Friday afternoon light poured through the office windows, turning everything gold. Alex leaned back in his chair, watching the last lines of code compile on the holographic display.
"There," Sienna said. She stood beside the desk, arms crossed, studying the readout. "Module seven is stable. No memory leaks. No crashes."
Alex nodded. "That's one down. Four more to go."
"One week in and we're already a fourth done." She turned to look at him, satisfaction clear on her face. "At this rate, we'll have the full integration system running in two, maybe three weeks."
"If nothing breaks."
"Always the optimist." She moved around the desk, closer to him. "You know, most contractors I hire take twice as long and complain the whole time. You just work."
"That's what you're paying me for."
Sienna took another step forward. Her hand reached out, fingers pressing against his chest. Light pressure. Lingering there longer than necessary.
"I miss this," she said quietly. Her eyes stayed on his face, searching for something. "Your hands on me. The way you made me feel that night."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Thought you said it was just once. No complications."
She laughed, but her hand didn't move. "I did say that."
"You definitely did."
"Well." Her fingers traced a slow line down his chest, stopping just above his belt. "Maybe I underestimated how good it was."
Alex caught her hand gently, stopping it from going lower. "Sienna."
"What?" She stepped even closer now, her body almost pressing against his. "You can't tell me you haven't thought about it. That night. My office. The sofa. The window."
He had. More than once. But he also had somewhere to be in less than two hours.
"I think about it," Alex admitted, his voice steady. "But I also remember the rules. Your rules."
"Rules can change."
"Can they?"
She looked up at him, and there was something vulnerable in her expression now. Something that wasn't usually there. "Have I done something wrong? You've been different this week. Distant."
Alex studied her face. This wasn't just attraction talking anymore. This was insecurity. Fear that she'd lost his attention somehow.
'I guess I really did put a scar on her. Now she can't stay away.'
"It's not that," he said carefully.
"Then what is it?"
"I have plans tonight. And if I stay here any longer, I'm going to be late."
Sienna's eyes narrowed slightly. "Plans with who?"
"Someone."
"Someone." She let out a slow breath and stepped back, giving him space again. "Fine. Go then. But we're not done with this conversation."
Alex stood up from the chair, grabbing his jacket from where it hung on the backrest. "I know we're not."
He leaned in and kissed her. Not deep. Just enough to taste her lips, feel the way she responded immediately. Her eyes closed on instinct, lips parting slightly as she leaned into it, wanting more.
Then he pulled back.
Her eyes opened slowly, disappointment clear in them now.
Alex smirked and started walking toward the door. He could feel her watching him the entire way.
"Alex," she called after him when his hand touched the door handle.
He turned back.
"Whoever she is," Sienna said, her voice quiet but pointed, "she better be worth it."
"Guess we'll find out."
He walked out before she could say anything else.
---
The restaurant was exactly where Amara said it would be. Elegant without being pretentious. Warm lighting spilled out onto the street through large windows that showed glimpses of people dining inside.
Alex walked through the entrance and a host greeted him immediately. Young guy, well-dressed, professional smile already in place.
"Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?"
"I'm meeting someone. Amara Ruiz."
The host's expression shifted subtly. Still professional, but more cautious now. "Of course. Right this way, sir."
Alex followed him through the main dining area. His eyes moved across the room naturally, taking everything in without being obvious about it. Tables scattered throughout the space. Couples leaning close over candlelight. Small groups laughing quietly. Soft jazz playing from speakers hidden somewhere in the ceiling.
Then he started noticing the details that didn't quite fit.
A man standing near the bar. Black suit, hands clasped in front of him. Not drinking. Not talking to anyone. Just standing there with his eyes moving constantly across the room.
Another one by the entrance to the kitchen. Same suit. Same posture. Same watchful eyes.
A third near the windows. Slightly older than the other two, gray at the temples. Earpiece barely visible in his right ear.
Security detail.
'Of course. She's the First Lady. Privacy probably stopped being an option the day she married him.'
The host led him to a corner table, partially hidden from the rest of the dining room by a decorative screen. Good sightlines to both the entrance and the emergency exits. Strategic positioning.
And there she was.
Amara stood as he approached, and Alex felt his breath catch slightly.
She wore a dark green dress that was somehow both elegant and understated. The color was deep and rich, catching the low light in a way that made it look almost black in the shadows. It hugged her waist and hips before flowing down to just above her knees. Sleeveless, showing toned arms that clearly came from actual work rather than molecular assembly. Her brown hair was down tonight, falling past her shoulders in soft natural waves.
She looked stunning. Not in the artificial, over-designed way so many people in Neo-Brasília did. This was different. Natural. Confident. Real.
"You're early," she said as he reached the table.
"So are you."
"I'm always early." A small smile touched her lips. "Habit from years of living on a schedule that doesn't bend for anyone."
