Page 36 of Fractured Faceoff

“Almost done,” she said without looking up, her voice bringing me back to the present.

“No rush,” I replied, leaning against the doorframe and crossing my arms.

Her lips curved into a small smile as she finished the last of the filing. There was something endearing about her when she smiled—a softness that contrasted with her usual business-like demeanor.

I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt for her. It wasn’t just physical; it was deeper than that. Isla had layers, complexities that intrigued me more than I cared to admit. She wassomeone I could see myself with, someone who challenged me in ways I hadn’t expected.

Not that that was the intended goal, but I needed to believe I would be with her. It would make things much easier.

She closed the file cabinet with a decisive click and turned to face me, smoothing out her skirt.

“All right,” she said. "Let me just get my purse."

She went back into her office and a few seconds later, stepped back out. "Ready?"

I nodded, pushing off the doorframe and meeting her gaze. “Yeah, let’s go.”

As we walked out of the office together, side by side, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this plan might lead to more than either of us had bargained for. But for now, it was enough to be in her company, plotting our next move together.

"I know this Chinese place on Fourteenth," I suggested as we walked towards the parking lot.

"Hong Kong Dining?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Their food is decent. But The Red Dragon is even better. And if you're paying..."

I huffed a breath, my lips curving up into a grin. "All right, The Red Dragon it is."

We reached the parking lot, and I paused beside my truck. "I'll meet you there, then?"

She nodded, almost shyly, which was strange because Isla had always been fierce. It was a small crack in her usual armor, and it intrigued me more than I wanted to admit.

I climbed into my truck and pulled up the directions on my phone. As I started the engine and eased out of the parking lot, my mind raced with thoughts of our conversation and the plan we were about to set in motion.

The streets of the city buzzed with evening traffic, headlights cutting through the early dusk. I rolled down the window, letting the cool breeze wash over me. The scent of exhaust mixed with distant whiffs of street food from vendors lining the sidewalks.

My thoughts drifted to Ava for a moment, but then circled back to Isla. She had at least agreed to this arrangement, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to her acceptance than she let on. She was a puzzle, one I was determined to piece together.

I navigated through a maze of streets, my fingers drumming on the steering wheel in time with the rhythm of an old country song playing softly on the radio. Each turn brought me closer to The Red Dragon, a restaurant I'd heard plenty about but never visited.

As I drove past rows of shops and neon signs flickering to life, I found myself anticipating the meal ahead—not just for the food, but for the chance to sit across from Isla and talk without any distractions. To sort this thing out.

Pulling into The Red Dragon's parking lot, I found a spot near the entrance and killed the engine. A quick glance at my watch confirmed I had made good time. Stepping out of the truck, I scanned the lot for Isla's car.

There she was, pulling in just a few spaces away. She parked and stepped out gracefully, her expression composed yet with that same hint of shyness lingering around her eyes. As she approached, I couldn’t help but notice the slight hesitation in her steps. It was a stark contrast to her usual confidence.

When she reached me, I extended my arm with a smirk. "Our first date," I said, my voice laced with mockseriousness.

She stared at me, one eyebrow arching in disbelief. For a moment, I thought she might turn and walk away.

"Come on," I added. "It won't kill you to pretend you enjoy my company."

She rolled her eyes but finally slid her arm through mine. As we walked towards the entrance, I caught a whiff of her scent—something floral and fresh, mingling with the crisp evening air. Her touch was warm against my arm, a subtle but constant reminder of our proximity.

The Red Dragon’s exterior was unassuming, with red lanterns hanging from the eaves and golden Chinese characters etched into the dark wooden facade. Inside, the ambiance changed completely. The low hum of conversation filled the air, punctuated by the clink of chopsticks against porcelain.

Rich red and gold decor adorned the walls, with intricate dragon murals weaving their way around the room. The lighting was soft and intimate, casting a warm glow over each table draped in crisp white cloths.

We were greeted by a hostess who led us to a corner table, partially secluded by an ornate wooden screen. It offered just enough privacy without isolating us completely from the lively atmosphere.

As we sat down, Isla’s eyes roamed over the menu, clearly eager despite herself.

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