What if you found out the person sitting next to you in the coffee shop was a cold-blooded murder?
Or someone’s savior?
Can you tell a book by its cover? Of course not. You never know who or what the person is
behind the mask…

Created by Superstition and Maidenroseheart

A cool morning breeze blew through the large gated house. The light air of spring newly born filling the residence with freshness that can only be gained with new starts and rebirth. Outside a maintenance worker paused in his watering of the flowerbeds to watch the sunrise. Also watching the sunrise was the guard at the gate who looked up momentarily from his alert stance. From an open window in the kitchen, a cook and maid paused together in their chatter to treasure the small respite. Then all continued in their tasks. All with renewed vigor that comes from moments such as these.

All but one. The butler was walked swiftly through the large residence with little regard for sunrises, spring breezes, or comradery with others in the house. She had one goal and one alone. Approaching the door to her mistresses bedroom, she rapped lightly on the door and proceeded inside. As she expected, her charge lay in bed with circles under her eyes. The butler didn't have to suppress a mental sigh. She was here to get things done and she would not disappoint her former employer by neglecting the daughter of that same employer she so revered.

Knowing that the female curled under the covers was awake and alert from the moment her own footsteps had approached the bedroom door, the butler turned towards the walk in closet to select an outfit appropriate for the day. "Ma'am, would you be wishing to dress before or after breakfast?" she asked as she stepped out. Seeing a form move silently from sight into the bathroom, she realized that the answer to that question was most certainly afterwards.

In the bathroom, a young woman tiredly started a cold shower. Letting the water alert her senses more, she quickly washed and stepped out. Pausing at the mirror to survey the circles under her eyes, she mentally started calculating which makeup and hair combo would work best to hide any signs of her late night out last night. Fragments of memory involving alcohol, broken glass, and an alley fight filtered through her mind. She stored the thoughts for later examination and walked out of the cool bathroom.

Her bedroom curtains had been opened allowing sunlight to filter lightly across the room. She went to her newly neatly made bed to dress in the outfit laid out there. Her butler was very accomplished and came highly recommended from her mother. Since her mother was a master in her own right, having a highly recommended employee that once served her was a welcome honor. Sitting down in a sturdy chair, the young mistress began to finish polishing her appearance. Long deft fingers easily placed her hair up in a bun with curls falling down the back to the nape of her neck. Brown hair and brown eyes were complimented with purple eye shadow meant to distract and hide all signs of a late night. The tall, slender woman who left the room was one of poise, wealth, and presence to command.

“Smith, Holden & Ike. Thank you for calling. How may I help you?” The familiar speech rolled lazily off Kathryn’s tongue as she picked up phone’s receiver. Only half listening to the caller drone on and on about his story of innocence and how desperately he needed a lawyer, she started writing her tasks for the day on her memo pad. Having heard this story and many others a thousand times over since she had become the firm’s receptionist, she’d learned that rarely were these people innocent. But her job was not to convict, just answer the phones and take care of the office. Another light began flashing indicating an incoming call. “One moment as I transfer you. Hold please.” Not even waiting to see if the man had stopped his ramble, she transferred him to Tim Holden. “Mr. Holden, you have a caller on line 1.” Kathryn sighed as she switched to the new caller and began the routine all over again.

At noon she stepped from the quiet office to the busy downtown streets. It was bustling with white collar workers heading to lunch at what was called Lunch Circle. Here many restaurants, ranging from elegant to fast food, catered to the office workers on their lunch and sometimes dinner hours. Kathryn joined the river of people as she headed to her usual restaurant for her usual lunch of salad, toast, and soup. As she walked and waited to be seated, waiters rushed past her seeming not to see her. Being of an average build, ordinary black hair and blue eyes, she blended into the background so seamlessly you would have thought she was a secret agent. But she was just an ordinary young woman who didn’t want to stand out or make a fuss. It’s not as if she were in a hurry to get anywhere. After a few moments a waitress noticed her and showed her to a booth in the corner. “Sorry but it’s all we have left. Your server will be with you momentarily”

As Kathryn sat waiting for her meal to arrive, she causally looked around the crowded room at some of the patrons. Most were on their phones, IPads or laptops. The only ones not were obviously on a business lunch with clients, giving their dinning partners their full attention. Feeling slightly out of place, Kathryn slipped a book from her satchel and faded away into another world of her imagination.

