<Who doesn’t like sweet food?> The man laughs, wrapping his hand around the door handle. He holds the door open for Cordelia.

A quaint, modernly decorated place with white lilies adorning the corners. It’s the first time she saw her favourite flower in a restaurant. A brisk, cool air hits her arms—the air conditioning is cranked to the max—not to mention they seem to be the only customers at the moment. She shivers.

Radjerd notices her discomfort. <Would you like my jacket?>

<No, keep it. Thanks.> She bristles a bit, not wanting to get too comfortable with his presence.

A host brings them to a place upstairs, overlooking the oceanfront. It’s beautiful—Cordelia has to admit. If she were to pick a place to dine—this would be it. She sits, placing her hands on her lap. It’s less cold upstairs, but it’s still a bit chilly. She takes Cordelia’s drink-order, a lemon tea with cane sugar. The perpetrator orders Berry Tea. Not the kind of drink she’d expect a man like him to drink.

<How did you find out about this place?>

<Someone at Willa Corp recommended it to me.> He grins. <They were a lot more helpful than what the online search brought up.>

She raises a golden brow. <Well, whoever recommended this place has good taste—we’ll see if the food holds up. She opens the menu, scanning down the items. A couple of sandwiches catch her eye—oh! A Garlic Butter Sausage Crepe. She’s surprised to see it served on a desserterie’s menu.

<Impressed?> Radjerd’s staring at her, again.

<I have to say—yes.> She closes her menu, deciding a simple Hot Fudge Sundae for dessert. Her dessert taste wasn’t fancy, she can thank her father for that. He always took her to simple dessert places growing up. <What are you getting?>

<Cashew Glazed Chicken, and Sour Cream Poppyseed Cake for the sweet.>

The host quickly gets the tea, Cordelia impressed by how fast she was. She mentions that since they’re the only two dining with them this afternoon, she’s got nothing to do. Was that Willa Corp’s doing?

Cordelia sips her tea, informing the host the drinks are wonderful. She waits for the woman to leave before speaking. <Now that we’re alone, speak up. That was the arrangement.> Cordelia lowers her cup.

<Fine—it’s only fair I keep up to my side of the bargain.> He grins.

<But?>

<The bigger the secret—the bigger the reward.>

<Yeah, I figured.> She leans her arms against the table. <Let’s just cut the crap. How much will you tell me if I sleep with you?>

His mouth drops, eyes wide from her response.

<Don’t play dumb—I know how this works.> Her face is flat.

<I’ll be honest—I wasn’t expecting you to get right to it.>

<Well, that depends. You have to impress me first. Give me something that my dad can use—or thinks he can use—I really don’t care. He thinks you know something, so you better get talking. Let’s start with the watch—why do you want it so bad?>

Radjerd frowns, as if he’s contemplating what he’s about to say. He replies with, <I’d love to know what he has over you.>

<That’s none of your business—and besides—he has nothing over me. It’s simply an exchange of services.>

<Like what we’re going to do?> He raises both brows.

<Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’ve told me nothing yet.>

<You’re the one that suggested it, Cordelia.> He leans his chin on his palm, stirring his tea with his free hand.

<Now see, here’s the thing. You arrive in my father’s office, threatening him, threatening me because your dimension will cease to exist. Which, fine…whatever. But now, you seem quite content. Why is that?>

<I’ve been meaning to apologise—this was how I was hoping I could make it up to you. Regarding the watch, as long as your father doesn’t build it, everything will be fine.>

<Now, that’s not going to work. He wants that thing built.> Cordelia stresses. <And you’re going to help me get there.>

<No—he can’t finish it. Under no circumstances.> Panic fills his eyes. <Cordelia—trust me. I’ve seen it—it’s horrible. God knows if anyone else is alive.>

His reaction almost convinces her he’s telling the truth. If she didn’t have half a mind, she would have been convinced.

Cordelia crosses her arms with speculation. <What did it do?>

<It …destroyed everything—or—I’m positive it did. I was whisked away so fast—I don’t know if Aleck or Fitz made it out alive.>

<Pretty considerate for someone who destroyed your world—I’m surprised you don’t want Aleck dead.>

<No—he was like a father to me.> The perpetrator bristles. <I don’t know if I can go home—ever.>

<You really believe all of this, don’t you?>

<Because it happened!> He slams his fist on the table; Cordelia jumps in alarm—her tea almost spills over the rim of her cup. His eyes widen as he withdraws his arm from the table. <Sorry.>

She doesn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t a trick—he really believes this. If he was insane, was that really his fault?

<Sounds like you had a rough go.> There was no point in being hostile. It wouldn’t get her anywhere.

<I know you don’t believe any of this, and if I hadn’t experienced it for myself—I would be in your shoes. When you saw me that night, it just happened. I went from one world to another—in a blink of an eye. I was confused, upset. But I understand why you’re scared. I regret that’s the first impression you had of me.>

She purses her lips, looking at the marble tile below. <If I didn’t intervene—would you have shot my father?>

<No. I could never kill Aleck—even after everything he did.>

Cordelia takes a deep breath. <Do you know why your Aleck had a watch built?>

He stares at her hesitantly. <Before I ask, who is your mother?>

<Merise.> She replies simply.