Alex took a moment to really look at her up close. Warm brown eyes that were currently studying him with equal interest. Strong features. Flawless skin with that natural glow that couldn't be faked. Full lips that curved slightly as she noticed him looking.
"You look incredible," Alex said.
Her smile widened genuinely. "Thank you." Her eyes moved over him now, taking in the dark suit, the way it fit his shoulders, the open collar of his white shirt. "You clean up well yourself. Much better than the last time I saw you."
"Yeah, well. Showers and lack of blood help."
She laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. "Sit. Please."
Alex pulled out his chair and sat down. There was a mirror on the wall behind Amara, partially obscured by the decorative screen. He caught a glimpse of himself in it. The suit looked good. Sharp. Professional without trying too hard. June had done well with the design.
'Not bad, Mercer. You actually look like you belong here.'
"How's your shoulder?" Amara asked, pulling his attention back.
"Better. Still sore if I move it wrong, but healing."
"Good. I was half expecting you to show up with fresh bandages and another dramatic story about saving someone." Her eyes sparkled with amusement.
"Sorry to disappoint."
"Oh, I'm not disappointed." Her gaze held his for a moment longer than necessary. "Trust me on that."
A comfortable silence settled between them. Not awkward. Just two people taking each other in without needing to fill every second with words.
A waitress approached their table. Young woman, maybe mid-twenties. Professional demeanor, confident in the way she moved. She had curves that her uniform showed off without being inappropriate, but it was the self-assured way she carried herself that actually stood out.
"Good evening," she said with a warm smile. "Can I start you both with drinks?"
Amara ordered wine without needing to look at the menu. The waitress wrote it down efficiently, then turned to Alex.
"And for you, sir?"
"Same. Whatever she's having is fine."
The waitress nodded and walked away, her movements smooth and practiced.
Alex's eyes followed her for just a second. Quick glance, nothing more. Just natural observation.
When he looked back, Amara was watching him with obvious amusement dancing in her eyes.
"You noticed her," she said. Not accusatory. Just stating a fact.
Alex smiled slightly. "I did."
"Honest. I appreciate that." She picked up the water glass in front of her, took a small sip. "Most men in your position would pretend they only have eyes for me. Especially on a first date."
"Would you prefer I lie to you?"
"God, no. I get enough of that every single day." She set the glass down with a soft clink. "It's refreshing actually. Shows you're not performing for me. Not putting on some act you think I want to see."
"What's the point of that? You'd see through it eventually anyway."
"True. But most people don't think that far ahead." She leaned back slightly in her chair, studying him with open curiosity now. "So what do you do, Alex Mercer? Besides saving First Ladies from attackers."
"Delivery services mostly. Some freelance tech consulting when the work's available. Whatever pays the bills and keeps things interesting."
"That's deliberately vague."
"It's also honest."
She smiled at that. "I like that. Most people in this city are so busy inflating themselves they forget what honesty actually sounds like."
"What about you? Do you like being First Lady?"
Her smile faded slightly, replaced by something more thoughtful. "That's a complicated question."
"Give me the simple version then."
"Some days I love it. Some days I wonder what I gave up to get here." She paused, looking down at her hands where they rested on the table. "I used to work in urban development. City planning. I loved the idea of building something that would last. Something that actually mattered."
"Do you miss it?"
"Every single day." She looked back up at him, and there was real weight in her eyes now. "But this life demands sacrifices. You either accept that or it destroys you from the inside out."
"Which one are you doing?"
"Accepting it." She took another sip of water. "Mostly. Some days are definitely harder than others."
The waitress returned with their wine, setting the glasses down gracefully before disappearing again without interrupting their conversation.
Amara picked up her wine glass but didn't drink immediately. "Can I tell you something that's probably going to sound like complaining?"
"Please."
"Molecular assembly was supposed to revolutionize everything. Make life better for everyone." Her voice took on an edge now, something passionate breaking through the polished exterior. "Instead it's created this massive wealth gap. The rich can afford to create anything they want. The poor can barely afford basic necessities. We're supposed to be living in some kind of technological utopia, but half the population is struggling more now than they were twenty years ago."
Alex watched her carefully. This wasn't rehearsed talking points. This was real frustration with a system she was trapped inside.
"You sound like you actually care about that," he said.
"Of course I care. It's literally my job to care." She paused, seeming to catch herself. "Well, it's supposed to be. Sometimes I wonder if anyone with actual power to change things is listening. Or if they just tune me out because it's easier."
"They should listen to you."
"Should and do are very different things, Alex."
They kept talking as they ordered food. The conversation flowed easier than Alex had expected. No forced topics. No awkward silences. Just two people discovering they actually enjoyed talking to each other.
She told him about growing up in Neo-Brasília before molecular assembly changed everything. About watching the city transform around her. About meeting her husband during his campaign and being drawn to his vision for the future, even if that vision hadn't quite worked out the way either of them had hoped.
