chapter 2 - growing disharmony

The phone call was answered within two rings. Not the action of a man who was trying to ignore her, thought Emille. Good boy.

"Hello? Emille? I've been meaning to. I meant to ...". The nervousness in his voice was uncharacteristic, but the rich, deeply melodic tone, unmistakable.

'Was he hiding something?' thought Emille to herself. He'd never sounded this uneasy before.

"How are you?" asked Nero, finally.

"Hello stranger," replied Emille provocatively, except monotone in manner. "I've been expecting a call from you, which never came. Why so?"

There was an audible sigh at the other end of the line, as if the mind involved had been battling itself over this very exchange. The relief was almost palpable in his voice as he spoke.

"I know Emille," sighed Nero, "I've been meaning to, I just couldn't ..."

Emille pounced on the pause.

"Why don't you explain it to me over dinner?" she interjected. "I think you at least owe me an explanation".

Negotiating means towards her own ends had always been Emille's strong point, and she couldn't help but take advantage of this newly found hesitancy in his voice.

"Yeah, okay" answered Nero. "I guess dinner would be good. Would be great, in fact. Easier to explain things like that."

"And it would be nice to see you again."

His last statement sounded genuine, as if escaping unhindered from an otherwise troubled mind, thought Emille. She smiled.

"How about Friday evening?" she prompted.

"Friday sounds good, I'll book us a place".

"Can I pick you up on the way?" Nero's question sounded hopeful.

"No-no," replied Emille, hastily.

She didn't want to give the impression that he could just waltz back into her apartment, and arms, as if nothing had happened. Disobedience had its price. And this time the price was going to be high.

"Just text me the details and I'll meet you there," she added brusquely.

"Great, I'll book us into my favourite place then," replied Nero, as if once again warming to the sound of her voice.

"Perfect, you do just that," replied Emille, licking her lips, as she surveyed her fingernails as she spoke.

She couldn't help but day dream about what his favourite place might be. And how often he went there, how much he ate. The cuisine? Was it Italian perhaps, or maybe Morrocan? Anything fattening and plentiful she hoped. Something she could truly take advantage of in future, mercilessly.

"Okay, I'll text you the details a.s.a.p," replied Nero, now at ease.

"See you Friday Nero," replied Emille, forcing a close to the exchange, on her terms.

"Bye Emille," he replied.

She hung up, but not soon enough to miss the faint echo of a kiss being blown down the line. It caught her pleasantly unawares. Strange even. 'Intentional or a slip?' she could neither decide. This boy intrigued her, that's for sure.

Claire had been privy to one half of the exchange.

"So?" she asked impatiently, waving her hand as if eager to be spoon-fed some of the detail.

"Tell me. What's his excuse? And why the hell are you giving him another chance?"

Emille couldn't say bluntly, 'because I want to fatten him up like the others,' so she had to think on her feet.

"Maybe I like him enough to give him a second chance, maybe I don't," she replied, deliberately playing her cards close to her chest.

"But I'm willing to spend more time on him to find out".

Claire sighed.

"If his recent behaviour is a sign of things to come Emille, you're making a big mistake".

"And I'm telling you that as your friend".

"Well it's my mistake to make," replied Emille, smiling.

"But I appreciate your concern nonetheless".

Although it was Nero who really should be concerned. His days as a thin man were now very much numbered.

*** ***