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“Ernest. May I speak with you?”
She passed through the doors of the Layton Detective Agency several minutes past closing, but Ernest was still hard at work sweeping, cleaning, filing, sorting, and planning. “I’m sorry, but we’re closed for the--Emiliana?”
“Ernest Greeves. I have quite the case on my hands.”
“I’m happy you’d come to us for help! Unfortunately, Kat’s already left for the night, so…”
“I’m well aware. Katrielle leaves work ten minutes early every day and leaves the chores to you. That's why I came now.”
Ernest paused, then spoke. “I’ll pour you some tea.”
“What did you want to talk about?”
Emiliana pulled the cup of tea towards herself. “You know by now I aim to be the perfect profiler. A person’s every move, every word, every quirk--I strive to take in these mannerisms analytically and predict a subject’s next moves with ease.”
“Sure. You're a great at what you do.”
“Yes. This I know.” Elbows on the table, she laced her fingers together and rested her chin on her hands.
“But you needed my help?”
“Katrielle’s birthday.”
“Oh, of course! Next week!”
Emiliana continued speaking as though Ernest had never opened his mouth. “I know everything there is to know about Katrielle on paper. As is simply careful practice within my profession, which I would hope you would understand.”
Ernest smiled courteously through Emiliana’s backhanded manner of speaking. “Mhm?” He prompted her to continue, though he doubted she needed a cue.
“But I can’t think of a gift that would really make her happy. She would like a hat or an accessory in the moment, but that would soon enough just become another item in her vast wardrobe. She likes sweets. I was considering getting her a ticket to a dessert buffet. But food is something that disappears even more quickly.” She lifted the teacup to her lips, thought for a moment, then spoke. “I want to give her something that matters.”
“I think she’d be happy to know how much thought you’re putting into this. I understand why you would want to give her something that shows her how you feel about her.”
Emiliana nearly spat out her tea. In her effort to keep it inside her mouth the tea found its way down her windpipe, driving her into a quite undignified coughing fit. “How I--” she started, hacking up the earl grey that had mistaken her lungs for an emergency exit, “How I feel about her??”
“I don't think the dessert buffet is a bad idea at all. But maybe you should make it two tickets rather than one.”
“Excuse me?”
Expert profiler, huh, Ernest thought to himself. “You said you want to make her happy, right?” He topped off her cup, as the majority of its contents surely now rested at the bottom of Emiliana’s lungs.
“Excellent listening comprehension.”
Ernest left the table for a moment to flip through the Rolodex across the room, copied down the information from a particular card, then returned to his seat across from Emiliana. “This is Kat’s favorite patisserie in the area. I’m not sure if they do buffets, but the owner is a friend of Katrielle’s so if you mention her by name I’m sure he would love to help you out.” He handed her the card. “I think it would make her even happier if you were there with her.”
“...What are you implying?”
“Isn’t it your job to figure that out?”
The next week Katrielle met Emiliana at the corner down the street from the agency, as stipulated in a rather clinical letter from Emiliana. Emiliana had seen Katrielle waiting at the crosswalk, but pretended she hadn’t and looked the other way because, for some reason, her face had turned bright red at the sight of Katrielle with her hair tied up.
“Emiliana!” Katrielle called and tried to flag her down from across the street corner, waving her hand above her head. Emiliana waved back at her--or, rather, put her hand up and wiggled her fingers a bit. The way Katrielle’s hair bounced when the wind blew was quite distracting.
Katrielle crossed the street and joined Emiliana. “Hi!”
“Oh, you made it!”
“Of course. I mean, my office is right there.” Katrielle pointed across the street.
“Ah. Mm. Yes.”
Katrielle beamed. “So, what’s this surprise?”
Emiliana walked toward the bakery, and Katrielle walked alongside her. “I’m sure you’ve figured out it’s a birthday present…”
“It doesn’t take a great detective to figure that out!”
