clearly designed for sex?"
I look down at the fuzzy couch. It's irregular shape would probably make for some convenient positions, but I bought it because I thought it looked like a big melted marshmallow.
Letting the tight awkwardness escape with a sigh, I mutter, "I know it's likely unusual to receive this level of hospitality as a federal agent, but I assure you that it's quite normal at Wylie's Wonders. I was just trying to ensure that you're comfortable for the time being, because I don't like abandoning guests to boredom."
God, I sound exactly like Wylie. It's almost verbatim something he would say. Is his soul inside me? How would I know?
Agent Casanova's Hollywood-like, red lips curl. "My name is Luciana."
YOU ARE READING
Bittersweet
FanfictionCharlie has taken over the chocolate factory. The once-impoverished child who won a contest was taken in by the weird Mr. Wylie, a zany and extremely unethical CEO. But now that the 24-year-old Charlie has to contend with modern capitalism, can he...
