Page 11 of Infamous Heart

Sitting next to the laptop, a black rectangle screamed for attention. The embossed silver lettering sank into the paper, demanding a thumb to run across the textured paper. I had only met Sebastian this morning. Was there any truth to the grace period before reaching out? If I contacted him, would he see me as needy? Did dating protocols apply to business?

“Screw it,” I picked up the card. Revelations had spared no expense with something as simple as their business card. If they spent money on something like this, it boded well for how the company functioned on the interior. Even Mr. Bossman’s business cards came from a cheap printer, a red flag if there ever was one.

I could call the man, and the thought of his deep voice did have its appeal, but the coward in me took the easy route. I texted him instead. Nope, delete that, too desperate. How about something casual? Oh, for Christ’s sake, no, that sounds like we’re besties. Delete. Delete.

“Hey, it’s Griffin. We met earlier today at the Beacon. Would love to talk business with you.” Love? Too strong? Would he remember me? I was about to delete the text message when my clumsy thumb hit send.

“Shit.”

Three seconds passed before I eyed the message. Why hadn’t he responded? Did I creep him out? What if he ignored strange numbers? What if…

“Griff, you’re going to drive yourself crazy. People have lives. Breathe.” My logical brain did little to calm the growing list of questions bombarding me. It was the adult equivalent of asking the popular kid to prom.

A distraction. I needed something to take my mind off my crumbling life. Reaching for the television remote, I hit the power button, prepared to drown myself in the Food Network.

“This is the third Wraith sighting in as many days. It is unknown the supervillain’s goal. This afternoon, she managed to overpower Cobalt in the Ward. However, she didn’t persist as Zipper arrived on the scene.”

The footage played. “Hey, that’s my video! Stupid reporters swiping my content. I deserve a shout-out.”

They zoomed in on the woman as the reporter cited the growing number of villains appearing in the Ward. The contour of her body gave away that she was a woman, but she was nothing more than a black silhouette of a person. Hidden in the shadows of her face, two bright white orbs shone against the darkness.

“Living shadows, great, nightmares come to life. Just what we need.”

Usually villains were robbing banks, holding up stores, or hell, securing deadly chemicals to turn the city into zombies. It had become par for the course, and we all accepted the new normal as if it weren’t insane. But this villain, she didn’t destroy ATMs, rob the food vendors, or even give a speech about her plans for world conquest. Something about her was even more unnerving than the scientist turned evil spider.

I jumped as the phone vibrated in my lap. Unlike before, there was no hesitation. I needed to see what he had written. I was going to be pissed if it was another meme from Alejandro.

“Would love to talk and look over your portfolio.”

Stay calm. Be cool. Give it a minute like you might be doing something other than pining over a text message from a sexy man. I counted to three before texting. I started to respond, let him see the three dots. Nothing he could say would make my day any worse.

“Drinks. Tonight?” The three martini glass emojis left me smiling. Funny how a simple icon can defuse the tension.

“Time and place?” See, I can be cool.

* * *

I hadn’t been into the downtown area of Vanguard City in years. Our secluded borough across the bridge maintained its quaint personality while being progressive and affordable. The city proper, however, was genuinely out of my price range and the moment I saw the prices on the drink menu, I remembered why I stuck to bars like Bottoms Up.

“Your work,” Sebastian turned the page in my portfolio. I stupidly brought the oversized book. It would have made more sense to bring my tablet to show off my work. As he eyed the images up and down, I hope he didn’t think I was one of those antiquated designers.

“It’s excellent. You have a great eye. I can see when you take a backseat to let the photography and article shine, but your best work,” he turned to a previous page, “is when you say screw the rules. There’s a risk taker hiding in there.”

In one statement, he paid me more compliments than Vincent ever had. He reached for his whisky, twirling the amber liquid in his glass before taking a sip.

Much like Sebastian’s drink, the Marigold was a swanky restaurant. The trio of candles in the middle were real wax, not the type with batteries. Even the bartender wore a dark vest and dress shirt. As I eyed the other patrons, money oozed from watches, earrings, and fancy clothes. I realized I had come underdressed. Jeans and a superhero t-shirt didn’t quite say, “I belong in the Marigold.”

“You look uncomfortable. Is everything okay?”

How do you say I’m out of my league? “I’m used to slumming it in the Ward.” I pointed to the logo on my t-shirt. “You city folk, too rich for my tastes.”

Oh good, insult the man who picked the location.

“You look just fine to me.” Wait, did he mean fine, or did he meanfine?

“You’re handsome, too.” Meeting men was so much easier when it was a blind date and your expectations were low to begin with. But knowing this man was handsome and successful, and maybe into me… it made thingscomplicated.

Sebastian laughed. “Handsome? I’ll take that. But I admit, it’s adorable watching you panic. You don’t go on a lot of dates, do you?”

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