February 9, Monday evening
Who: Noah Browning, May Paik What: Meeting the Future When: February 9, 8.30 in the evening Where: Giardino Fresco restaurant Rating: G Status: COMPLETE
Noah resisted glancing at his watch for the tenth time since he'd sat down at the table, but it was a close thing. Instead, he fussed with the cuffs of his shirt, smoothed his tie. He'd taken Mrs. Everett's advice and dressed nicely: a dark grey suit, a pale purple shirt and a coordinating darker purple and blue-figured tie. He'd shaved extra close and made an attempt to put his usually unruly dark hair into some sort of order. First impressions, and all that.
He stuffed the resentment down a little further, stomped on it a little harder. But it still felt sharp-edged and prickly, and he knew that when it finally broke free, it wouldn't be pretty. But that was something he'd deal with when it happened. Tonight, he'd be adult, be pleasant and cooperative when he felt anything but. May--it was as quaint and old-fashioned a name as his own--most likely felt the same way. There was no point in ripping off heads here; they'd come to some sort of agreement in arrangements that would satisfy both the requirements of the state and themselves.