Let’s shower and eat.

Scarlet gave you the cold shoulder after you got off the bed to shower. She joined you, but it was for the sole purpose of having it done quickly. However, despite the lack of interaction and intimacy, you still washed her back, and she to yours.

The bartender was still there when you left your room and got to the dining room. She smiled when you arrived, but her lips straightened when she saw you and Scarlet. She unwrinkled her shirt and tilted her head to one side as she greeted you with a fake but white smile. Her green hair went to one side, following the tilt of her head. "Heading out?" You nod at her.

"I'll save you the time and tell you that Beaver's Creak closed about an hour ago," Marcelina tells you. "But, I was able to work with some of the staff and get some food going for you two if you'd like to eat here."

Scarlet grimaces. "Is it moldy?"

"Of course not," Marcelina scolds. "But, it's still expensive."

You suspected Scarlet to drag her feet a little more, but she only nods in response to the news. "If we have no where else to go, then who are to complain about who's taking us in? Besides, Warren, I'm still a little tired after all of that," Scarlet whispers that last part in a low voice, but you're pretty sure Marcelina heard most of it anyway...She clears her throat and inhales deeply.

“Good evening, handsome sir and most graceful madam!” The girl put on a **** posh accent as she grabbed two menus from behind the counter, but when she spoke next, she was again monotone. “Are we eating on the counter or at a table?”

Before you could speak, Scarlet chipped in. “Right here is fine, and we’ll take two Gold Rush Cocktail with Old Forester bourbon,” she tapped on the counter with her index knuckle and sat on the stool. You joined here. She bristled with a chill and tapped your foot with hers. “That was fun,” she said, undoubtedly talking about the sex you had less than an hour ago.

“No more room for dessert?” You asked with a loose smile.

She chuckled, losing the ice in both mood and voice again. “You already came twice, and you’re asking for a third?”

You adjusted, feeling a little guilty for leading her on. It wasn’t your full intention to play with Scarlet, especially knowing how she felt about you. You grabbed one of the menus, and she did the same. Ironically, there were a lot of dessert items, ranging from chocolate cakes to several cream pies. In the corner of your vision, you see Scarlet licking the back row of her teeth, and she absently reads the menu. “Well, I know what I’m doing?” She pushes the menu away and looks at you.

You glance down, just now, checking the actual savory meals. Most of the items are checked off due to the ingredients being unavailable. “What are you getting?”

“The potato soup,” she sighs. “In the bread bowl. I'd rather have chicken, steak, or something else with meat.”

Her eyes dart up to meet Marcelina with your drinks. “Make a decision?”

“After some hard thinking, I’ve decided to get the potato soup with your freshest bread,” Scarlet pushes the menu back. Marcelina scoops up the menu and then looks at you.

“Uh, the cracked pepper soup will do. With breadsticks, I guess.”

Marcelina nods. “Not a bread bowl?”

“Just the sticks,” you reply.

“Fine,” she sighs. “I’ll be back with water. Don’t get drunk now.”

Scarlet absently looks around with her eyes like she’s looking for something. A chill blows down somewhere, and it cascades across the room. She taps her fingers on the counter, worrying the atmosphere for attention. And then, unexpectedly, you both speak at the same time. She blinks, smiles, and then chuckles as she gestures to you. “Go ahead.”

“What’s your real name?”

For a second, you thought you had crossed the invisible social line. But Scarlet only took a moment to consider her answer. “No,” she finally decides. “That’s for me still.”

You don’t press your luck. “You wanted to ask me something?”

She nods slowly. “You want to continue working together after our contracts are completed with Amara.”

“Honestly,” you think about telling her the whole truth but then go against it. “I think I’ll go my own separate ways after the thaw.”

Scarlet sniffs, tapping the counter softly with her index fingers. “What about Flora?”

“Why?” You ask, but Scarlet doesn’t say anything, prompting awkward silence to materialize in the space between you. You wouldn’t cave and tell your ideas and relationship with their pet project.

