Page 101 of Stars At Dusk

Luckily for her, the team was highly skilled and professional, filling in for her lack of concentration, even though they were down one man. Aran, specifically. Mirage had informed her he was on indefinite, forced leave on Kage’s orders.

Harlow wondered what the young man had done to warrant the censure. She hoped he was OK and placed a reminder in her diary to reach out to him via his comm sign later on that day.

The team focused on prepping for the final test of the hybrid fuel combination, utilising a two-stage, suborbital launch vehicle.

They had to ensure their calculations were on point, so she and her team spent most of the day crunching numbers repeatedly. The test itself was going ahead in a few days time; the test location was on the lunar sands beyond Eden II’s metro dome.

She was nervous about the outcome and whether her hybrid fuel formula would prove itself. She was worried about Kage’s and the entire Sable Group team’s reaction if it didn’t. If it failed, all the work they’d poured into it these last few weeks was for naught.

By the time evening fell on the moon rock, Harlow was ready to shatter, on the edge of losing her shit.

She took the 1800 shuttle to the surface and hurried to her suite.

She soon found herself changing and heading for the lifts. She crossed the road from 517 towards 498 and The Osirian and entered under the watchful eye of Mojo, the bouncer from last night. He gave her a tight nod, keeping his eyes narrowed on her as she walked in.

Silani, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Moments later, Harlow was at the bar and sat before Jarok.

He smiled kindly at her, and she instantly knew why she’d been drawn back here.

‘Miss Harlow, good to see you.’

‘And I you.’

‘Same drink?’ he asked with a raised eyebrow.

‘Yes, please,’ she smiled.

The older man was certainly welcoming and kind. He felt warm and familiar. Her therapist would have told her this was a dangerous emotion to indulge in because she was probably substituting this man’s kindness for her sperm donor’s neglect. She didn’t care. She liked his cocktails, and his stories last night had intrigued her. She wanted more.

‘Jarok,’ she said to the man during rum out into a shaker. ‘Do you remember any other Allorian folk tales?’

‘I do,’ he said, surprised she’d asked.

‘Indulge me with more,’ she encouraged.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked quietly.

‘Yes, please.’

He leaned in and regaled her with a series of fantastical stories and fairy tales. He added in some poems and even a few Allorian jokes.

Harlow’s heart lightened with every word. It was truly remarkable how Jarok’s words had the power to lift her spirits ever so gently.

Finally fully relaxed, her cheeks hurting from laughing so hard and smiling, she stood to her feet. ‘Thank you, Jarok. I really needed that. I must away, but I’ll be back for more.’

And that was how the rest of the week unfolded. She would leave work, change from her work wear into a comfortable outfit and head into The Osirian.

On day three, Jarok added a small plate of delectable snacks to her order. He also shared more tales from their homeland.

On day 4, he taught her to make a mango daiquiri - her fave new cocktail - letting her step behind the bar to take her through the motions. Later, she attended a trivia night and said she would return for a karaoke event the following week. She’d never thought she’d enjoy herself so much with a barman.

By day 5, Harlow was mixing drinks beside Jarok, albeit with his precise instructions.

Through it all, Silani was MIA. She’d found a new job. Or rather, an opening had been found for her at a club on the other end of town.

Jarok dropped this morsel of news with a straight face one evening while he cleaned a set of glasses, and Harlow practised making a classic dirty martini. She hid a smile, opened an olive jar and kept her mouth shut - because she preferred to keep her schadenfreude to herself.

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