I closed the laptop lid and headed for the door. My jacket was hanging on the rack, and I slid a hand into the pocket, fishing out my cigarette pack. One cigarette between my lips, a flick of the lighter, and the first drag hit my lungs like a cold shower. God, I needed that.

Minne was at the dining table now, wiping it down and drying it with a towel.

"Why didn't you go with them?" I asked. "Would've been a nice change of air. Shopping and all."

"I need some stuff to take care of in the house, Master," she said. Then her eyes drifted toward the window. "And they say another storm might hit today. So… I'm scared a bit."

"Hmm." I nodded slowly. "Well, if there's anything you want, I can buy it for you online, alright?"

"Anything?"

That was… not the reaction I expected from her. But whatever. I shrugged, trying not to sound like I was bluffing.

"Yeah. Sure. Anything. What did you have in mind, Minne?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. "Umm… nevermind, Master."

"No, tell me," I insisted. "I'll—"

"Oh, I forgot to clean the kitchen," she blurted, too quickly. "I'll go do it immediately."

Definitely lying. But I wasn't going to pry it out of her. I just stood there for a couple seconds, then shrugged and walked back into the living room.

I pulled the ashtray closer, dragged again from the cigarette, and grabbed my phone from the chair next to me. It had been charging since I got home, the battery had died at work, in that graveyard of phone crates, and the moment it powered on, two notifications popped up. Two texts. One missed call.

Both texts were from Penelope.

The call was from Kayla.

I opened Penelope's messages first.

'Hey'

Second one: 'Call me when you can.'

Alright then.

I dialed her number and leaned back as it rang. Wind and traffic noise hit me the second she picked up.

"Evan," she said. "Hey."

"Just saw your texts, sorry," I said. "What's up?"

"Nothing dramatic," she said. "I just wanted you to know Mendy's doing fine. She was super happy after dinner. Kept talking about your boner and how funny it looked."

"Oh my fucking god," I groaned. "I was DREAMING, okay? I already apologized."

"Hey, you were saying my fucking name in your dream," she said. "Were you fucking me?"

"What? No!" I snapped. "It was just—you know—stupid coincidence."

She burst into laughter. "Uh-huh. Definitely."

"Is that why you called? To clown on me?"

"Yep." She didn't even hesitate. "That, and to tell you Mendy's fine."

"Great. Fantastic. I'm hanging up."

"Oooh, Penelope, go faster, pwease—" she mocked in a high-pitched, needy voice.

I hung up before she finished the sentence. Fucking hell. I took another long drag from my cigarette. That whole boner incident still made me want to bury myself alive. Why the hell did that even happen?

Shaking my head, I called Kayla next.

She picked up immediately.

"Evan. Hey. How are you?"

"Doing fine," I said. "You?"

"The storm was pretty shitty, not gonna lie," she said. "Nearly brought my damn house down."

"Yeah, for real."

She went quiet for a moment, then cleared her throat. "Well… I called because… I wanted to thank you."

"For what?"

"For not leaving me alone at the dinner thing," she said. "I have no idea what I would've done without you there. It'd be awkward."

"It wouldn't be," I said. "I'm sure you would've handled it."

"With Penelope breathing down my fucking neck?" she said. "Nah. I don't think so."

I chuckled. "Well, then I'm glad I helped."

"Yeah…" she said. Then a soft exhale. "You free? We should grab a coffee or something."

"Umm… yeah, sure. Burney's?"

"Okay. Should I take the bus or will you—"

"I'll get you," I said. "Just wait for my call and come down. Don't stand outside in this cold."

"Yep," she said. "I'll get ready now."

"Alright. See you soon."

"See ya."

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

I stopped the car and texted Kayla to come down. Just as I was about to close the screen, another message popped up—Kayla letting me know she'd need a few more minutes. Fine by me. I could wait.

I leaned back, shut my eyes for a moment, then turned on the radio out of boredom. Outside, the wind was starting to whip the snow sideways, the storm gathering itself like it was stretching before a workout. The cold bit through the car windows, but thank god for AC.

"And next," the man on the radio said, his voice too upbeat for the weather, "we're talking about TechForge and a possible leak involving some sort of… mysterious project."

I sighed. "Here we go…"

A woman joined in, her tone playful. "Oh, yes. The infamous Project Phoenix—or, as some online are calling it, 'the maybe-it's-real-maybe-it's-not super AI security system thing.'"

A ridiculous laughter track played, fake as hell.