It was the end of the work day. Late afternoon sunlight filtered across the floor of the Vice Presiden't office of Selflessdor Corportion. The door closed on the heels of the room's owner as she left for the day with steady forsteps down the building's corridors. She was headed to the central elevator that all employees had to use. Other than stairs and fire escapes, the single elevator was the buildings only fast transportation up or down. Miss Stacy Selflessdor was the daughter of the President of the company and followed her mother's footsteps closely.

Miss Stace stepped into the elevator to the bids of goodbye the last of the office workers gave her. As the doors closed, she exhaled and slipped out of her heels. What she did here was little know to many and probably duties that could be passed on to her assistants. Having such loyalty was nothing she earned but passed down from her mother. Stacy never forgot where she came from or that she was what she was because of her family. The men in her family had nothing to do with their success and it was kept that way for a reason.

The elevator doors opened, not on the first floor but at the top floor. Here was part of the reason so few knew the Selflessdor's true activities. Here was why the family name was passed through the female side of the family. Here was the deadly secrets that were the true source of the family's fortunes. This building had a penthouse at the top with several saferooms. Each saferoom was connected to a twin saferoom. Each set had a normal room and a stocked room. The stocked room of each set of safe rooms had everything Stacy needed for her night activities. She walked through her penthouse towards one and opened the door.

Stepping into the saferoom closest to the elevator, she turned to close the door. Her two bodyguards that were in the penthouse studiously not looking her way. Once secure inside, she pulled out her outfit. It was skin tight mottles of gray that allowed her to blend into shadows. With bullet proof padding covering vital organs and arteries, it was not meant for the social scene. Adding the combat boots with flat, rubber bottoms and face mask that left only her eyes exposed, she checked herself over in the mirror. Not bad. The hood that fit over her hair was not vainly ornamented. Simply gray like the rest. She grinned and moved on to equip herself.

Pulling out a master electronic card for doors that didn't take a lockpick tool set and slipping those into a thin belt around her waist was only the beginning. She added more things to her arsenal. There was smoke tablets that when broken gave cover. There was cord ties for ensuring those who weren't targets were tied and out of the way. There was a stunner, chalk pencils, electronic grappling hook, boot knife, a handcuff key taped with nude tape on her neck, filtration mask that that vented gas as well as separated oxygen underwater, red light flashlight, scanner that picked up chemicals and gases, epidemic pen in case of poison exposure, the baton that created a bulletproof shield around her body. Her only real weapons was the silencer revolver strapped to one calf and the sniper rifle on her back. A cape hid those things well but she had no problem leaving it behind when it was time to run.

In her ear was an ear piece for communications with her mother. Her mother retired leaving the assassin job up to her. Yet she was not without contacts and sources of information. Her mother helped from behind the scenes as did her butler when the time called for it. In her left eye was an implant that allowed her some ability to research while on the run. Despite both advantages, they were not used often as they weren't needed. It was her parkour resemblence style of moving about that made her the assassin she was. Move from point A to point B in the straightest and fastest route possible. Slit neck or single bullet did the rest. Then she ran.

Tonight was the beginning of yet another target. Her mother left an encrypted file for her. Stacy opened it and looked at the basic information of her new target. Joe Hendrick, the owner of the socialite's night club downtown called Claw's Den. High paying customers went there. Invitation only and returnee's only. Joe spent most of his time there. She would have to find a way to slip in, most likely from the roof. Figure out where he spent his time and figure out if she could kill him tonight or wait until tomorrow night. Reconnaissance was good, but instant convenient timing was better. The reason he was her target? Stacy looked further down for the biography. He was clean of guns, trafficking, drugs, and prostitution. There was a nice public record of him. Who had he made mad enough to get a hit on himself? She would learn later. Her mother screened applications carefully. Now was the time to fly.

Leaving the safe room and having the penthouse go dark for the night, Stacy went outside and looked down. She could take the fire escape down a small ways and then use the grappling hook to get to the next building. From there carefully measured leaps and running would get her downtown. Good thing she kept herself in shape. Swinging a leg over the ledge and dropping to the first platform of the fire escape, she made her way down.

