Waters of Oblivion

Chapter 22.1: The Daydream

"Would you like some more?" Max tilted the small, paper bag so she could see the roasted nuts inside.

Reine wiped the salt off her hands and shook her head. "No, thanks. You can have the rest."

Turning her attention back to the performance, she was just in time to see a shining blade fly through the air and pop a pink balloon between the showgirl's teeth. The knife act was never her favorite, and she cringed at the consequences of a missed shot.

In spite of the potential for a bloody disaster, Reine was enjoying the afternoon at the circus. Although the pieces in her life were slowly falling back into place, she was happy to get a brief reprieve from all that had happened over the last few days.

She couldn't even believe it was only Monday. She'd just met Max in Paris two days earlier, but after spending the night together in Chambord, he'd left her in Bruge to face the Council alone. He showed up on her doorstep last night a few hours after she returned to London and confirmed Sylvana had in fact fabricated all of her statements about his complicity.

As she hoped, Max was innocent of every accusation. The Council would punish Sylvana, and Reine was now safe.

This was all she needed to know. Since his quick update, they hadn't discussed anything serious. Instead, he'd invited her to spend the day with him.

Sitting in the front row, they waited for the knife throwing show to continue. While the technical crew pushed a large, round board into the center of the ring, a clown on the periphery performed a skit to distract the audience. Perhaps feeling relieved at getting closure from their ordeal, Max let go and laughed wholeheartedly at the gags. Even the clown's failed attempt to pull a tablecloth out from under the fancy place setting made him smile so wide that small creases formed at the corners of his eyes.

Noticing Reine watching him, he popped another peanut into his mouth, leaned closer, and whispered in her ear. "I think it's about time we started having some fun."

Furrowing her brows, she looked into his eyes. "Isn't that what we're doing now?"

"Well, yes." He smiled again. "But I mean exclusively. I'll hand the leadership of the company over to Malik permanently, and we'll go off the grid. Retire, if you will."

Reine shifted in her seat. The knife act was ready to resume, and the marksman was strapping his assistant spread-eagle onto the circular target. "Just us?"

"And Amara and the baby, of course. Anywhere in the world. Whatever you choose."

Leaning back, she felt her head spin considering the possibilities. Taking a moment to think, she focused on the woman in the skimpy, sequined outfit now spinning clockwise in the ring. While she was no longer smiling, the performer didn't look scared. Rather, there was a certain sense of confidence or perhaps even tranquility emanating from her.

Was it from experience or faith? Reine wondered. Glancing at the man with the crisp, white rolled up shirtsleeves standing five meters away gave her the answer.

He was concentrating on what he was about to do, holding the knife vertically while slightly touching the tip to his lips. Looking at his assistant, he gave her a subtle, but definitive nod before drawing his arm back and letting the sharp blade fly through the air. It was her smile - a response given even before the knife hit its mark - that made Reine see why she'd been so relaxed.

Trust.

The woman trusted her partner completely, she trusted him to keep her safe, and she trusted his unspoken assurance of this, Reine realized in the split second before the steel penetrated the wooden target with a thud.

As the audience erupted in cheers, Max was still waiting for her decision about going away. Coming from anyone else, it may have seemed like impatience or even manipulation, but somehow, he always knew the right thing to say. Taking her hand in his, he lightly kissed it before whispering, "We got each other now, so we're halfway there."

Reine's head snapped up as a sparkling projectile hit the ground. Putting the dishrag on the bar, she turned down the stereo, making Bon Jovi's "Living on a Prayer" fade into the background.

"Hey! Either play nice boys or get outta here," she yelled at a trio of men arguing by the pub's dartboard about the missed shot. Instead of objecting, they went back to their game.

Reine couldn't do the same.

Her day had started badly after getting into a stupid argument with Noor; all she had wanted to do was pass the next several hours of work in peace. Concentrating on making all the pint glasses spotless seemed like good way to do it, but having her daydreaming interrupted by drunken buffoons wasn't exactly helping her already sour mood.

There was no way she could finish the fantasy, but maybe that was for the better. Max Baldovini was already on her mind more than he probably deserved. Pulling her cell phone out of her pocket, she was just about to check the screen when a familiar voice interrupted.

"Still haven't heard from him?" Noor asked as she placed her elbows on the bar.

Ignoring the question, Reine slipped the device back into her pants. "What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be shopping or something?"

"Touché, however, I'll let that slip because I deserve it. I actually came to apologize for being such a brat earlier. You were right. It's your house, and as your guest, I shouldn't be thinking about redecorating. At least not on my first day here." She grinned.

Reine touched Noor's hand. "I'm sorry too. I overreacted. And you're not a guest. As my roommate, it's your house too. So, please feel free to buy whatever will make you feel like home."

"What made you change your mind?" The girl's eyes widened with surprise.

"You know me. I'm a pacifist." She shrugged. "I hate confrontation, and if having purple walls or an accent plant in your room will make you happy, then go for it."

"Even if it ruins the minimalist aesthetic you were going for with your white on white palette?" Noor mimicked her earlier choice of words.

Reine sighed with dramatic emphasis. "Yes, even then."

"Good. Now that you've come to your senses, I want to show you something." The girl impatiently tapped her fingers on the counter. "Grab your stuff, and let's go."

"I can't. I'm working," Reine declined, shaking her head.

"Have someone cover for you. Please." Noor pouted. "It's important."

Reine looked around the pub. The dart game seemed to be winding down, and only two other tables were occupied. Noor was right; they could make do without her.

She'd just grabbed her purse from under the counter when her manager stepped out of the stock room. "What's goin' on here?"

"I'm going to need the afternoon off. Not feeling well." She threw him an apologetic smile as Noor grabbed her arm and began pulling her towards the door.

"Actually she's quitting," the girl added.

Reine looked over her shoulder in protest. "Oh, no I'm not! I'll see you tomorrow, Gerry."

"No, she won't Ger," Noor countered, as the door slammed behind them.

Without breaking their stride, they headed down the sidewalk. "Are you crazy?" Reine laughed at her friend's antics.

"No, but you are if you think you'll continue to work in that dive." Noor giggled back. "Now come on, and tell me if we're heading in the right direction because I have no idea where the nearest Metro station is."

"Well, we are going the right way, but they call it the Tube around here." Reine corrected. "Where are we taking it, if I may ask?"

Noor rolled her eyes. "No, you may not. It's a surprise."