Chapter 31
Carla
I’ve decided on my sophisticated black dress.
It’s simple, just above the knee, with a wrap front and thin straps. I’m in low heels because my feet are still a bit sore.
I put on some lipstick and decide that I look pretty good, all things considered.
I stare at my reflection for a moment longer, then grab my bag and head out.
It’s going to be good. No, it’s going to be great.
Flint is already outside when I come down. He messaged me a few minutes ago to say that he was here. His SUV is parked alongside the curb. He told me that the restaurant we are going to is upmarket, so he wouldn’t be bringing his bike.
I assumed that meant I should be wearing a dress.
I’m feeling off-kilter, which is okay considering this is our first date.
He gets out of the vehicle when he sees me, and he looks really good.
He’s in charcoal trousers and a white dress shirt which is open at the collar. He takes off his dark jacket and slings it over one arm. He’s tall and broad and genuinely attractive. He’s the kind of man who turns heads. I know it firsthand.
I wait for some flutter in my chest, some small spark. Something to confirm that this dinner is a good idea and get nothing.
Sweet F-all.
Not a whisper of anything.
What is wrong with me? Last I checked, I had red blood.
“You look great,” he says, coming around the front of the car.
“Thank you.” I smile at him. “So do you.”
He smiles back and opens the passenger door, and I get in.
His car is nice. There is a song running low through the speakers. He pulls out smoothly, and we head toward the restaurant.
“There is more rain expected later,” he says. “I didn’t think the bike would work.”
“No worries. This is nice. Gives us a chance to…um…talk.”
I can’t think of a single topic.
“We’ve had a lot of rain lately.” I wince inwardly because we’re talking about the weather.
“You’re telling me. I could do with a full day of sun for a change.”
“Yep.” I look out of the window. “Would be nice.”
We sit in silence for a few long minutes.
“Is Magma back at work?” I ask.
“He is.” He checks the mirror. “Back to full speed, if you can believe it. Ran a full debrief his first day in. He’s pulled every report from the last two weeks, even though he was there for most of it. Actually, it’s already back to how it was before he left.”
“So he’s okay then.”
“He’s perfectly fine. His bones have healed. He has a spring in his step.”
Lucky him!
I still feel deflated and a little lost.
“He’s seeing someone.”
Scratch that, I wasn’t feeling deflated before, but I’m feeling deflated now.
“Oh really?” I try to sound upbeat and pull it off.
Go me!
“Yep, a shifter from Mistveil. She left her number, and he called her.”
“Good for him.” I nod a few times, having to force myself to stop. “That means he’s definitely feeling better.”
I feel a stab of jealousy that physically hurts. It has to be that Brook lady I met the other day. The gorgeous female with the long, toned legs and perfect breasts.
“It’s great for him. Really, really great.” I look outside and roll my eyes so hard it hurts my sockets.
“I think so too. It’s about time he had a life outside of work.”
Why would he pick now of all the times? Why?
I need to stop.
The streets outside slide by.
“So,” I say, and then I run out of things to say.
“So,” he says.
I glance at him. His mouth is a straight line, but his eyes are amused.
“You know what,” I say, “I think we can do better than this.”
“I think we can,” he says.
I lean back against the seat. “Okay, let’s actually have a real conversation. What do you do when you’re not at Security Central?”
He thinks about it. “I train. Box mostly, and I run. I’ve been getting into rock climbing this past year.
The gym on the east side has a great indoor wall.
I ride my bike…love that. I enjoy shifting into my dragon form.
I can’t wait for this vaccination to be out of my system so that I can get my permit to shift whenever I want. ”
“So you’re physical, outdoorsy. All of those things, which are all great, by the way.”
He shrugs. “I don’t love sitting still.” He glances over. “What about you?”
“I read. I cook when I’m not being lazy, which, if I’m being honest, is maybe half of the time. I go to the market on most Sunday mornings.”
“What else? I’m sensing there’s more.”
“I like to dance, but I don’t do that often enough. I looooove coffee and croissants and pastries…anything sweet.”
