Curls tousled by the same breeze that set wildflowers swaying, Amaya tipped her face toward the sun to enjoy its warmth, bare toes wiggled deeper in the lush grass. The remains of a picnic lunch were tucked under the edge of the quilt she'd spread out upon arrival early that morning, and she'd spent hours simply basking. Hours and hours.
Couples and families shared the slope Amaya had chosen for her picnic, and whilst she wasn't the only person there alone, she found herself wishing that she'd picked another spot. One less exposed. One farther away from the sunbathers napping together, the children playing together, the couples making out or... oh, yes, taking it a bit past trading kisses, alright then. More than kisses.
You go, girls.
Cheeks flushed, Amaya turned her attention back to the lawn and its playground. A pet adoption fair had spilled from its booth in the corner near the playground to encompass the nearby area, as the volunteers set the animals free to play with the children in a feat of emotional blackmail she couldn't help but admire. Children ran and played, and the occasional confusing shriek that could have easily been joy or pain drew the attention of every parent, and when the screaming child was identified, they'd either return to drowsing or leap up to kiss boo-boos as required by circumstance.
It was beautiful, idyllic. The kind of day anyone would give their left arm to enjoy rather than go to work. In theory, Amaya understood, but to here... sheltered in the sanctuary of her office... huddled over the computer, fascinated by the twist and turns, the challenges of the latest project... coffee cold at her elbow...Mr. Smith...Thomas standing in front of the windows, turning to smile that smile...the one she could pretend...
"Oh, balls," Amaya exhaled, flopping back onto the blanket to stare into the sun. Her apartment was spotless, closets cleaned, donations dropped at Good Will, recycling taken to the center. In less than forty-eight hours, Amaya had completed everything on her to-do list and there was nothing left. Nothing in her date book but days upon days of. Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
As if called by her thoughts, a bank of clouds drifted to hide the sun, and the air cooled. Taking it as a sign, Amaya gathered up her things, and tossed her trash into a nearby receptacle, bundling the quilt into an ungainly pile. Perhaps she'd walk by the adoption fair on her way out and see if was possible to adopt kittens in bulk, cut straight through the middle-aged life crisis and get to the cat-lady phase.
A soft buzz brought her stumbling to a halt to try to dig out her phone, the trailing edge of the quilt tangled under her feet as she glanced at the screen. Blocked number. Thumb hovering, Amaya glanced around the park, phone vibrating in her hand. She gazed at the laughing children, the barking pups, the lounging couples. She was the only one rushing to leave, and she had absolutely no place to be.
Swiping left, Amaya lifted the phone to her ear and took a deep breath. "This is Amaya Bertineau." She sat on a nearby bench, the quilt bundled in her lap, as the deep voice on the other end of the line told her what she already knew from the dozens of emails and voice messages received over the past few weeks. "Good afternoon, Mr. Thalbo, yes, I did receive your job proposal. I'm still not quite sure that I'm interested...yes, of course, I." Swallowing hard against the urge to cry, Amaya took a deep breath, fumbling for her keychain to clasp the three plastic rings with which Côme had proposed. Then, imagining he was cheering her on, Amaya took a great leap. "I have some time this week, if that suits you?"
Apparently, it suited Mr. Thalbo very well, if the tone of his voice was anything to go by, and arrangements set, Amaya sat in the fading sunlight, phone in one hand, rings in the other.
Around the dazed woman, others prepared to depart, and eventually, Amaya joined the flow of people walking through the archway that marked the boundary of the park to turn toward home. The urge to reach out, to call Thomas burned, it burned and made her feel weak, and she'd jumped. She'd taken the leap. It was just an interview, a discussion really.
What harm could come of it?
Those assigned to follow her had little trouble remaining under Amaya's radar, a fact for which they were extremely grateful. They'd had a lot of trouble keeping eyes on her while she was working in Las Vegas, and Two was not one to forgive those who lost sight of a target.