Kathryn stepped from the elevator amidst the mass of employees and employers racing out of the building, hoping to escape their cubicles or offices for a few short hours. Stepping through the revolving door she stepped to the curb with some others frantically waving taxi’s down. She looked down the sidewalk at the bus stop a few yards away, deciding how which transportation she should take. A vague smile touched her lips as a wild thought swept through her mind. There were other ways to get home that weren’t so….droll.

Cars and buses sped by, pedestrians rushed all around, people always in a hurry to get from one point to the next. Instead of crickets and frogs, horns and curses serenaded the city night. A distorted moon glowed a dim light, hardly illuminating the downtown streets and sidewalks, most of the light coming from the street and building lights. Kathryn turned down one of the many alleyways that littered the city, this one as dirty and smelly as any other with trashcans all along the walls. She kept a sharp eye out but that didn’t keep her heart from hammering in her chest. This was not a safe place to be but still she trudged on through, jumping a few feet when a cat ran out in front of her. After a few minutes she turned the corner and found a high wooden fence with more overflowing trashcans along its base. “Great,” she muttered. This would delay her but not badly.

Suddenly sounds came from behind her. Something was moving towards her from the way she had come. Tall, human-like shadows appeared around the corner, the sounds becoming more pronounced as laughs and growls. Chains, blades, and bats protruded from their massive arms. Kathryn backed up against the fence, her eyes searching the alley for weapons. Nothing was visible except the trashcans and their disgusting contents. One of them growled, his tone sending chills up her spine – “Got no where to run…”

The cool evening breeze pushed at her as Stacy inched her way across the roof top towards the skylight. Not that it did much good for the place for lighting as Claw's Den was only used after sundown. That was probably to her benefit. Reaching the edge, she looked through the glass down below, searching each of the faces systematically. Working her way along the VIP booths, she soon found Joe. He was in a center booth where he could view the action on the dance floor below.

There was nothing between her and him save the glass windows. None of the lighting or beams were in the way. Still, she didn't want to give away her location by mere shattering of glass. Pulling out her boot knife, Stacy began to edge it under the glass edge. Brown eyes intense as she concentrated, Stacy managed to break the seal around the window enough to lift the glass up several inches. It wasn't much and wouldn't allow entrance, but it was all she needed.

Propping the glass open with her baton, she reached back and unstrapped the sniper rifle. Bringing it around and carefully sliding it in under the glass window, Stacy hesitated only a moment as she took aim. Then exhaling, she pulled the trigger. Not waiting to see the reactions to the slumping figure of Joe, Stacy slipped the rifle out and strapped it to her back. Leaning away and out of sight, she pulled the baton out and turned. Not even fulling standing, and she was already in a sprint towards the edge of the building. Leaping, she sailed over the alley and landed on the building's roof on the other side. Slapping the ground with her hands to help absorb the impact, she kept running.

Screams erupted around the room as Joe fell, his bodyguards catching him before he hit the floor. No one knew from where the shot came but no one wanted to be the next victim. People ran for cover under tables and behind pillars, the dancers tripping over each other as they too tried to hide. Stills, a huge African-American muscle man and Joe's head of security pulled Joe out of the booth into a secure bunker underneath the dance floor. He didn't even stop to give his men orders for they had prepared for this and already knew what to do.

Just as Stills closed the second barricade door Joe sat up and groaned, holding his chest. "You okay?" Stills asked in his usual monotone voice. Joe awkwardly ripped open his shirt and felt the experimental metallic vest that hugged his skin. The bullet was right over his heart. "Yeah, just a bit shaken." He took a deep breath. "So, you heard right. They are pissed off." Joe laughed shakily while Stills stood like a monument to boredom. "Orders, sir?" A dark smile passed over his handsome features as he answered in his smooth British voice. "We get even...."

----------------

Breath, Kathryn! She relaxed as she waited for the thugs to get closer. There were five of them, some muscular while others were more lean but all had a weapon. The one who had spoken was up front carrying a machete with a big chunk out of the top near the tip. He was only a few yards away and closing quickly, but the others were hanging back a bit. Damn. She wanted them closer together but it could still work out. A slight smile touched her lips as she concentrated.

