Saturday morning in the city was a different beast than the weekdays. The "Arctic Shelf" of the office was replaced by the warm, toasted-sugar smell of The Golden Bean, a trendy cafe near the university.
Michael sat at a small bistro table, watching his younger sister, Sarah, recount her latest biology midterm with enough hand gestures to launch a plane.
"And then the professor looks at me—straight in the eye, Mike—and says, 'Miss Smith, your hypothesis on cellular regeneration is... bold.' I nearly died! But I got the A!"
Michael laughed, reaching across to ruffle her hair. "That’s my sister. The future Dr. Smith. I told you that scholarship was worth the stress."
"Speaking of stress," Sarah leaned in, her eyes sparkling with sibling curiosity. "How’s the 'Dragon Lady' at the office? You haven't complained about her in weeks. Did she finally breathe fire and get arrested?"
Michael choked on his latte. "She’s... she’s not a dragon, Sarah. She’s just... focused. Very, very focused."
"Uh-huh. Sure," Sarah rolled her eyes. "I’m going to go grab us two more blueberry muffins. Don't let anyone steal our table!"
As Sarah hopped up and headed for the counter, the bell above the door jingled.
Michael froze.
Stepping into the cafe was Lizbeth Jones. She was wearing a soft lavender cardigan and a pair of oversized glasses that made her look like an exhausted grad student rather than a corporate titan. She was staring at her phone, her lips moving silently—practicing her order, no doubt.
Please don't see me, please don't see me, Michael pleaded internally, ducking behind a napkin dispenser.
"Excuse me! Miss?"
Michael’s heart stopped. That was Sarah’s voice.
He peeked around the dispenser. Sarah had accidentally bumped into Lizbeth while turning away from the counter. A pastry bag had fallen to the floor.
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Sarah exclaimed, bending down to pick it up. "I wasn't looking where I was going. Are you okay?"
Lizbeth stood frozen. Her "Iron Lady" armor wasn't just gone; it had evaporated. She looked at Sarah, her face turning a vivid shade of pink. She opened her mouth, but only a small, squeaky "Eep!" came out.
"Are you... alright?" Sarah asked, tilting her head. "You look a little faint. Do you want to sit with us? My brother is a bit of a dork, but he’s harmless!"
"I... I... no... bread..." Lizbeth stammered, her eyes darting around for an exit.
Michael realized he couldn't let his boss suffer a public meltdown. He stood up and cleared his throat. "Sarah? Everything okay over there?"
Lizbeth’s head snapped toward him. The look of pure, unadulterated betrayal in her eyes was almost comical. 'You?! Here?! Now?!' she seemed to scream silently.
"Mike! Look, I nearly took out this poor girl," Sarah said, leading a trembling Lizbeth over to their table. "This is my brother, Michael. Mike, this is... oh, I didn't get your name!"
Lizbeth looked at Michael, her hands clutching her cardigan. She looked like she wanted to teleport to the moon.
"This is Liz," Michael said quickly, using her nickname to save her the stress of her full title. "She... uh... works in my building. We’ve met a few times."
"Liz! Nice to meet you!" Sarah beamed, pulling out a chair. "Sit! Mike was just telling me about how hard his boss works. You probably know her—Lizbeth Jones? Apparently, she eats souls for breakfast."
Lizbeth sat down slowly, her soul seemingly leaving her body. She looked at Michael, then at Sarah’s bright, innocent face.
"She... doesn't... eat souls," Lizbeth managed to whisper, her voice barely audible. She looked at Sarah’s university hoodie. "Biology... major?"
Sarah’s eyes lit up. "Yes! How did you know?"
"The... the textbook in your bag," Lizbeth said, a tiny spark of genuine interest flickering through her panic. "Cellular... regeneration?"
For the next ten minutes, Michael watched in awe. Sarah, who could talk to a brick wall, dragged Lizbeth into a conversation. And Lizbeth, finding a topic she actually knew (since she had studied bio-tech logistics), started to respond. Her sentences were short, and she still turned red every time Sarah laughed, but she was talking.
"Wow, Liz, you're really smart!" Sarah exclaimed. "Mike, why didn't you tell me you had friends this cool?"
"He... didn't know," Lizbeth said, stealing a glance at Michael. For a split second, a playful, shy light danced in her eyes. "He thinks I'm... strict."
"He's a dork," Sarah waved her hand. "Anyway, I have to run to the library. Liz, it was so nice meeting you! You should come to dinner with us sometime. Mike’s treat!"
As Sarah bounced out of the cafe, a heavy silence settled over the table. Lizbeth immediately slumped, hiding her face in her hands.
"I’m going to fire you," she muffled. "I’m going to fire you so hard."
"She liked you, Liz," Michael laughed softly. "And you didn't even have to use your 'scary face' once."
Lizbeth peeked through her fingers. "She’s... she’s very loud. And nice. Like a Golden Retriever." She looked at the door Sarah had exited through. "She’s the reason you work those double shifts, isn't she?"
Michael nodded. "She’s my only family. I’d do anything to make sure she gets her degree."
Lizbeth sat up, her expression turning uncharacteristically soft. She reached into her bag and pulled out the muffin Sarah had bought her.
"She’s lucky," Lizbeth whispered. "To have a hero who doesn't mind the dragon."
She took a small bite of the muffin, her blush returning. "And... Michael? Don't tell her I'm the one who eats souls. I’d like to... keep the 'Liz' version for a little while longer."92Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs3ZLbRpkOs
and then Add to home screen.