Page 65 of Anarchy Missing

I shrug. “Either, I guess.”

“You said something about Lincoln having Sheila. That she’s different. Different how?”

I shake my head. “Sorry, not my business to tell. You’ll have to ask Lincoln about her if you’d like to know more.”

“Will I get a chance to ask Lincoln?”

“Probably not.”

“Why are you so morose?”

I set down my fork and exhale a long breath of air. “This isn’t going how I’d imagined it.”

“What isn’t? Your little plan for the city?”

“No,” I snap. “Lunch with you.”

“Because we’re not having the nooner?”

When I look up at her she’s smirking at me.

“That, sure,” I say. “But mostly, Lulu… I just like you. And you’re not the person I imagined you’d be.”

“You’re not the person I imagined either,” she whispers. “I never imagined we’d be here on opposite sides.”

“We’re not on opposite sides. You’re letting your imagination run away with you. Maybe you’ve been listening to someone down at City Hall and they’ve corrupted your view of me. Or maybe you’re just cynical and want to see me in this light because it fits your worldview.”

She puts her fork down too. “OK. Maybe that’s true. I certainly don’t have much knowledge of you and the things I saw in that video—the Blue Corp stuff—it was pretty weird, Case. But you’re not doing us any favors by keeping secrets.”

“You’re only here to trap me. And if you’d at least admit that, I’d have some more faith in you. But you won’t.” I pause. “So I can’t.”

“Fine,” she says, lifting her napkin off her lap and placing it over her plate of Stevegetti. “You want the truth? Here’s the truth. Randy thinks you and your friends are the ones responsible for the robbery. He wants me to seduce you, get all your secrets, and then report back to him. That’s why I came to lunch with you today.”

“Well, that’s just perfect.” I throw my napkin on my plate as well.

“Your turn.”

“No.” I laugh. “I already had my turn. Everything I told you was true.”

“You’re leaving things out, Case.”

“All things that have nothing to do with you or this absurd theory you have.”

She shakes her head and frowns. “I want you to trust me to help you.”

“I don’t need any help. We don’t need any help. I just like you, OK? Why can’t we just be friends and not worry about fixing me?”

She considers this for a few moments. “So… the nooner?”

I crack a smile at that. “It’s a much better option than all this arguing.”

“And pretend none of this is happening?” she asks.

“I’m so into delusional denial, you have no idea. Practically turns me on.”

“I think the mood has been ruined, don’t you?”

“I can fix it, Miss Lightly. Trust me, I have moves. I can make us a nice fire, get out the wine, put on some porn…”

She presses her lips together, trying not to smile.

“Before you know it, I’ll have my hand between your legs, stroking your pussy…”

“Jesus Christ,” she laughs.

“We’ll fuck, then fuck again, then again. Then fall asleep, enjoying the snow day, or riot day, or apocalypse day—whatever you want to call it—and then wake up and fuck some more… Come on,” I say, a little plea in my offer. “Forget your job. Just have fun with me. All this bullshit will still be here when we’re done. And we’re stuck here. Like it or not. We can’t do anything today. The snow will make the rioters go home soon and then tomorrow will look totally different.”