“You two fucking, right?”

You chuckle, playing it off as if it’s nothing. “Totally.”

“I’m serious,” she chuckles, too. “She’s a good girl. Widowed, you know? Ex-husband sounds a dick. Nothin’ compared to my ol’man.”

You see a chance to change the subject. “You’ve mentioned your dad before. Tell me about him.”

“No,” she says, her voice like a matchhead striking. “My family is off-limits. I shouldn’t have told you any of that. I was stupid.”

“Noted,” you say. “Then how about your singing and playing?”

“Ah,” she looks at her hands. “Nothing you don’t already know. We were talking about you and Flora, though. Remember?”

“There’s nothing you don’t already know there either,” you try to deflect, but she presses you.

“You know that’s not true,” she says with a light voice, but it still cuts in somewhat aggressively. “There’s ample I don’t know about you and your wannabe sugar.”

“Tick or tack,” you tell her. “Tell me something about you that I don’t know for exchange.”

“Oh,” she giggled slightly, amused by your defense. “You’re looking to trade your shit for my gold, huh?”

“Depends how valuable you consider my shit.”

Scarlet’s eyes twinkle when they meet yours. She’s very amused with you. Your sparring caught her attention. She wants to know about you and Flora but wonders if it's worth the needless friction. Deciding that it isn’t, she shrugs. “Not very valuable, but maybe I’ll fertilize something further. Who knows?”

“Sure,” you flick your gaze to Marcelina, who appears from behind. She has your drinks in hand and slides them to you. “You make the drinks in the back?”

Marcelina blushes, somewhat like you’ve hit a nerve. “Yes,” she snaps at you. “Why is that a problem?”

“Crazy,” Scarlet whispers under her breath as she takes the drink. She recoils at the taste, however, and groans in disgust. “I said we wanted Old Forester bourbon, not straight {****}!”

Marcelina’s face burns brighter. “That’s exactly what I made!”

“Then you need a new job— this is hardly mixed!” Scarlet retorts loudly. “Who taught you how to mix? A dead guy?”

Marcelina’s face turns so red you think she’s about to catch fire. “I-I’m sorry,” she reluctantly whispers, averting her gaze elsewhere. “Forget the drinks; the soup is right around the corner.”

“Did you make that, too?” Scarlet quips.

“No,” Marcelina bites. ”However, I’m a better cook than a mixer, so I doubt you’d complain even if I did.”

You try the drink that’s provided and find it quite strong, indeed. However, you don’t shy away from it and even drink Scarlet; she promptly ordered water, which she also complained about.

She looks around the room, doubling, checking who else is around. And by the time food arrives, she’s already unraveling the details of the contract you’re here for. Scarlet begins modestly, admitting she doesn’t have the complete information. It’s just an owed favor of a client of Amara’s. You’ll be clearing a small pre-war building, as desired by the client. She seems unsure for a moment, and she uses her inability to speak to eat. She exhales. “I’ve got a weird feeling, though.”

“Why would that be?”

She relents. “Gut feeling.”

“Well,” you begin before silence can build. “We can’t do anything now, so let’s ignore it until it's in our face.”

Scarlet snorts. “Sure. It’s not like we can manage to do anything else, so…” She trails off, drinking her water just to make a face.

Stale air collects in the shared space between you as you eat. Scarlet finishes her bread sticks and pokes at her soup with her spoon. Her blue eyes drift to the drinks lined up behind the bar as she thinks. You’re about to finish your food when you perk slightly. “What are you scared of when working?”

The corners of her mouth twitch slightly. She has an answer, but she doesn’t answer. It seems to bother her more than you intended for some unknown reason. However, after a few seconds pass, she looks at you. “Bumping into things that don’t belong in the contract. I think that is the scariest thing that could happen. You know?”

You understand her concern, and a few ideas pop up in your head. “You don’t suppose…-”

“Nah,” she says, drinking again from the glass. “I wouldn’t think so.”