"Scared?" the leader taunted, now only a few feet away. "No reason for that. We just gonna have us a little fu-" Out of nowhere a metal trashcan lid flew like a Frisbee, striking him in the jugular. His eyes bulged out of his skull as he gasped for the air he could no longer intake, finally rolling backward as he collapsed to the ground. The rest of the gang stepped back in shock, looking between Kathryn and their leader.

One of them started for her again, his voice dripping venom. "You little b-" Another lid came flying but he was ready for it this time and raised his arm to block. He howled as it slammed into his wrist, making a bone crack. The others woke from their stupors and rushed at the intended victim. A long scream filled the air as trash and anything not tied down started to fly dangerously through the air. One by one they went down as something connected with their thick skulls.

As everything fell harmlessly back to the ground, only two people remained alive in the alley. The last thug looked up from his huddle on the ground, shaking uncontrollably, and watched as the unassuming young woman vaulted over the high wooden fence.

It was some time before Stacy slowed her sprint. She was blocks from the crime scene and safe from curious eyes. Pausing, she heard sirens in the distance. They were too late but she didn't mind. Let them try to comb this out. Her target was dead. That was all that mattered. She reached up and tapped on the ear piece connecting her to her mother. "Checking in. Dead is done. Anything important?"

A silence filled a few moments and then her mother's voice came into her ear, "We have a problem. I'm hacking into police security and not only did an ambulance not come but there were no fatalities. No victims." Stacy's breathe caught in her throat as her mother's news hit home. "In addition to that, there is a survivor." Stacy slowly leaned back into the shadows. A missed hit. Bad not only for business but for the assassin. "Listen to me. They are not leaking this information to the media. So you have to be careful how you proceed. They were expecting you." Working through a way to another safehouse away from her residence or work, Stacy kept to the shadows. It looked like life was going to be complicated for a little while.

-------

A man stood in the shadows. His crew had been almost completely wiped out by a mere girl. She was nothing special and what she would have given his men was not anything extra ordinary. That she got away unscathed was a shock from what he had guessed would be a simple reward for his men. Now he walked out of the shadows and slowly towards his men. Looking them over, he decided that he wanted to avoid their stories from leaking. Their fear would only make the rest of his group superstitious.

Pulling out a phone as he made eye contact with the shaking man looking up at him in frenzied terror, he dialed a number. "We have a situation. My men failed in a simple task. They are a liability. Permission to erase them." He listened for a moment for a confirmation. The rest back at the main gang base would know that he, not a girl, killed these men. Putting his phone away and pulling out a gun, he grinned apologetically at the form at his feet. "This is for the best."

"No! Please! No!" BANG. BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG. The five men lay dead, surrounded by trash and debris from the whirlwind that had been their downfall. A man slid back into the shadows. He had witnessed an event. He had valuable information. Time to bring down someone that would make their gang famous. If she could be harnessed. Great. If not, no loss as the story would alone be good reputation.

Trying her best to suppress another yawn, Kathryn did her best to concentrate on the morning newspaper. The blurry images and vivid emotions from the dreams she'd had last night were fighting for dominance in her mind. Taking a deep breath and burying them back where they belonged, she opened the front page. A small bold headline at the bottom of the page demanded her attention no matter how much she wished to ignore it: "FIVE MEN FOUND DEAD IN STREET ALLEY." Wait a minute... she thought, her brow furrowing. Only four thugs went down last night. She read the rest of the article and it coincided with the events of last night. The place and how they died was the same except, "....only one was shot four times in the chest...." Panic started to rise in her chest. Could someone else have been there? Come on, Kathryn. Another gang could have come along and shot him. Doesn't mean someone's after you! She was getting way too paranoid these days. Too many crime mystery novels...

She finished her tea and finished getting ready for work. This was going to be a long day of looking over her shoulder and taking the main roads. No more detours for her....

------------------

Alejandro was furious. Yesterday had been a disaster. In a rage, he hurled his coffee mug at the far wall, smashing it to a hundred pieces and leaving a coffee stain on the paint. How could they fail?! All bets had been hanging on the public death of the revolting "club owner," a warning to his competition that they'd best learn their places. Now, his only hope was no one was smart enough to point the finger at him for the failed assassination. With any luck, Joe would think it was one of the smaller groups trying to rise higher on the ladder by getting rid of one of the top dogs. But how had he survived? The agency he'd hired had been successful in all other assignments.

