Eric stared at Sarah, his mind racing through possibilities like a computer processing data.
'Twelve hours,' he thought frantically. 'I need to make her happy for twelve hours. But how? What does Sarah Sterling even enjoy besides judging my life choices?'
He ran through what he knew about her. Smart, obviously. She worked at some nonprofit organization doing community outreach. She was close with her brother. She had strong opinions about everything. She liked coffee, hated small talk, and seemed to have an almost pathological need to fix people she thought were broken.
Which, apparently, included him.
'Come on, think,' Eric urged himself. 'There has to be something. Some interest, some hobby, something that makes her actually happy instead of just perpetually disappointed.'
And then it hit him.
Volleyball.
He'd seen her once, completely by accident, about six months ago. He'd been driving past Stardale Community Center and caught a glimpse through the windows of someone with red hair absolutely destroying a volleyball game. It had taken him a moment to recognize Sarah, so different was she from her usual controlled, judgmental self. On that court, she'd been fierce, focused, alive in a way he'd never seen.
She played for Stardale's community team. He'd never mentioned it because she'd never brought it up, and Eric had assumed she kept her athletic life separate from her friendship with him and Rafe.
But now, it might be his way in.
Eric set down his phone, turning his full attention to Sarah. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you something."
Sarah looked up from her phone, immediately suspicious. "What?"
"Your volleyball team. Stardale Community, right? How's that going?"
The change in her expression was immediate and fascinating. Suspicion morphed into surprise, then confusion. "How do you know about that?"
"Saw you playing once. About six months ago. You were really good."
Sarah's blue eyes narrowed dangerously. "Were you stalking me?"
"What? No!" Eric held up his hands defensively. "I was driving past the community center. Saw someone playing through the windows. Took me a minute to realize it was you. That's it, I swear."
"And you never mentioned it?"
"You never mentioned it either," Eric pointed out. "I figured you had your reasons for keeping it separate."
Sarah studied him for a long moment, like she was trying to determine if he was lying. Finally, she seemed to accept it. "We practice three times a week. Games on weekends when we have them."
"Do you have a game today? Or practice?"
"Why?" The suspicion was back in full force. "Why do you want to know?"
Eric took a breath, committing to the lie he was about to tell. Or was it entirely a lie? The quest was real, even if his motivations were complicated.
"Because," he said carefully, "we've been friends for two years, Sarah. And you're right about what you said earlier. I don't really know you. Not beyond the surface stuff. And you don't really know me, beyond what you think you know about my work."
"I know enough," Sarah said, but there was less bite in it than usual.
"Do you?" Eric leaned forward, his crystalline blue eyes meeting her blue ones. "When's the last time we actually hung out? Just the two of us, without Rafe as a buffer? When's the last time we did something that wasn't just sitting around while you lectured me about my life choices?"
Sarah opened her mouth, then closed it. She couldn't actually answer that, because the answer was never. They'd never spent time alone together. Every interaction had either been with Rafe present or had devolved into arguments about Eric's profession.
"So," Eric continued, sensing an opening, "I want to change that. I want to actually spend time with you. Get to know you. See what Sarah Sterling is like when she's not busy disapproving of me."
"I don't disapprove of you," Sarah protested. "I disapprove of your choices."
"Potato, potato." Eric smiled, and it was only slightly forced. "Come on. Let's go out. Do something fun. You pick. Whatever you want."
Inside, Eric was dying. This was so far outside his comfort zone it wasn't even funny. He seduced women for a living, sure, but that was transactional, clear-cut. This was different. This was Sarah, who knew exactly what he was, who saw through his charm to the emptiness beneath, who wouldn't be impressed by anything he usually relied on.
But the quest timer was ticking in the corner of his vision. He needed her happy. He needed those twelve hours.
Sarah stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "Are you..." She paused, and a flush crept up her neck into her cheeks. "Are you asking me on a date?"
The way she said it, with that mix of horror and disbelief, would have been insulting if Eric hadn't been expecting exactly that reaction.
He laughed, loud and performative, like the idea was absurd. "A date? With you? Come on, Sarah. I'm talking about two friends hanging out. Getting to know each other. Nothing romantic about it."
But even as he said it, he watched her expression shift. The flush deepened, spreading across her face. Her blue eyes dropped to her lap, and she fidgeted with her phone.
"Oh," she said quietly. Then, so soft he almost missed it: "Right. Of course."
There was something in her voice. Disappointment? Eric couldn't quite read it, which was unusual. He'd made a career out of reading women's emotions.
Then Sarah looked up, and her expression had changed again. The flush was still there, painting her cheeks pink, but her eyes held something new. Determination, maybe. Or courage.
"Actually," she said, her voice stronger now, "if you really want to go out, then I'm fine with it."
Eric blinked. "You are?"
"Don't sound so shocked. You asked, didn't you?"
"I just... you hate spending time with me."
"I don't hate it," Sarah corrected, not meeting his eyes. "I just... we always end up fighting. But if you actually want to try, then yeah. Let's try."
Eric felt a rush of relief so strong it was almost dizzying. "Okay. Great. So, what do you want to do?"
Sarah thought for a moment, chewing her bottom lip. It was oddly endearing, that small gesture of uncertainty. "I want you to pick two options. And I'll choose one."
"Two options," Eric repeated. "Alright. Let me think."
He ran through possibilities. Something active, probably. Sarah didn't seem like the sit-still-and-talk type. Something that would let her relax, get out of her head, stop judging him long enough to actually enjoy herself.
"Option one," Eric said. "The amusement park. Stardale Fun Zone. Rides, games, terrible food. Classic weekend activity."
Sarah's expression brightened slightly. Good sign.
"Option two," he continued. "Movies. There's that new action thriller that just came out. We could catch an afternoon showing."
"Can we do both?" Sarah asked, then immediately looked embarrassed. "Sorry, that's greedy. You said pick one."
"Both works," Eric said quickly, relief flooding through him again. More time with her meant a better chance of completing the quest. "We'll hit the amusement park first, then catch a later movie. Make a whole day of it."
"Really?"
"Really. Come on, let's go before you change your mind."
They both stood, grabbing their things. Eric pulled on his jacket, Sarah adjusted her ponytail of vibrant red hair, and they headed for the door.
As they walked down to Eric's car, he couldn't help but think how surreal this was. Hours ago, he'd been with Isabelle DeVane in a luxury condo. Now he was taking Sarah Sterling to an amusement park like a teenager on a first date.
'Except it's not a date,' he reminded himself. 'It's a quest. A means to an end. Make her happy, complete the objective, get the rewards.'
But as he unlocked his car and Sarah slid into the passenger seat, smiling in a way he'd never seen before, something uncomfortable twisted in his chest.
'Don't overthink it,' Eric told himself firmly. 'