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Lauren was fifteen minutes late to her blind date. She blamed Kym. A happenstance meeting had turned into an hour-long hang out, Kym suggesting that maybe she should just skip because she always ended up on dates with weirdos. But, Uncle Tristan had set this up for her, and Lauren felt like she had to see it through.
Now Lauren was sprinting through the streets, dodging pedestrians and lamp posts. A sharp left down a narrow alleyway, then a right onto the large, main street. And there was Firefly Café, right at the corner. It was a tidy little spot, warm wooden floors and good coffee, which was a necessity for Lauren’s continued existence. She had suggested it, and the blind date had agreed.
She skidded to a stop at the edge of the building, out of breath. Wiping away her sweat, she peered in through the window, squinting against the sun’s glare. The main floor looked mostly empty, a group of what looked like university students in the corner, a pair in the other, and finally a lone man sitting with his back against the wall, sipping a cup of coffee. That must be him. He was wearing a blue coat like they had agreed. Lauren in turn had worn a red skirt.
She pushed the door open, smoothing back her hair. A cheerful bell rang through the building, and the man looked up. His eyes were bright blue, his black hair neatly combed back into a ponytail at the base of his neck. As she made her way over to him, his brows furrowed.
“Hello,” she said, forcing an apologetic smile as she took the seat across from him. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Did I keep you waiting long?”
“Uh no, not at all,” he said, with a tilt of his head. His voice was warm and low, an even wave of black that tickled her ears, blue peeking through the drifting sounds. “Pardon me, but I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, Miss…?”
“Sinclair,” Lauren said, offering her hand. “Lauren Sinclair. But please just call me Lauren.”
They shook hands, his grip firm. He smiled a charming smile, and he leaned forward across the table. “Then please just call me Kieran. Pleased to meet you. But, remind me again, what were we meeting here for?”
Lauren stared at him. It was possible she had made a mistake. The only thing she knew about her date was that he’d be wearing a blue coat. The rest was a mystery, courtesy of Uncle Tristan’s insistence. A surprise, he had said, would be exciting. Lauren was now very strongly disagreeing. “Our…blind date?”
“Oh!” he exclaimed, overdramatic, settling back into his chair, smiling a cheshire grin. “Of course.” That was a lie, ringing red in her ears, stark against the blue and black wave. He went on, melodramatic, “How could I forget?”
“You’re not my blind date,” she said, frowning.
“Sorry no,” he laughed, and with it came a burst of bright blue, drenching the rest of his words. “Though I wouldn’t mind going on a date with you, Miss Sinclair. Tell me, who are you actually looking for?”
“He was supposed to be wearing a blue coat—”
“Blue coat!?” he cried, looking down at himself, grabbing his lapels.
“What?”
“This is more of a navy, if anything! I wouldn’t be caught dead in something as tacky as a blue coat.”
Lauren resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“If you’re looking for blue, what about him?” Kieran said, pointing over her shoulder.
She turned and saw a table that she had missed, hidden in the corner by the door. A blonde man in a sky-blue suit sat there, chatting amiably with the waitress. A little too amiably, loud enough that she could hear him from across the room.
“I really respect what you do,” he lied, red sound spilling from his mouth, “working so hard. Why I’m much the same! My company wouldn’t be the same without my contributions. And to stay so beautiful while you’re at it…”
Almost all of it was absolutely saturated with red, except that last bit. Lauren grimaced but said, “I think that might be him.” Unfortunately, she added in her head.
That was when the blonde man leaned forward and caught the waitress’s hand in his own, his lips brushing against her knuckles.
From behind her, Kieran gasped. Lauren could feel her soul leaving her body.
She turned back around. Kieran’s eyebrows were raised, his mouth pressed into a thin line that was threatening to turn into a laugh. Great. She had shared this embarrassment with a stranger for no reason.
“I am so sorry about this, I’ll let you finish your cup of coffee in peace,” Lauren said, standing up.
“Wait,” Kieran said. “I don’t mean to overstep my bounds, but…”
Lauren paused. He looked away, the barest downward turn at the corner of his mouth, but that quickly vanished into a lazy smile, his eyes glittering as he met her gaze again. “Never mind. I hope you have better luck on future dates,” he said, red dripping into his speech, until that was all she could hear from him.
