Page 11 - Interior_SPRING SUMMER FALLING_2021

SPRING SUMME R FALLING | 11

the world unbeknownst to the rest of the free world. She’d come across or needed
some information that only I could provide. We’d have to go to France or
somewhere exotic and kick some international butt.

The elevator slows to a stop. The glossy doors slide open to reveal the plain
office building lobby. Light gray walls, non-descript beige tiles, and bland office
furniture. I pass a few errant plants en route to the only saving grace of the whole
floor. The café has saved me from leaving the building plenty of times. The
breakfast tacos keep me from starving when I am running late, and the sandwiches
help me through working lunches. I’ve never really stopped in for coffee or pastries.
I make my own coffee, and pastries are not a staple in my normal diet.

I breath in the scent of fresh coffee with a hint of soup. My stomach growls
out its desire for sustenance.
“Maybe I’ll grab something light,” I whisper to myself.
A quick survey of the café confirms the lack of Sanya’s presence. I check my

phone – it’s not April so this can’t be a prank. I order a chicken wrap and some
fruit. My shoes clack their way to the empty table in the corner for more privacy.
She’d said it’s a quick chat, but I am still unsure of the subject.
I’m halfway finished with my wrap when I see a small bolt of bright colors fly
into the room. Her outfit is giving me an 80s vibe. She is wearing a dress. The top
is a black tank that hugs her slightly rounded torso and flows into a loose, patterned
skirt that is a hodgepodge of teal, hot, pink, and yellow. She’s layered the dress with
a sheer yellow shirt that partially hangs off her left shoulder. Her hair is curly like

the mom and teenager from Black-ish and, in true 80s fashion, she has a headband
the same material of the skirt. I can’t help but wonder why we’ve never met until
today. If all her outfits are as “themed” as this one, she would be hard to miss.
She is still scanning the room, her little body raised on her toes to give her more
leverage to survey the space. Our eyes finally meet, and I wave. She smirks. She
seems to relax and tense at the same time. From what I gather, she is relieved that I
didn’t stand her up but tense about what she has to ask me. I push my plate aside,
too intrigued to continue eating. Instead, I watch her for what feels like hours. She
orders a lemonade and chats with the cashier. My phone buzzes when she finally
sits across from me. Her floral sent wafts in my direction. I turn it off. Cassie is
infamous for calling me back-to-back if I don’t answer the first time.