Understanding dawned, panic replacing the fury. Joe had known. That was the only explanation! Now the brat would want to retaliate and Alejandro had already seen what Joe was capable of... No need to take chances. He moved to his intercom. "Miguel, my car." He would head to the safe house. The mansion was no longer safe. The door opened and one of his maids came inside. " Hoy no hay limpieza [No cleaning today]," he told her absent mindedly as he took one last look around his den, gazing at the mementos of his power he had collected over the years. Satisfied that everything was as it should be, he turned toward the door.

Alejandro froze as he took in the image of the sweet, unassuming maid who had entered his den. There she stood before him with one of his prized bows, armed and pointed straight at him. Sunlight gleamed off of the black surface, it's pulleys straining to be released. Her stance was confident, her expression a bit smug. When she spoke, her Hispanic accent vanished, revealing her rough British brogue. "This is from Joe." Before he could shout for help or press the emergency button under his desk, she released the lethal arrow. Slicing through the air, it pierced his heart and threw him back into his huge leather chair, sending it sailing back. Alejandro was dead before it slammed into the wall, his shocked eyes open but unseeing. Her deed done, she placed the bow back on the wall where it had been, her gloved hands sure to leave no prints, and walked calmly out of the room.

Miss Stacy quietly woke up in the safe house. The sunshine falling across her eyes where she lay in the small bedroom. Turning over and looking towards the bathroom, she could see her butler preparing her a bath. It didn't matter which safe house, or in this case apartment, that she went to. Her butler was always near by to make sure she was up and ready for her day job. Feeling her sore muscles from the running she had done last night, Miss Stacy slowly got up and stripped out of the night shirt she had struggled into the night before. Dropping it into the hamper, she slowly padded her way into the bathroom.

The butler turned and surveyed her for signs of injury or bruising. Seeing none, she bowed and left. Relishing the hot water for a precious few minutes, Miss Stacy washed and climbed out. Dressing as she had the day before, putting on the clothes laying on her bed, she headed for the kitchen. Guided by the aroma of coffee with irish creamer, she sat down at the table and looked up at the TV playing on the wall. Her mother's butler was cleaning up around the kitchen, nearby in case she was needed.

There was an attack in an alley way involving five dead men. There was a man also mentioned whose name she recognized in connection to the nightclub she had been at the night before. True to her mother's word, no mention of her attempted assassination was mentioned. Once breakfast was finished, Stacy picked up the ear piece laying on the coffee table in the livingroom and listened. Her mother came on. "Alright, I spent last night going through the different sources of information I could find. Claw's Den is no longer an option. We don't have to take target out if we don't want to as we won't get paid anymore. The person we held a contract with died last night. However, it would be good for your track record to not have any incomplete hits."

Stacy understood that and listened as her mother suggested another route to the man. Then she quietly packed the ear piece away and stood up. The butler stood by the front door and ushered her out to the car. She followed quietly, stepping into the backseat and letting her butler close the door. Another day at work and then the real stuff could begin.

“Smith, Holden & Ike. Thank you for calling. How may I help you…. One moment as I transfer you. Hold please.”
“Smith, Holden & Ike. Thank you for calling. How may I help you…. One moment as I transfer you, hold please.”
Finger posed over the switchboard, Kathryn started when she realized that no lights were blinking. There were no waiting calls. Wow, she thought with a glimmer of hope, maybe I can actually get some work done. She stretched her arms high and got to work on the computer. Only being interrupted a few times, she was able to type up the report that was due tomorrow and got over half way thru the revamp of the file system that she was supposed to start yesterday.

“Hey Kathryn, aren’t you gonna go to lunch?” Kathryn jumped in her seat, suppressing a squeak. It was only Mr. Smith’s aide, Marla. “Oh, is it lunchtime already?” she answered with a shy smile. Marla laughed lightly, “You work too hard, girl!” She tidied up the desk area as Marla strolled out the office door. Putting “Closed until 1pm” sign on the door, Kathryn picked up her satchel and walked quickly out of the office. She hated being late…

When she got to her favorite restaurant in Lunch Circle, it was starting to fill up. The distracted waitress rushed Kathryn to her usual booth and left without a word. Kathryn sighed. There must be an event happening to bring a large crowd. She hated it when that happened because it got so noisy she could hardly think. Well, she was already here and eventually the waitresses would remember she was here and ask her for her order.

