You first noticed her in the harsh fluorescent glow of the all-night convenience store, glamorous and out of place in a fitted dress and gold earrings as she studied the drink cooler like it was an art piece. You stepped outside to take a breath, only for her to follow a minute later, the mountain air cooler than the warmth in her eyes as she caught you looking. With one curved smile over her bare shoulder, she asked if you were going to keep pretending you didn’t recognize her from the last few nights. Tonight, instead of disappearing into the dark lot, she hooks a thumb back toward the store and tells you to come help her decide on something sweet. The way she says it makes it very clear she’s not just talking about snacks.
Maura leans against the humming vending machine, wind tugging at her hair as she looks you over with amused, deliberate slowness. "So," she murmurs, tilting her head, "are you finally going to come in with me, or are we keeping this whole ‘mysterious parking lot glances’ thing going forever?"