Emiliana laughed softly. She opened the door to a familiar bakery, whose door read “Closed for Private Event.”
Waiting for them inside was an ethereal splay of baked goods, occupying two long tables set up across the center of the shop.
“Oh. My. Goodness.” Katrielle clasped her hands together. “Is this heaven? Am I dead? Emiliana, are you an angel? Oh! Hold me!” She leaned against an unsuspecting Emiliana, who nearly toppled over on contact.
“Happy birthday, Katrielle Layton.”
“Thank you! Oh my gosh, it’s like I’m living a dream!” She pulled one of the two chairs out and took a seat. “I don’t even know where to start… Well, the one in front of me is as good a start as any, huh! Let’s get down to business!” She grabbed a fork and took a deep breath.
Emiliana took her seat next to Katrielle, marvelling at how easy to please her colleague was. Her simplicity was refreshing.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Try some of this cake! I swear, this bakery is the best in London.” Impatient, Katrielle popped her fully loaded fork into Emiliana’s mouth when she opened it to respond.
Emiliana was surprised, but steeled herself not to allow more food matter to find its way into her respiratory system. She chewed and swallowed. Her eyes lit up. “Oh!” She pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose--they had slipped down on impact. “This is wonderful, actually.”
“You don't eat desserts often, huh? This is my chance!” Katrielle practically dove across the table to grab another forkful of cake.
“Not often. You know, I am capable of--” Katrielle's pick of desert interrupted Emiliana before she was able to suggest she could use her own fork. “Oh. Blueberry?”
“Ah!!” she screamed.
“What??”
“I should give you something that compliments your personality… Hm…” She carefully surveyed the table before handing Emiliana a plate with a slice of cake and a fork of her own. At last, Emiliana thought.
“Chocolate ganache,” Katrielle explained as Emiliana took a bite. “I think it’s a very sophisticated cake. The smooth texture strikes me as very mature. Quite disciplined. It’s got some bitter undertones but the rich sweetness of the flavor is a favorite of mine!” She smiled at her. “What do you think?”
“I like it. Though it is a bit dense.”
Katrielle covered her mouth to hide her laughter. “It. I-it really is, isn't it.” She scrunched up her face to hold back tears.
Emiliana finished chewing.
“Well. You know what would be a good chaser, then?” She picked up another plate and passed it along. “This peach tart. It’s a light flavor. Very sweet and creamy. Pretty different from the ganache, but I think they go well together. And it’s got a bit of tang to keep it interesting.”
Emiliana tried the tart. “Oh, I quite like this.”
Katrielle leaned forward. “They compliment each other well, don't they?”
After that statement, Emiliana became silent for what must have been a solid five minutes as the cogs in her deductive mind churned, throughout which Katrielle maintained unwavering eye contact.
Emiliana narrowed her eyes at Katrielle and, finally, spoke. “Are you flirting with me?”
Katrielle flew back in her chair, took a moment to thank the lord above for the miracle of Emiliana’s deduction, then responded, “Yes! Yes I am!”
“Oh!”
“I have been since the day we met, as a matter of fact!”
“...Oh!”
Katrielle leaned forward again. “...Well??” she prompted.
“Well.” Emiliana blinked. She turned red once more. “Your feelings… are reciprocated.”
Katrielle flung her hands up to the ceiling in rejoice. “There it is, folks!”
Emiliana took a sip of water to try to cool herself down--her face was red enough with heat to pass for a fever.
Katrielle handed her another dessert. “Well, now that we’re girlfriends, you’re going to have to get desserts with me much more often. You’d best get accustomed.”
Emiliana cracked a smile. “Girlfriends?”
“If you’re okay with that.”
“I’m okay with that.”
“It’s settled!”
Emiliana took another bite of her fifth dessert of the evening and also, frankly, of the year.
“You know,” Katrielle started. “I’ve solved some difficult puzzles in my day.” She looked at Emiliana. “But the puzzle of how to get you to take a hint really takes the cake.”