As the minutes pasted, the seats filled up quickly. Kathryn was trying to lose herself in her book but she couldn’t help but overhear some waitresses behind her chatting nervously. “But there aren’t any more seats!” “We can’t turn her away! Do you know who she is!?” “Maybe we can figure out who will be leaving soon and just ask if she can wait a few moments…” “Wait? Are you kidding? Everyone just got here!”

The whispers were starting to reach a new pitch of panic when Kathryn turned around and cleared her throat. The waitresses didn’t hear her as they frantically tried to figure out what to do. “Hey!” Heads near her turned at her almost-shout and the waitresses were shocked into silence. They probably forgot I was here. “Um, if someone needs a seat, I could share this booth. I don’t need all of this space, if they don’t mind the company.” Kathryn couldn’t believe she was offering to share her space with a perfect stranger! “We’ll ask…” The woman seemed to quiver in the heels at the thought of asking this person if she’s willing to share. Whoever they are must be pretty important to make everyone this nervous.

The place was crowded. She was the only one from her company here. The other workers, whether they were CEOs or not, avoided this restaurant for the very reason that this was the one place she dined out at on a regular basis. No sense having to stay professional when you are on your lunch break. Stacy was also the only one at her company to set her own lunch breaks. Helped that her family owned it.

Now she stood at the front entryway, waiting. A first for her. But it was rather obvious that several other companies had decided to have their administrative staff take a group lunch together. So it appeared the tables were full and the staff frantic. Resisting her urge to check her watch for yet a third time within the same minute, Stacy struggled to not appear impatient. Large crowds really wasn't her thing.

A waitress hesitantly left a group of waitresses that were talking by the front desk. As soon as she picked Stacy out, she lifted her chin and strode confidently towards her. "Ma'am, we have run out of booths and tables. The private rooms are filled as well. However, there is a booth with a single lady inside. She has offered to share the space. Does that suit you? Both of your meals is on us, of course." Despite her apparent bravery, Stacy noted that her hands were slightly shaky and her brow was starting to bead with sweat.

Giving a regal nod, Stacy simply said, "That suits me." Instant relief crossed the waitress' eyes and she turned to lead her on in. Stacy noted the discreet thumbs up she sent the others still hovering by the front desk and noted their reactions as well. She would have to leave a large tip to compensate for the free meals as well as encourage the waitresses to continue their faithful attempts at pleasing their customers. If she hadn't been born in a nice family, it very well could be her wearing those shoes. Following her guide through the crowded room, Stacy also noted that despite the scenic route, it was also the least cluttered one. Very thoughtful of the waitress considering Stacy was wearing heels.

As they reached a back corner near the kitchens but out of the way of most of the traffic, Stacy noted with approval the booth. Not one she usually took, as she tended to use one of the smaller rooms instead. However it didn't disappoint. The decorative wall blocked the view of the booth by a majority of the room. There was simply a walkway along the back wall with a line of booths along it. It created a sound barrier that removed the noise of the main room to a mute sound that was more easy on the ears. "Here we are ma'am." The waitress paused on the far side and beside the other occupant.

Looking with a brief glance at the occupant, Stacy moved to take a seat. Once seated, she offered a nod and opened introductions. A good way to avoid handshaking. "My name is Stacy. Thank you for your kindness."

The waitress immediately placed down a menu. "I'll be your server today. My name is Alicia. I'll give you a few minutes to look over your menus and then will be right back. Is there anything you want to start with or drink?" A glance at Stacy, and she noted on her pad while quietly saying, "the usual." Then she turned to see if the other girl had anything to say.

“Uh my usual, too, please.” Kathryn could feel her face flush as her voice rose in pitch. She always did that when nervous! A lump formed in her throat as the name and face registered. This was the VP of Selflessdor Corportion, the people who owned the building where she worked! This person was definitely important! The waitress walked away and left the two women sitting alone at the booth. Oh, I forgot to tell her my name! “I’m Kathryn. Thank you for sharing the table with me.” She lowered her eyes, unsure of what to say next. What do you chat about with the VP of very important company?