He smiles. “I also like sweet things.”
“I have a very committed relationship with the Thai place two blocks from my apartment.”
“That’s fair enough. You can’t go wrong with Thai.”
“No, you can’t.” I look out the window.
He signals and turns, and we come off the main road and head down toward the waterfront. The lights here are warmer. The rain from earlier has made the cobblestones shine.
We pull into the restaurant’s lot, and he parks. We both get out at the same time.
The restaurant is called La Maison Dorée according to the signage. It’s exactly what I expected. The frontage is understated: a dark green awning, brass fittings on the door, a single tall window with candlelight amber behind it.
Inside is warm, with low lighting that isn’t quite dim, just right. There’s white linen on every table with real silverware. There’s a low current of conversation from the other diners.
The hostess is there as we walk in. She’s young and composed in a black dress, with her hair up.
“Good evening. Welcome to La Maison Dorée.” She checks something on her iPad. “Reservation for two?” She lifts her brows as she looks at us.
“Yes, it’s under Flint,” he says.
“Of course.” She smiles and gathers two menus and a wine list. “Right this way.”
She takes us through the main dining room and toward a small table along the far wall, which is more of a window alcove. It’s good placement because it’s private without being tucked away. There’s a lit candle in the center with a single rose.
“Your server will be with you shortly.” She puts the menus down and leaves.
“This is lovely,” I say, looking around.
“I asked around at the office.” He looks at the room for a moment. “It was Snare’s recommendation. He’s a male I work with. He was there the night of the attack at the hospital.”
I nod, because I don’t really remember him.
A silence drops around us then. I study the menu, reading through everything…twice.
A different server appears. A young shifter male with a huge, goofy smile.
“Good evening. Can I start you off with something to drink? We have several wine options tonight—”
“Do you have a preference?” Flint asks me.
“Um…no, not really. I like both red and white.” I’m not much of a wine expert. I never get the grass or the nutty undertone that everyone talks about.
Flint glances up at the server. “A glass of the Chablis, please. And we’ll take the bread as well.”
“Absolutely.” He leaves.
“The duck,” Flint says, tipping his menu toward me, “is the house specialty apparently. Confit duck with roasted root vegetables and a cherry reduction.” He looks back at it. “I’m leaning toward it.”
“I keep coming back to the salmon,” I say. “But there’s a lamb shank too, which sounds good. The mushroom risotto is vegetarian so—”
“You’re not vegetarian.”
“I’m not, but a really good risotto is still a really good risotto.”
He considers this with some seriousness. “That’s a fair point.”
“Although mushroom can be a bit boring after a while. I tend to take risotto as a side dish.” Why am I going on and on about risotto? We may as well be talking about the weather again.
The server comes back. He puts a breadbasket near the center of the table. They are small rolls that look freshly baked. He opens the bottle, pours a small measure for Flint, who lifts the glass and takes a considered sip and nods.
Then he holds the bottle out in my direction. “Can I offer you some wine?”
“Yes, please.” I need something to take the edge off.
The waiter pours a tiny trickle, which annoys me.
“Are you ready to order?” he asks us.
Flint looks over at me, and I widen my eyes, panicking at having to choose right away.
He smiles. “Not just yet.”
“Take all the time you need,” the server says. He leaves us again.
I tear off a small piece of bread roll. It’s good. Nice and soft inside with a little crust.
Flint pours me some more wine.
“Thanks.”
He’s attentive and really nice. Why can’t I feel anything? Whhhyyyyy?
“How long have you been at Security Central?” I ask.
He puts the menu down. “I started on the frontline detail about six or seven years ago and worked my way up to Flight Captain.” He turns his wine glass once, slowly. “Three years ago, Magma asked me to step up as his second-in-command. I said yes.”
“Oh wow. You obviously have good leadership skills.”
“It’s a good role. The work is different from the frontline, but I wasn’t chasing rank, really. I followed the work.” He looks at me. “What about you? You’re Robyn’s PA?”
“That’s right.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“I do. I love it, actually.”
