Assistant Agent in Charge, Milton Chambers, returned to the suburban coffee shop on a quiet Thursday morning. This time, he chose a small table for 2; a spot by the window, where he could watch the door as well as the counter. It suited him perfectly. Luckily, only a handful of people moved about the white and brown checkered seating area. Scents of vanilla and hazelnut hung in the air, so he ordered a steaming cup to sip while passing the time. Though most people found it boring, he enjoyed surveillancing people. He even liked making them squirm from time to time.
An incoming storm brewed on the horizon and many heeded its warning. Not him. Even as dark clouds settled high above, the serious gentleman turned his chair slightly to get a better view of the petite woman scurrying about. He had a feeling that she’d quickly notice.
With coffee in hand, he stared at the high-strung woman. In black jeans and a company T-shirt containing the Brew Box logo, which consisted of an image of a brown box of coffee, she had her long hair pulled back with pink material and wore mauve lipstick on her full lips. She stayed focused on her job, giving him time to observe her without much attention. In fact, he kind of enjoyed staring at a pretty woman and not the usual bad guys.
He thought about her as well as Scott Page, who she once knew as a boy named Henry. Together, they had been forced into some secret government program. Things get murky after that. He needed to clear that up. He knew it wouldn’t be easy. Paperwork was shredded decades ago, and no one was keen to awaken old ghosts. Like her, Scott resisted remembering, though Ninon had been lured into some other Black Op program in the present time. That hampered getting to the truth, though he certainly would try. It might ruffle some feathers here and there, but he didn’t mind pressing on.
In the past few days, Milton had started hanging out more with Supervisory Special Agent Scott Page while not letting on about his interest in The Finders. It was Jan in fact who first contacted him. She gave him all the information that Scott had entrusted with her, but could no longer pursue due to pressure from above. With too many red flags, Milton saw it as his duty to give his assessment on the case. Calm and collected, he’d swoop in and decide what should be done about it before getting others involved. At the moment, it was this mysterious creature who was on his radar. And he waited for her to notice.
Going about her usual work day, Ninon placed a steaming cup of coffee on the counter for an aloof business woman with resting bitch-face and abruptly froze when she noticed the intense man in the suit sitting there, staring at her. Their gazes locked and she appeared confused. Her dark eyebrows raised and she paused as if questioning his intentions of being there. Surely he was just a customer. Wasn’t he?
Though she returned to her next coffee order, she peeked back. His attention interested her. To be honest, she liked being the object of his focus, which made her feel like the center of the universe; at least his.
Even if she didn’t know what really went through his mind, she wondered if maybe he read a sense of sadness and loneliness in her expression as well as in her movements. Maybe he found her vulnerable. Whatever it was that captivated him, his complete attention aroused her. He sat motionless, as if absorbed by her. Usually that might have alarmed her, but he had the Law Enforcement vibe, so she tried to get a sense of who he was and what he might want? He didn’t seem to be overtly trying to intimidate her. But he didn’t hide the fact that he was interested in her either.
Part of her wanted to run and to not get dragged into his game, but she was drawn to him like a woman to a vampire, knowing that it was dangerous, yet moaning as he slowly sucked her dry. And enjoying it. I hope he can’t read my mind.
Milton made a few assumptions. It was as if she wanted to reach out, but didn’t know how. He made it clear to her that he was watching her, but softened his gaze. An almost tender moment passed between them, and he gave a soft smile, which seemed to confuse her even more. She slowly turned away and stared at the counter for a moment before busying herself again with her job. He felt that maybe his attention overwhelmed her somewhat and he might have been correct about that. But she seemed keen on discovering what this may be all about. He would let her mull over it.
Most importantly, Milton didn’t find her dangerous, though he needed to approach her with caution, especially after what happened with Scott, as well as her ability to manipulate his memories with hypnosis. That thought made him very uncomfortable. He didn’t have much experience with hypnosis or have any awareness about his susceptibility. For that reason, he remained vigilant and didn’t rush things. This was new territory for him.
Like him, Ninon had her own concerns, so she kept a look-out for him. This dark stranger came in a few other times over the next two weeks. She started looking forward to it. Finally, one day she had the nerve to speak to him. She held the coffee cup out to him and let her hand brush against his. His warmth startled her cold hand, but she made her move.