I grimaced. "God, that laugh again…"

The man continued, "Sources say this supposed project could, if true, be a game changer in digital and home security technology. Facial analysis, environmental monitoring, integrated self-learning modules—sounds like sci-fi to me."

The woman chimed in, "Or a really fancy toaster. We don't know."

Another canned laugh followed.

I shook my head. "Kill me."

"But," the man said, lowering his voice dramatically, "here's where it gets interesting. An anonymous leaker provided what they claimed was information on who's working on the project. No names, but descriptions of several team members—engineers, coders, upper management. Of course, we can't verify any of this, but speculation online is intense."

The woman jumped in. "And the leaker's identity? Totally unknown. Shocker."

Fake laughter erupted again.

"However," the man continued, "we do have confirmed eyewitness accounts of a chase outside the TechForge building last week. A man, presumably an employee, was seen running after another individual through downtown."

"Oh yes!" the woman said, excitement rising. "I saw the online clip. That poor guy was sprinting like someone stole his lunch. Maybe the suspect took his sandwich."

Another explosion of corny laughter.

I groaned, rubbing my eyes. "One more laughter track and I'm breaking this dashboard…"

The man kept going, "Authorities have not commented, and TechForge released a vague statement dismissing the event as a 'misunderstanding.' But many wonder if this chase was connected to the rumored leak."

"Could be leak-related, or maybe the runner owed him money," the woman said. "Or maybe he just really wanted his sandwich back. We may never know!"

More fake laughter.

"They like to talk, huh?" I muttered.

Just then, movement caught my eye. Kayla came out of her apartment, hurrying toward the car. She had on a long coat, tight pants, gloves, and a purple beanie pulled low. Her cheeks and nose were red from the cold.

She yanked open the passenger door and hopped in. "Brrr—holy shit, I'm freezing. Turn on the AC!"

I chuckled. "It's already on."

"Make it more ON!" she laughed.

I turned the AC level from seven to ten. "More on it is."

"You're the moron."

"Huh? Oh… God, that joke," I groaned. "Just leave the car, please."

"Oh, shut up." She grinned, rubbing her hands together. "Come on, drive. I'm itching for an ice white chocolate mocha."

"You're drinking iced mocha?" I asked, easing the car forward.

"Yep. Problem?"

"It's freezing out there. Why not something hot?"

"Is there a rulebook saying I can't drink iced mocha when it snows?"

"Well, I mean…" I lifted both hands. "You know what? Nevermind."

I shot her a look. She was… different. Lighter. Looser. Happier. Like something inside her had finally unclenched. Guess that dinner with Mendy did more than patch things up—it flipped a switch in her.

She actually looked like a social butterfly for once.

"Penelope actually texted me, by the way," Kayla said as she fixed a strand of hair behind her ear. "She told me I was tolerable at the dinner. And get this, Evan—she actually thanked me for being on Mendy's side."

"She called me too," I said. "Penelope's a good friend, Kayla. She thinks for her people. Everyone needs one Penelope in their life, can't lie."

"For real," she nodded. "Wish I had a friend like her."

"You don't?" I asked. "Hey, what about me?"

"A friend who doesn't fuck me on a massage table," Kayla snorted. "Like a normal friend. Unlike you."

"Man…" I shook my head. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"Well, treat me to an iced mocha and I'll accept your apology."

"That's a deal."

At a red light, I leaned back and glanced over. Kayla had turned her phone camera on and was checking her makeup. Her nose and cheeks were still pink from the cold, and her lips were glossy. Then my eyes dipped… and yeah, those tight pants were working overtime. Her ass looked insane. Her thighs too. She could sit on me and I'd probably thank her for it.

Okay. Chill. We were grabbing coffee. Don't be a creep. Don't stare. Don't—

"Get those dirty eyes off my ass," she said with a smirk, not even looking away from her phone.

"Oh—shit," I muttered, caught off guard. "I thought I saw a fly or something. I was looking at that."

"Uh-huh," she said, unconvinced.

"I'm serious."

The light turned green. I drove. Kayla finished fixing her look, put her phone in her back pocket, and stared out at the snowy street.

"Did you know I actually got stuck to a street lamp once?" she said casually.

"Huh?"

"Okay, wrong wording," she laughed. "You know how in cartoons they lick the street lamp and get tehir tongues stuck? I thought it was fake. Tried it. Got stuck."

"Basic physics, one. Kayla, zero."

"I was ten."

We both laughed... man, this was good.

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