The waitress nodded and made a notation, then swiftly picked up the unused menus. Walking quickly away, probably to find air to breath, the waitress was soon gone. Stacy shifted her glance from disappearing waitress to the occupant. The sudden knowing in the girl's eyes as well as her posture told Stacy more than Kathryn could know. Attempting a little formal chit chat, Stacy commented, "I'm assuming you work for Selflessdor Corportation. Your kindness will be rewarded, I assure you." That she was known to the waitresses here and could order the normal suggested that anything Stacy wanted to know about Kathryn, including name and address, could be discovered here. It wouldn't be hard to have a bonus included with the girl's next paycheck.

"No! I mean yes! I mean, I work in a building owned by the corporation but I don't want a reward. Anyone would have done the same thing." Kathryn could feel her face turn even more shades of red. Heads started to turn toward their table as news spread around the area of her dinning partner. So much for blending in...

Taking in the stir out of the corner of her eye, Stacy watched Kathryn react to it. Shy and modest. Not bad qualities. The girl would be getting that bonus. Just as the waitress would be getting a nice tip. Deciding not to argue about it, Stacy attempted to ease the situation. Normal looking conversation tended to sway curiosity after a few minutes. "If you insist. I want you to know that I do appreciate it. Not everyone is willing. I like where you chose to sit." Compliments always helped diffuse tension, unless a person was really set on hating themselves or were so arrogant that they took it wrong. "The noise from the main room is muted and the amount of customers in view is limited. You have good taste. Do you eat here often?"

“Every day. I like this booth because it’s always empty and I can read without bothering anyone.” She held up the book she had been reading for this last week, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking. “This is interesting. Lately I've been reading a lot of fiction so I decided to switch it up a bit.”

Seeing and recognizing the book, Stacy smiled a more genuine smile. "A good book. You have chosen well. I'll let you continue to read it." Opening her own book back up, she found where she left off and continued to read. And so time passed companionably until their food arrived. Her grilled chicken salad with flavored water looked divine. Normally a dish she ate in the evenings, Stacy had found it filling enough to last all afternoon so ordered it when she came here. "Enjoy your meal," she told Kathryn politely as she picked up her chopsticks.

The receptionist ate in silence with her lunch partner. The stares had gone down significantly, so she didn't have the strong compulsion to duck under the table anymore. Not that Kathryn was a shy person; she just wasn't used to the attention. The empty silence stretched between them but it wasn't awkward. She silently thanked the woman for her graciousness. Others would have insisted on filling the short lunch time with useless chatter. Stacy seemed content for the companionship and needed nothing else.

As Kathryn finished her soup, she closed her book and put it back in her satchel. Hesitating for a second, she looked directly at Stacy and asked the question on her mind before her courage disappeared. "Would you like to meet here tomorrow? I eat here everyday for lunch. Perhaps we could both bring books..."

Looking surprised and feeling a pleased blush color her cheeks, Stacy gently closed her own book as well. It was nice to have similar company for a short time. A break from running the different companies her family owned as well as a break from her night life. "I would like that, as well," she said with as much professionalism as she could manage. But the truth was, Stacy felt an edge of loneliness shave away and her gratitude was behind each word spoken.

So it was with reluctance that she stood to leave. Nodding to Kathryn, she confirmed, "This time tomorrow then." Then turning and walking away, she pulled herself together and resumed the pose that so marked her at work. It was time to return to life outside of this haven. Pausing by the front desk where waitresses suddenly looked nervous, Stacy pulled an envelope outside of her purse and set it on the table. She kept these for times like these. It was a check to the restaurant with a donation. She left with a comment on her wonderful waitress and stepped outside.

Her butler stood with the car door open and ready. Stacy felt grateful to her butler in that moment. A bit flustered, she didn't have her mind completely around her. So having routine to fall into saved her from looking like she was preoccupied. The butler noticed. Closing the door after Stacy, she walked around to the front and slid in next to the driver. Keeping a close eye on her charge, the butler wondered at both the sense of happiness and uncertainty that she could feel coming from Stacy.