My beige heels clink on the wet pavement as I try to avoid the puddles. Not a very smart choice of colours, but I can allow myself that slip. The drops of rain caress my city printed umbrella in a range of rhythmic beats. That’s the music to my ears. I’ve missed it. God, I’ve missed it. I stop for a second to breath in cool October’s air, enjoying the taste of humidity as it fills in my lungs. I forgot how it feels in those three months in the desert.
I hold out my hand and catch a few drops, feeling them soak my skin, still dry from the abundance of sun and sand. I’ve always loved rain, especially after our latest mission with Eric in Lon-Is. I saved him from unnecessary interrogations from French police, playing his wife, probably the single role I neeedn’t to play. After a lovely time in the bubble bath, we’ve escaped the unfriendly Normandy coast on the jet ski as the wall of rain covered our tracks.
A sad smile curves my lips. That was the last time I saw Eric. I flew straight to the Cape-Af and he was supposed to get back to Mon York. His mission didn’t have an end date. That’s what he told me back then. Probably, some deep undercover. I didn’t pry. We never do, but I wish I did. Patience was never my strong side and lately it’s been getting worse. Five years in the agency, doing whatever they asked me to, five years without any proper leads, five years of making plans that were failing one after another. How much longer, Jules? You don’t want to dedicate all your life to vengeance and searching for answers, do you? I need to get on top of that. It’s high time to work out the solution which works. Who knows, maybe that known unknown will help with that?
Neon signs of Grand Boutique shimmer a few feet in front of me. I fold my umbrella, lunging inside. Not many people for the grand opening though. A few women near the counter, a group of people in the aisle with dresses and Erin, who runs towards me as soon as she lays her eyes on me.
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“Jules!” her arms wrap around me before I even get to say hi. She presses me to her chest, gently squeezing my hand – are you okay?
I squeeze Erin’s hand in response – I’m fine, pulling away to take a proper look at her. Smiling, in black jumpsuit. Exhausted. Probably, spending more nights in the lab. A bit sad. The heavy makeup doesn’t cover it or maybe I just know her too well to distinguish it in the greeness of her eyes. Will need to talk to her about it. She grew her hair and bleached it a bit. Now it streams down her shoulders, beach waves style. It suits her. Other than that it’s the same Erin, my partner, my bestie, my soul mate.
“Happy to see you, Erin.”
“You too, dear. You too. It’s been too long.”
“It definitely was,” I chuckle, making it seem a silly girlish conversation as I see the bald consultant squintingchis eyes at us.
“Come,” Erin pulls me to the aisle with warm winter clothes. “I found something. You will love it.”
Erin hands me over a hanger with a knitted dress, “It’s perfect for Christmas, right? What do you say?”
I frown, trying to grasp the story. There is always a story in my field of work. Erin shoves me another hanger. This time it’s the red sweater. I put a silly smile on my face,“It’s lovely!”
“And it suits you! With those black heels and red lipstick, it would be just perfect! And check the texture, it’s so smooth.”
I touch the red fabric, fidgeting it with my fingers. I glance at Erin. She’s radiant. Here we go. I give out a smile, this time a real one. That’s the story. Erin nods, confirming my theory.
“I guess you’ll need something too. What about this burgundy cardigan? You can take it for your lakehouse getaway. Warm sweater, fireplace, a glass of wine…”
Erin pokes me, rolling her eyes. Everything for the sake of the story, sis. I feel the movement from the side, signalling to Erin just in time.
“Anything I can help you with Miss, Madam?” half bold consultant Terry chimes in into our private conversation, reminding where we are.
Erin politely smiles, weighing the right words, but I outpace her, grabbing a few more hangers.
“No, thank you. I think I have everything I need. Just having some fun while dad is out of town, you know.” I pass the hangers to Terry, “Would you be so kind?”
Terry frowns but obliges, taking the hangers to the counter. Erin shakes her head at me. She doesn’t approve, but I simply follow the consultant to pay for the evidence we need. All means are justified here.