“Hello, Milton,” she said, pointing to his name on the cup.
Her voice came across as soft and hesitant, but curious.
“Hello, Ninon,” he said back to her, making sure that he used her name to let her know that he was aware of who she was, or giving her the impression that he at least read her name tag…or file.
His own voice was deep, naturally commanding, and used to a level of respect. Though appearing serious, he had a touch of concern and even a hint of humor about him, as if waiting for her next move. It was as if he was ready for the game and willing to play it, but his no-nonsense approach said that he might keep her in check.
“Are you keeping tabs on me, Milton?”
“No,” he assured her, “But let’s just say that I’m interested in your story.”
“Oh,” she said, a little surprised. She bit her bottom lip and added, “Is that all?”
“Well,” he admitted, leaning a little closer as if to tell her a secret. “I’m in love with this coffee brand.”
Trying to suppress a smile, she remarked, “Yes, this coffee is quite addictive. You might want to quit while you can.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not a quitter.”
“And you really care about my story?”
He nodded, making her gulp.
Trying to assess him, she had a feeling that he was different from Scott. This man with intense eyes wouldn’t put up with any games for long. He’d defeat her in an instant. Maybe she wanted him to. His intimidating bearing kept her intrigued.
“Can I speak to you?” she asked, “After work?”
“Of course.”
His deep, booming voice comforted her, offering a sense of trust that she so badly needed. But her worried eyes searched his darker ones. Behind that empathy lied secrets, yet those brown orbs held a compassion that mystified her. She planned her next move.
“Okay. Then meet me at the bar by my house.”
“Which one?”
“You are FBI. Figure it out.”
A little annoyed, he glared at her, but then paused and said, “Okay. I can be there in a couple hours.”
She nodded, a little pleased with herself, sensing that she got under his skin. Her smile widened. And he narrowed his gaze at her. She took note of that.
“I’m not interested in having my time wasted,” he warned her. “I need you to be serious with me.”
“No games.”
“All right. I’ll take you at your word.”
“See you soon,” she purred.
She watched him walk away. So sure of his movements, he didn’t even turn around to look at her. He probably already knew that she was watching.
At that moment, her co-worker, who was a spiky-haired man in his forties and who had several large tattoos on his arms, stopped sweeping and said to her, “That guy looks like trouble.”
“Trouble always has a way of finding me.”
“Be careful.”
“I will, Deddy. Thanks.”
The bleached blond man with the scar above his upper lip nodded and continued sweeping, while she prepared to leave for the day. She stocked cups and refilled what seemed low in stock, but peeked back at him. Though a new hire, the usually aloof man had seemed concerned about her. Usually, she didn’t mesh well with people, but she decided to keep him at an arm’s length until she could figure him out. After all, she didn’t need anyone else in her business.
Ninon clocked out a few minutes later. She ran home to change, not wanting to be wearing a uniform. It felt a little demeaning to her, and she wanted to appear more on his level, which was nearly impossible, in her mind. Wearing a dress might make her feel more confident and feminine, so she chose a dark blue one. Nothing fancy; it clung to her thin body, but appeared more conservative than the other clothes in her closet. She wanted him to like her. Deep down, she knew better, but part of her still wanted to be desired. It was a flaw, but she felt she deserved a little excitement from time to time.
Imagining him out with friends, she tried to read into his tastes. Yes, a seduction choice might have him drooling. After all, he was a red-blooded man. But something more casual would possibly relax him and let him see deeper; maybe even to the abyss of her life, because maybe she needed him to meet her there, in that dark space.
“Here goes nothing,” she sighed, as she brushed her long hair and then sprayed a mellow perfume on her neck, while checking her image in the mirror.
Once satisfied, she put on a pair of flats and walked to the dive bar, which was only a few minutes down the street. The air was cool, but enjoyable for a stroll, and the night always had a way of embracing both her and her secrets, where she didn’t feel exposed. Soon, the downstairs bar came into view. With blacked out windows and a Neon open sign, it invited patrons to a lonely evening on a dead-end road. There, they can face the depths of their minds or avoid them with bitter drinks.