“Uh, thanks—”
A loud clatter.
Laruen whirled around in time to see the blonde man hopping to his feet, a brown stain spreading over the crotch of his pants, the waitress furiously apologizing, gathering the fallen teacup. The man’s face was turning pink. He lunged and grabbed the waitress’s wrist, yanking her towards him. That’s all Lauren had to see before she was rushing forward, breaking the man’s grip on the waitress, bodily stepping in between the pair.
“Sir, there’s no need to get handsy.”
“That woman,” the man seethed, glaring at the waitress, who was ducking behind Lauren, “did that on purpose!”
Lauren forced a smile. Defuse the situation. “I’m sure it was an accident sir. Please, there’s no need to attack the poor girl.”
“Who are you to step in!? Do you work here?” he yelled.
“I’m a police officer,” she said, leaning in, dropping her voice so that only he could hear it. “Off duty, of course. But I’m sure you’re aware that assault is a punishable offense.”
He quelled for a moment, almost looking worried, but then something came over him and he straightened. “I certainly do! Why that woman was the one who assaulted me with hot coffee. I could be burned!”
Red, but she’s not surprised. “Sir, that coffee was cold, as I’m sure you know.”
He paled, his brows knitting. Lauren took this opportunity shoo the waitress away, mouthing, go get the owner, before turning back to face the man. He made a sound of outrage, trying to get past Lauren, but she blocked his way. He threw a gesturing hand, “she can’t just—"
“What were you saying to her, before you kissed her hand?” Lauren interrupted, casually. “That you really admire her work ethic? How you work so hard for your company? Pathetic. You’ve never worked hard a day in your life, and you know it.”
He got paler, if possible, his eyes widening.
“And you know what?” Lauren said, on a roll now. “I’m pretty sure you were supposed to be my blind date today. Blue coat, red skirt,” she said, pointing at him and then herself in turn. Recognition lit in his eyes. Bingo. “But I’m glad I got to see what a bastard you really were before I wasted my time.”
His face was turning bright pink again, and this time he grabbed her wrist. “You—!”
Someone appeared behind her, a shadow of a presence at her shoulder. It was Kieran, face serious, eyes narrowed at the blonde man. “Sir,” he said, almost polite, but to her ears it was a black, cold blot of ice. The blonde man let Lauren go, stepping back. “I think you’ve made enough of a fool of yourself.”
“He’s right. Maybe instead of flirting with poor waitresses, you could invest time into actually helping your company,” Lauren suggested snidely, shaking out her wrist. “Have a lovely evening!”
And she swept outside. Kieran followed her out, and she found that she didn’t mind him stepping in besides her. The street was emptying, the setting sun peeking between the buildings, gold and orange. There were fewer people and fewer cars than before.
“I can’t believe the nerve of that man!” Lauren growled, stomping against the evening chill.
“You handled that well,” Kieran said. “Are you alright?”
“Of course,” she snapped. “I don’t know how or why I keep ending up on dates with creeps.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kieran says, so sincere that it makes something skip in her chest. “I would think that someone as beautiful as you would have better luck.”
Lauren couldn’t help the laugh. They slowly came to a stop at the corner of the street.
“Thanks,” she said, spinning to face him. His hair had fallen loose from his ponytail, framing his face. The sun caught against his jawline, his eyes shining in the sunset. “Do you… want to maybe—”
“Retrospective on the Allendale train station tragedy!” a newspaper boy cried. “Only five cents!”
Lauren looked away from Kieran, suddenly feeling exhausted and dumb and useless. How could she forget, even for a moment?
“Lauren?” Kieran said.
“Sorry, never mind,” she said, turning back to him. The sun had lowered past the building, and now they were standing in shadows, his eyes dark. “It was nice meeting you.”
“You too,” he said. “Good luck with the whole dating thing. Hopefully you’ll find someone better than that idiot.”
She cracked a smile, relieved that this time there was no red dripping from his voice, only undulating black and blue. “Thanks. Goodbye, Kieran.”
“Goodbye Lauren,” Kieran said.
Lauren turned away and began walking, sticking a hand into her pocket, trying to find five cents. She glanced back one last time. He stood there for a moment at the corner of the street, looking tired, before he too turned and sauntered away.