<Ah, so it’s just like Fitz then. Well, he built it for her.>

<Okay, why would my mother want him to build a watch? She doesn’t even know about Willa Corp.>

Radjerd freezes, apparent realization settling in. His mood changes quickly.

<Well, I could tell you—but the price will be high.> It seems more like a distraction than a desire—there’s no way someone can switch modes that quickly. Whatever, she’ll play the game—for now.

She’s about to speak, but they’re cut off by the host. She brings them their food—both more than happy to dig in.

Cordelia’s starving.

Plates cleared, Cordelia knows what she signed up for. She watches as the perpetrator taps a card onto the machine, effectively paying for their meal. Once the host leaves, he asks, <Want to sit outside? I can see you’re still cold.>

Were her goosebumps that visible? <I’m fine. How about that bench by the lookout?>

<Sounds good. I’ll meet you there.>

<Why—you’re not going to run off are you?>

<No, it’s a surprise. Just bear with me.>

Confused, she watches as he jogs up to the host. She shouldn’t leave him on his own—but—her gut’s telling her that she can.

It never leads her astray.

She walks down the stairwell, waving as she leaves the main doors. Cordelia strolls to the lookoff point bench—she sits, in awe of what she sees. Crashing waves against the tanned coloured rocks; the wind brushes her face. It’s elegant—serene. She closes her eyes, letting in a deep breath. It’s the most relaxed she felt in quite some time.

The weight of the bench shifts; Cordelia opens her eyes, next to her are three white lilies. Their petals are thick as the stems are strong—they’re fresh. It registers that he might have had something to do with the lilies she saw.

<Oh—oh wow.> She stutters.

<I heard from the grape vine that you like these.>

<You’re right—they’re my favourite. But—I didn’t think the papers did reports on things like flowers.> She laughs, a soft blush caresses her cheeks. She notices his hair tousling in the breeze—it’s curlier when the wind played with his bangs.

He smiles, leaning in. <I like that your hair’s down. Smells like coconut.>

Her toes curl—he’s so close she can hear his voice in her ear. It tingles—forcing her to shudder.

<It’s just my shampoo.>

<Reminds me of home.> His eyes glaze over for a moment before he blinks. He leans closer, yet just far enough that Cordelia can correct his behaviour. She doesn’t.

<You haven’t told me anything that warrants a kiss!> She says hotly.

<Then can I kiss you as my date?>

She closes her eyes. <Fine, but don’t think—>

He leans in, his hands glide down her back as his lips suddenly meet hers. A jolt pangs her gut as he steals her breath, his slick tongue dances with her own. Their teeth didn’t bump—not even once. He breaks away, cupping his hands behind her ears.

<How’s that?> He whispers.

She nods, her face red from exhilaration. Her eyes gloss over. <Good.>

<May I do it again?> His goofy grin endears her.

<Fine, but this is your last free pass.> She smiles before he kisses the corner of her mouth—his strong fingers massage their way behind her ears, relaxing her as his warm lips eventually cover hers. Her gut burns with yearning—striking deals with him would be easier than she thought. She climbs onto his lap, letting his hands caress her back. Thank god this bench was sturdy. He purrs against her lips.

<Thought you said this wouldn’t be easy?>

<It’s not—you’re just talented with that tongue of yours.>

<So are you.> He purrs against her cheek. God, he was making this too easy. In this moment, he wouldn’t need to give her any fancy science terms to keep going. She’d keep that to herself. Her fingers line his chest—his torso rock solid. She jolts as his hands do the same, grabbing her rear. Should she feign upset—no—she didn’t want to.

A glint catches through the brush—there’s no way leaves reflected like that—unless.

God no. Her face turns white. It’s one of them. She wasn’t supposed to be followed!

<Cordelia?> He says, more cautious than before.

<Fucking pap.> Cordelia curses as she climbs off of him. She grabs her shoe as she makes her way towards the bushes—the man from behind skitters from his place. He doesn’t put down his camera. She chucks her shoe at him but that doesn’t deter the man.

“If you post one photo I swear!”

“Under what clause?” The cheeky man smiles.

“Fine. How much do you want?” She digs through her purse, getting her phone. “Give me your camera, and I’ll wire it right now.”

He lowers his camera, deliberating briefly before he’s interrupted by the man who grabs his collar, ripping the camera from the smaller man’s hands. Without a second, he throws it on the ground, smashing it with his foot. He whimpers over the broken camera on the ground, scooping it up before he scampers off.

That’s not how she would have handled it—but alright. She won’t complain.

<I was taking care of it.> She adds—Cordelia’s anything but helpless.

<I know, but he wasn’t going to fold. I used to deal with snitches all the time. Used to beat them up too.>

<I can see that. Maybe we should cut it short—just in case there’s more around. If my parents caught wind of this, they’ll kill me.>

<Oh.> His disappointment is evident. <I hope this won’t be our last outing together.>

<It won’t be—after all—you still have information you need to share.>

He wraps an arm around her waist, leaning in for another kiss.

Three kisses is all he gets.