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Eve is getting testy, and this is never ever good. It is especially not good when it is date night, and someone is not here.
She taps her long nails against the nice restaurant table, booked for weeks now, and fumes. The waitress is beginning to look sympathetic, and she'd glower but she's been a waitress and it was shit. Eve has no such reservations about the nosy bint who keeps sighing sadly two tables over.
Bitch.
Eve is probably being unreasonable, and is aware of this in a detached, distant way, but he hasn't even called. That hurts.
A little longer, that's all.
This had been a set date. She had been looking forward to this. She affixes her gaze on the table top and fights the stinging behind her eyes. There is a clunk, ahead and to the right of her, the swishing of material, wood on floorboards and then a voice. Her head snaps up.
“Sorry I'm late. Held up at work, traffic was awful, not a bit of signal,” M says loudly with a smile as he sits. Eve can see, out of the corner of her eye, the waitress beaming and the nosy bint looking slightly disappointed at the removal of her fun. Her gaze is mainly on the man before her. He winks, grinning. “Go with it. Have you ordered yet?”
“No, si-...Simon,” she manages, acting away her shock as standard.
“Hmm. I think duck, you?” Gareth says after a brief perusal of the menu.
“I'm partial to salmon.”
“You really should have let me pick up the bill,” Eve says when they leave, hand in hand. “I ruined your evening.”
“Not at all. I had a splendid time,” Gareth smiles down at her. “Besides, we can always just bill the arse who stood you up.”
“Never have thought you to be so petty.”
“True, it is a little. Perhaps we should just tell James what happened.”
Eve rolls her eyes. "Homicide lawyers are so expensive these days.”
“So are large dinners.”
She looks up at him. “Really? Condoning murder now?”
“You're a charming lady, Miss Moneypenny. Say the word and they'll never find his corpse.”
“It's unethical to order someone to murder, even for my sake.”
“Oh, who said I was going to let anyone else do it?” Gareth says smoothly. “For you, Eve, I'd kill them all,” he says, just as they pass the burly drunkard on the corner who’s been bothering Eve for weeks. It cannot be coincidence. His eyes widen and he beats a hasty retreat. “I love making people do that.” He laughs.
“You charmer.” He lets go of her hand at her door - she'd forgotten about that - and she smiles. “Thanks for that.”
“Anytime.” Gareth gives a half bow. “For dinner or murder. I'll see you on Monday, world criminals willing.”
Eve laughs, entering and climbing the stairs to her flat. As she passes the first floor window, a voice floats up on the wind.
“Dump the bastard!” The figure in the street, fast vanishing in fog, waves and laughs. She shakes her head and leaves him there, shrouded in mist but grinning.
Later, a text appears on her phone.
When I said dump I meant figuratively, though Tanner recommends “in a river”. Your call.