“Is it strange to work for a friend?”
“You’d think it might be, but no. We separate it pretty well. At work, she’s Dr. Keller, and I’m her PA. After hours we’re just us.” I put down my bread. “You’d know the dynamic. I mean, what about you and Magma? You’re friends, aren’t you?”
“That’s true,” he says. “Same thing, more or less.”
The server comes back. He takes our orders, duck for Flint and the salmon for me.
Then he goes.
Flint lifts his wine glass across the table. “To a good evening.”
I pick up my glass and clink it against his. We both drink.
He smiles at me, and I know in that instant that there’s nothing there. I’m not attracted to him. Not anymore.
I don’t know when it stopped. I’m not entirely sure it was ever quite what I thought it was to begin with. Maybe it’s me.
All I know is that I need to be honest with him. This isn’t going to go anywhere.
“Flint—” I start.
“Carla—” he says, at the same moment.
We both stop.
“You go,” I say.
“You go first,” he says.
“I really don’t mind. Go ahead…please.”
He cocks his head and pulls in a deep breath. “All right.” He puts the glass down. “I got word just yesterday. I’m going to Mistveil.”
I make a noise that tells him I’m all ears.
“They’ve asked Security Central to send me to the island for what will more than likely be a few months.
Their security operation isn’t set up to handle the problem they’re dealing with.
The rogue feral males are a huge issue. Beyond that, they want to actually try to do something about it.
Not just manage it. They’re setting up integration centers.
Programs to try to bring those males back into civilization.
Step by step, over time.” He pauses. “It won’t be quick.
Some of them have been in the jungle so long they’re more dragon than human.
They’re going to have to relearn what they were before the jungle stripped it out of them.
But Mistveil’s position is that they made the problem worse by exiling them and then ignoring them.
They want to try to fix it, as well as the security surrounding them.
For now, Draig Island will continue to help them, but over time they want and need to take over themselves. ”
“It’s a good thing. It’s going to be tough. I saw those feral males firsthand and…” I shake my head.
“It won’t be easy. They have admitted as much.” He nods once. “I’m going to help them set up the security side and oversee the integration center structure. There could be a long-term position available, something in the same kind of role as Magma’s.”
I nod.
He looks slightly sheepish. “I realize the timing of telling you this is—” he stops. “I don’t know where my future is going to end up being. Starting something now, under those circumstances… It doesn’t seem fair to start a relationship. It would be long-distance. I think the timing is off.”
“Flint.” I put my glass down. “Congratulations. I think it’s really great. I’m very happy for you. I can see how excited you are.”
He exhales. “You’re not upset.”
“Not at all.” I look at him. “I was going to say something very similar, and I’m glad you went first.” I fold my hands around my water glass.
“Since I came home, I’ve been trying to figure out where I’m at.
The jungle changed something in me. I came back different, I think, and I haven’t quite worked out how I’ve changed yet.
I need to do that on my own for a while.
Get back to myself.” I glance down for a moment.
“I was going to tell you that I don’t want a relationship right now. That the timing is off.”
“So we’re both on the same page here?”
“We are.”
He gets a look of concern. “But you’re okay, aren’t you?”
“I’m doing great. I really am. Just working through some things, that’s all.”
And the weight that I didn’t quite realize I was carrying falls away. At least, some of it does.
“I thought you might take it badly,” he says. “I was working out how to say it since I fetched you.”
“Was that why you had such a lot to say about the weather on the way over?”
The smile breaks across his face this time, wide and real, the first easy one of the evening. “Guilty.”
“Me too.” I look at him. “I asked about your hobbies to buy time.”
He laughs and lifts his glass again. “To being friends.”
I lift mine. “Friends.”
The glasses chink.
We drink.
The tension of the evening drains away so completely that I feel my shoulders relax.
“It sounds like you’re excited about this new venture,” I say.
“I am.” He nods. He looks it, too. This is the most animated he has been all night. “It’s going to be challenging but in a good way.” He smiles.
“Tell me more,” I say.
I’m so glad I didn’t have to hurt his feelings.