Dark inside and not very busy, it was frequented by the town drunks, who didn’t care for anything fancy. With wood-paneled walls and peeling red bar stools, it offered a comfortable enough place where the forlorn could either sit in silence or commiserate. No one would pay her much attention there. It wasn’t exactly a hook-up place. And even if the locals recognized her from The Brew Box, she never came across as friendly or approachable. She enjoyed a drink on occasion there, especially after the fiasco with Scott. She knew she shouldn’t make the same mistake twice, though maybe Scott was right when he suggested that she might be a slave to patterns. He was FBI after all and he might know a thing or two about that, but she didn’t want to believe it.
Ninon sensed an ominous undercurrent when Milton arrived at the bar a few minutes later, still in his FBI suit. His intentions blurred; did he seek to liberate or manipulate her like so many others? The stakes were high; her mind potentially a battleground. Even Milton’s piercing eyes offered no clear answers. Haunted by doubt, Ninon wrestled with her growing suspicion: could he really be an ally, or was she just another pawn for the Government?
Waiting for him to make a move, she cautiously sat on a bar stool in the back corner. He slowly appeared beside her. Taller and broader than she was, he intimidated her a little bit. Having a tough exterior, he kept his personal emotions hidden, though a sense of balanced scales hung over him. Like her, he moved in the shadows along with other creatures of the night; each with their own agenda. She was just one more problem to get rid of, she assumed.
While Milton liked to wear dark blue or black, Scott liked to wear gray and other light colors. Damn. Why did that thought surface? She tried to sever thoughts about him. Otherwise, she might project onto this man. But honestly, Milton was more her type. She had to keep that fact in check, though a smile spread across her face. For a moment, she longed for him to pull her into his teddy bear arms. Unfortunately, he was only here for his own agenda. Upon that thought, she downed a shot of whiskey. She knew that she couldn't handle the truth and wanted it to burn on its way down to destroy the memories that he desired. She really didn’t want to share them.
“Have trouble finding the place?” she asked, almost wishing she hadn’t made him find her.
With just a shake of his head, he turned away from her to focus on the haggard bartender meandering over to him. He ordered a Scotch, and then the two of them shared a few uncomfortable moments until he broke the silence.
“What do you long for?” he asked her, trying to approach her in a non-threatening manner. His eyes sought to read her, even secrets she kept behind a barricaded wall. She seemed rather closed off, so he had to try to slip past her defenses.
After absorbing his unexpected words, she tensed. No one ever asked that before. It took her breath away for a moment. This certainly caught her off guard, but she quickly composed herself and answered him.
“To be seen.”
“I’m looking right at you.”
She let his attention soak in. His kind gaze roamed over her simple blue dress and up to her stud earrings, which her pulled-back hair revealed. Yes, she liked being seen by this sexy man. Somehow, it made her feel less alone. Even his deep voice soothed her. It found a way to vibrate against her heart. To be desired would have been a bonus, but his authoritative body language made it clear that he was on a job. That jolted her back to reality.
“I’m sure you read my file and you already made up your mind about things. Plus, you are judging me and that assumption certainly cloaks everything else that I happen to be, beneath all that. Believe it or not, I’m so much more, not some one-sided notation in a file.”
“Then help me understand.”
“Like, what?”
“Why don’t you just stop working for Ryder?”
“I don’t know how. Maybe I do want to have control of my life again. Then again, maybe I don’t.”
“Do you want me to speak to him?”
“No, that wouldn’t bode well for me. I’d be terminated. Besides, I think he is losing interest in my services.”
He stared at her for a long moment, trying to decide how to make his next move. She tried to keep a poker face.
“Do you want me to look into what happened to you, when you were young?”
“No,” she whispered. “I only want you to see who I am now.”
“And, what is that?”
“A barista who happens to want a drink with a strange man.”
“Surely you want more than that.”
She turned to directly face him. Her green eyes met his brown ones like a whirling abyss, where inner monsters waited for something; maybe to be recognized and to be let out into the open where they could be healed. If only….
To be honest, she also wanted to see him and to know him more fully. Quite a task. She let her attention touch his neatly trimmed hair and mustache and then caress his handsome face before lowering to his broad shoulders and strong arms, which she wanted wrapped around her.
