Taken By The Bull

“Good afternoon!” The cheery tone of a waiter interrupted her; turning her head, she was greeted with a impeccably white shirt with orange trim worn over a plain black cotton shirt and pants, and a pleasant smile from the young man with the slightly crooked teeth who had come to take their order. “What will be your pleasure today?”

“Oh, hi, Davis!” Dawn trilled, seeming as pleased to see him as if he were her oldest and best-loved friend. “I’ll have an espresso. My usual Brazilian roast, of course.”

“Of course, Miss Ashleigh. And your companion?” The waiter turned to look at Staci, his expression questioning, the pencil hovering over his pad. Waiting.

Staci paused a moment, feeling somehow thrown off by the way that the question was directed at Dawn, but his gaze pointed at herself. “I’ll, uh – latte, with sugar? I don’t care about what ‘roast’ it has. Whatever you think is best.”

“Of course, ma’am.” Was there a note of condescension in his tone? It was so hard to tell, sometimes. “Coming right up.”

As the waiter retreated, Staci felt a flicker of annoyance. What was I about to ask? Dammit! Before she had a chance to remember, Dawn was talking again.

“Honestly, you might as well order a common-brewed coffee like something from a hotel room if you just want a sugary latte. You know, you can tell a lot about a person by what kind of coffee they drink.”

“I’m just not much of a coffee drinker. I didn’t even go inside a coffee-house until I was twenty-two.” Staci shrugged her shoulders delicately, hoping that this would be enough to steer the conversation back onto her terms. After all, she really wasn’t here to drink coffee, but to ask questions. “So-”

“Oh, that’s so sad! Did you grow up in a poor neighborhood?”

Don’t even go there. “Not especially,” she lied. “I just had other things on my mind for most of my youth – still do. Anyway-”

“There are a few wonderful places in Jackson, that I’ve been to. It must be interesting, living in the big city. Really interesting. I bet you know some good stories!” Dawn leaned forward with her elbows up on the glass table-top, a mischievous half-smile on her face. “What about all the gangs and crimes? Do you know anyone who is in jail?”

“I – uh. No. No, I don’t.” Staci’s voice sounded hesitant, while she wondered to herself, why is she asking me that? “Jackson has a pretty high crime rate, yes. A lot of people, a lot of different kinds of people, but – that doesn’t mean I know anyone personally, who is a criminal.”

“That’s almost disappointing.” Dawn pouted slightly, flipped a tress of long blonde hair back over her shoulder, and sighed. “I’ve heard such fascinating stories about the urban sprawl. Oh, well. I suppose, since you’re in the media, you must have some interesting things to talk about.”

‘Some’ interesting things to talk about? “Well, you know how it is – I can’t talk about work much.” She offered her most casual and world-weary shrug, hoping that she looked like someone who was so used to dealing with secrets and scandals of the rich and powerful that it wasn’t any big deal to her, anymore. “It’s a curse of the job.”

“Really?” Dawn smiled, all white, perfectly-aligned teeth and pink gloss. “I looked you up on Google, of course. I could only find clips about grocery-store openings, But hey, I’m just a small town girl. Maybe Wal-Mart is a hotbed of intrigue. I wouldn’t know.”

“Like I said, I’m not just an on-screen personality.” Staci frowned slightly, feeling caught-out. “I do a lot more than cover business openings, but of course I’m not assigned to high-profile cases quite yet. After all, I only just turned twenty-five.”

“That’s cute!” The words came, quick, light, casual – but there was no mistaking the smirk on Dawn’s face. “I’d started, ran, and sold my first business, at a five hundred per cent profit, by the time I was twenty-three.”

Perhaps it was a good thing that the waiter brought their coffee at that moment; a good thing, because Staci would have found it hard not to glare daggers at the woman sitting opposite.

Okay. She’s – literally – the Devil, Staci thought, crossing her feet neatly under the table. Okay, maybe not literally, and maybe not the Devil. Close, though… But, two can play that game, Evilina. “Perhaps one day, someone else will be thinking of running a story on you, then.” Pausing a moment, Staci let that sink in. “Right now, I’m looking to get a clear perspective on Steve Law from both his present – and past – acquaintances.”

The smile on Dawn’s face froze over, her fingers tightening around the coffee-cup in her hand. Staci wondered what, exactly, did it – the implication that Steve was more successful than her? That she was on the list of ‘past’ acquaintances – or that she was merely an acquaintance? Either way; a small and rather childish part of her rather enjoyed that reaction. Professional? No. Not at all. But satisfying.

“I’m not about to tell you anything that’ll damage his image, if that’s what you’re asking.” Dawn’s tone was much cooler than it had been before, as she twisted a lock of straight shiny hair around one perfectly-manicured finger. “Everyone knows that the press is all about wrecking homes and careers, just for the scoop. I wouldn’t let any harm come to Steve.”

I like how she puts ‘homes’ in before ‘careers’ in the list of things that I might ‘wreck’. Almost like a… Home-wrecker? Oh, Dawn. You’re such a trope.

“I’m not asking anything, really,” Staci replied, quick, and polite. “After all, you were the one who asked me to lunch. For this very reason, actually.” Pausing to take a sip of her coffee, her eyes tilted up to meet Dawn’s cold gray stare as she put the cup back on the tabletop. She didn’t want this whole meeting to be a bust; so maybe, it would be best to play along. Just a little. “After all, you probably know Steve better than anyone.”

“Well.” The lock of blonde hair was loosed from Dawn’s fingers as she crossed her arms on the table before her. “That’s true.”

If it wasn’t for the delicate balance of the situation, Staci would have rather liked to bring Seth into the equation – after all, it would be difficult for any rational person to believe, given the closeness of the two brothers, that anyone could know Steve better than his own blood. She’s really quite delusional, the young reporter thought. I mean, it’s kind of sad, really-

Wait. What am I doing? Judging a woman because she’s having trouble getting over a long-term relationship? Pretending to be nice, and mocking her in my head where she can’t defend herself? Staci’s brow furrowed slightly. Jeez. Get your act together, girl – you’re a professional, not a teenage high school girl, cat-fighting over a boy. Don’t be drawn into this. You’re better than that!

“So… Uh. Yes.” Staci cleared her throat and looked up, to see Dawn staring at her with an odd expression; perhaps there had been too long of a lull in the conversation. Perhaps, Dawn just thought she was odd. Either was perfectly possible. “So – you’ve known Steve since high school?”

“Oh, I’ve known him since I was a child. Our mothers were best friends.” The blonde woman reached into her purse; for one heart-stopping second, Staci almost believed she was about to pull out a slim handgun and point it in her face – but no. Just a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. “But, we got together when we were fifteen.”

The next question came naturally. “So what was Steve like, in high school?”