Alex kept his own stories deliberately vague but honest enough to feel real. Moving between jobs. Living day to day. Trying to find his place in a city that sometimes felt like it was actively working against people like him.
Time moved. Their food arrived and they ate while continuing to talk. Laughed more than Alex had expected to. The tension from earlier faded into something comfortable. Natural.
At some point during dessert, Amara leaned forward slightly, her elbows on the table. "Can I be honest with you about something?"
"Please."
"I don't want this to end yet." She said it simply. Direct. "This. Tonight. This conversation. I'm not ready for it to be over."
Alex met her eyes. "Then don't let it end."
"My security will follow wherever we go. They always do. It's not optional." She glanced briefly toward where one of the bodyguards stood near the bar. "But I can tell them to give us actual space. Real privacy. If you want to go somewhere more private, I mean."
'This is it. This is the opening I need.'
Alex kept his expression natural, interested but not too eager. "I'd like that."
---
Twenty minutes later they were in a small private lounge on the restaurant's upper floor. Intimate space. Soft lighting. Comfortable leather furniture arranged to encourage conversation.
The bodyguards stayed outside the glass door. Visible but not close enough to hear anything being said inside.
Amara sat on the leather couch, and Alex sat beside her. Close but not quite touching yet. The space between them felt charged somehow. Electric.
"This is better," she said, turning slightly to face him more directly.
"More private."
"Exactly." She looked at him for a long moment. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Do you usually move this fast? First date and already asking to go somewhere private?"
Alex smiled. "Do you?"
She laughed at that. "Touché." The laughter faded into something softer. "I don't actually. Usually I'm very careful. Very measured about everything. But with you it feels different somehow."
"Different how?"
"Like I don't have to perform. Like I can just be myself without worrying about how it looks or what people will think." She looked down at her hands briefly, then back up at him. "That's rare for me."
The space between them felt smaller now somehow. Like the air itself was pulling them closer together.
Amara's eyes dropped to his lips. Just for a second. Then back up to meet his gaze.
Alex leaned in slowly. Giving her time to pull back if she wanted to.
She didn't pull back.
She leaned in too, her eyes starting to close, her lips parting slightly.
They were inches apart now. Close enough that Alex could feel her breath.
'Finally. This is it.'
The door opened.
One of the bodyguards stood there. The older one with gray at the temples. His expression was apologetic but completely firm. "Ma'am. The President is requesting your immediate presence."
Amara's eyes snapped open. She pulled back slightly, frustration clear on her face. "I'm busy."
"It's urgent, ma'am. Direct orders from the President himself. He needs you at the Palace immediately."
She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a slow breath. When she opened them again, the frustration was still there but buried under layers of resignation. "Of course he does."
She stood up. Alex stood with her.
"I'm sorry," she said, turning to face him fully.
"It's fine. I understand."
"When can I see you again?" There was genuine disappointment in her voice.
Alex read the room carefully. Didn't push too hard. "Whenever your schedule allows. I'm flexible."
"My schedule is absolutely insane right now. Independence Day is next week and everything is complete chaos." She paused, seeming to consider something. "But I'll find time. I promise."
"Will you actually? Or is that something you tell people to be polite?"
She stepped closer to him, close enough that he could smell her perfume. Something subtle and expensive. "I'm planning to already. That's not a polite deflection, Alex. That's a promise."
She leaned in and kissed his cheek. Soft. Brief. Her lips lingered there just a second longer than necessary.
Then she pulled back, gave him one last look, and walked toward the door where her security detail was waiting.
Within seconds she was gone, the bodyguards forming a protective wall around her as they left.
Alex stood there alone in the private room. His cheek still warm where her lips had been.
'Fuck. I was right there. Right fucking there. Next time I won't miss.'
He could still feel the ghost of how close they'd been. Could still see the way her eyes had started to close as she'd leaned in.
But next time. There would be a next time.
'And next time I'll make sure nothing interrupts.'
He walked back downstairs and out of the restaurant. The night air was cool against his face as he headed toward where his truck was parked.
A notification appeared in his vision.
[New Quest Assigned: Presidential Infiltration]
[Objective: Infiltrate Presidential residence during Independence Day celebrations. Deliver packages to President's secure vault location.]
[Time Limit: Before Independence Day ceremonies conclude. 72 hours maximum.]
[Reward: 500,000 credits + Security Clearance Override Skill + 30 Stat Points]
[Warning: Presidential security will be at maximum operational capacity during Independence Day. Detection results in immediate mission termination and severe penalties. Plan accordingly.]
Alex stared at the notification as he walked.
Seventy-two hours. Three days to figure out how to infiltrate the Presidential residence during the biggest security event of the year.
'Should be interesting.'
He climbed into his truck and started the engine.
Three days until Independence Day.
Three days to plan.
Three days until everything either came together perfectly or fell completely apart.
Alex pulled out into traffic, his mind already working through possibilities.