“Be careful, Milton. I could fall for you.”
“Maybe meeting in a bar was a bad idea.”
“I don’t think so.”
With a slight grin and chuckle, he said, “Ninon, you haven’t a clue of what I’m really like. What do you even know about me, besides my being an agent looking into your past?”
Shaking her head, as if to disagree with that notion, she whispered, “I love that you are kind. What more do I need?”
“I can be kind,” he told her, with a nod, “But I also can roughly take down people, and I’ve done that many times.”
Their meeting was shrouded in tension; her reluctant eyes futilely searched his steady ones for truth. Did he genuinely want to assist her, or was there a deeper motive? As Milton leaned in closer as if to speak and his gaze remaining intense, he knew one thing: the scales of their futures hung by a thread. Her testimony could change everything, if only she could trust him, and would she? And the Agency expected results. That put a lot of pressure on him.
She had her suspicions, and she revealed them.
“Did Scott send you?”
“No, he doesn’t know that I’m looking into things.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be.”
“Give me a chance. I don’t back down. Let me go after anyone who harmed you.”
A shiver went through her, arousing her a little. She wanted to be held in his big bear arms, to just feel safe and vulnerable for a moment. Somehow, that seemed a bit too much. She downed some more whiskey.
More numb from the alcohol, she replied, “I like that you are willing to have my back. Good to know. But I need a friend, not an agent.”
A bemused expression passed over his face, yet she wasn’t sure if was laughing at her. It was hard to tell. She studied his features, suddenly wondering how his mustache would feel against her skin. His 5 o’clock shadow might scrape her tender areas, but the roughness contrasted by his tongue….
“You wanted to talk, Ninon. Talk.”
That knocked her back from her fantasy. He was an agent, not the friend she longed for.
She hesitated, but finally said, “I’m still trying to figure out if I can trust you.”
His larger hand went on top of hers and she flinched; not because she didn’t want him touching her, but because she did. It was warm and made her tingle. She took a slow, deep breath and tried to compose herself. He was quite aware of the reaction that he had upon her. Maybe it pleased him, but he pulled his hand away because of her alarmed expression.
“Please, Ninon. I’m here right now. Give me a chance.”
“Maybe I want more than you can give.”
“I’ll be around until you figure out what you want,” he flatly told her. “I can be an ally, if you let me..”
“Why don’t I believe that?”
“Because I work for the Government?”
“Precisely.”
He gave her his card and simply said, “Let me know if you want help with your situation or with whatever happened to you. I’m a busy man, so make it worth my while.”
Oh, I certainly would.
As he got up to leave, she wanted to beg, “Don’t go.”
Instead, she simply nodded and said, “Thanks,” though she slumped over her drink and felt defeated all over again.
Sighing, he gently patted her back and told her, “Don’t give up. There is time to sort through things. When you are ready, just tell me what I can do for you.”
“Want to come back to my place?”
He let out a soft laugh and said, “I don’t think that is a good idea.”
Kiss me hard before you go, she thought. She slowly pushed a loose strand of her long hair back behind her ear and studied him. She searched hard for any hint of attraction. His serious expression softened and his eyes promised that he’d like nothing more, but he was here on business. That was too plain to see.
“Thanks, Milton.”
With a final nod, he strolled toward the heavy wooden door and shut it behind him, leaving her in the thick air of misery. There, she stared into her empty shot glass, trying to divine her future. Only emptiness remained.
What did she want? She wanted to know him better, to find solace in his unwavering stance. That wasn’t about to happen. It made it hard not to cry, but she held back the pain.
I know that you can read my desire. We don’t need words. We can plainly see what is evident. And I don’t want to change a single memory about you, from the first day that I saw you in the coffee shop until now. I want to stay here with you in my daydreams of you forever. Time goes by so slowly here. Anything can happen.
But he doesn’t want me in his world. He wants me on the other side of the fish bowl. Am I just something to catch and offer a different kind of cage? He cast his lure in to get me. I’m tempted. I want him to reel me in. Am I that easy? This large hole in me is making it so.
Come on. I might even let you devour me. Let’s get it over with.