“You’re insane, you know that, right?” It feels like I’ve said this same line about a hundred times already. I hold the door open so he can step past me and into the restaurant. He keeps his arms locked over his lower-back as he looks around the place. No, mister Bond, there are no traps here, I made sure of it.

“You’re not the first to say it.” I smirk and release the door so I can reach for the notebook in my breast-pocket.

“So, you are aware.”

“I didn’t say I agreed with it.”

I roll my eyes and wave at the lady behind the counter once I walk in. I only have to hold up two fingers and point over at my client for her to know what to write down for our table. The place isn’t deserted, but it’s quiet enough for us to have a private conversation even if we happen to get a little loud. I motion towards a table in the corner of the room and bring out my memopad so I can ask him questions straight away.

I must still be half-asleep because I can’t fathom why Zhulong pulls out my chair for me. I don’t know how to react, so I freeze up. No one has ever offered me such a gesture, so I don’t know where to begin or what to say. It looks like my hesitation has embarrassed him as well, because he lets go of the back of the chair and takes a seat on the opposite side.

“Force of habit…”

Yeah, why don’t you just scream ‘I get laid’ instead? 

I sigh and sit down with my back facing the wall.

“Don’t try to charm me as you would a woman. I’m a lot less picky with my men.” Although, I’m sure both men and women find his face very attractive… as long as he stays silent.

“I didn’t expect you to have no standards.”

“Did I say I had no standards? I said I’m less picky.” At least women know what they want in a man– haven’t met a woman who doesn’t. I’m not sure what I would answer if someone asked me to describe my ideal man. Someone tall and strong? Someone reliable? Or someone I can have fun with and dominate with no shred of remorse or guilt? 

So, someone who can take a beating? No, that just sounds wrong. 

My eyes drift to Zhulong, and the man is scanning the area from front to back with curiosity. It’s a shame he’s so yappy when he has such a pretty face.

Well, I could muzzle him…

No, he’s a client. Besides, he has a desk-job. I doubt he’d be able to keep up with me even if he were to entertain my fantasy.

“May I take your order?” I didn’t notice the waitress straight away, so I’m caught by surprise. She must be a new hire– she’s not wearing a uniform. Her nametag says ‘Clarice’. 

“Oh, I’ve already ordered for us. The lady in the back should be preparing it now,” Zhulong looks at me as if to say ‘I didn’t order anything’ but I hold my hand up in hopes he’ll understand he should remain quiet for now. Not his greatest strength, but thankfully (much like a dog) he listens when it matters. “-we’ll just have a couple of drinks for now. I’ll call you over if we need anything else.”

“Alright, I understand. I’ll be right back with your order.” Zhulong doesn’t say anything until she’s walked past the counter and into the kitchen. She looked a little bit on edge. It must be her first day working full-time.

Although, who wears a turtle-neck in the middle of summer?

“I don’t drink.” I turn to face my stubborn client with a frown.

“What are you, a geode? If you’re human, you drink.” 

“I’d rather not be intoxicated around you.” Wow, and what is that supposed to mean? Does he want me to deck him again? At least the alcohol would cushion his fall this time.

“Why do you assume I ordered alcoholic beverages?” He looks a little surprised– as if he didn’t realize he was making a general assumption. Not that he’ll apologize for it, of course.

“Did you not?”

“I like my men sober,” I bring out my ballpoint pen and flip to an empty page to start writing. ‘Fucking annoying’ right under ‘no alcohol’. “-both at work and in bed. I don’t find bumbling incoherence sexy.”

“Good to know.” Before he gets any ideas, I point the end of my pen at him to clarify something.

“I don’t find incessant yapping sexy either, for the record.” He looks down at my pen, and then back up at me. I spot the hint of a snide smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Good to know.” Smartass. He’s so lucky he’s easy on the eyes.

“Sorry for the wait.” The waitress comes back with our beverages and sets them down on the table. I glance at her wrist and notice she’s wearing a white set of gloves. Those aren’t typically part of the uniform here. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Wait,” I ask her to step closer so I can dig through my pocket and hand her a twenty for her service. I need to get rid of my change anyway. Who carries physical bills anymore in this century? “A tip.”

“Um… but I didn’t really do much for this…” Does that matter? Or is a twenty-dollar bill too big a tip for her? Looks like she’s the hardheaded and hardworking type. It’s not a bad thing to feel like you need to earn your keep, but it’s important to accept other people’s appreciation as well. 

“You delivered our drinks, and that’s good enough.” I slip it into her palm and close her fingers around it. She doesn’t flinch when I touch her, but she seems surprised by my gesture. “Your shift is over by now, isn’t it? Think of the tip as an end to a good day’s work.”

“....How do you know that?” She looks rightfully creeped out, so I do my best to put her mind at ease.

“I know the owner’s daughter. She works the late night shift here from Friday to Sunday. That’s all.”

“Oh!” she gasps and covers her lips. Looks like she won’t be fighting me about the tip anymore. “I’m so sorry, I got the wrong idea.” No, she’s got a good head on her shoulders, but I can’t exactly commend her for suspecting me when I meant no harm. The easier it is for someone to notice anomalies like this, the harder it is for real creeps to trick them. Makes my job easier in the long-run, too. I just needed to see if my own suspicions had any merit or if they were unfounded.

“No need. Take it.” She smiles brightly and accepts the gesture. Seems like she just needed a moment to breathe to get her spirits back. Working eight whole hours at this place must be painful when she’s just starting out.

“Thank you! Have a good rest of your night!” I offer her a smile and wave her goodbye when the lady in the kitchen calls her over. I glance at the clock above the exit, and notice that she’s worked overtime by about twenty minutes. The owner’s daughter must be running late. It isn’t shocking to see that they’ve hired more help.

But why her? 

She looks to be in her late teens or early twenties. I’d say she’s close to the owner’s daughter in age. I might be off the mark by a few years, but a child like her should be going to school. Is she catering on top of going to class? That can’t make this any easier. Do her parents need some extra money to get by? But there are part-time jobs that pay more than they do at this establishment, and it won’t eat up her time like this one will.

Am I rightfully inquisitive or am I simply paranoid?

“Do you know her?” I turn back to face my client and shake my head.

“First time I met her. Why?”

“You seemed friendly with her.”

“I’m a very friendly person.” I snicker when he makes a face at me. I said it in part because it’s true and in part to mess with him. “I just enjoy the ambiance here. I don’t want any of the workers to quit.” Tips aren’t required, but it doesn’t hurt to incentivise people to come back more often. The establishment has been struggling to find steady employment, so I really hope she doesn’t quit. She’s swift, polite, and by the quick little exchange we had, she seems bright, too. It would be a shame if someone less competent was to replace her. 

Now, let’s get to business.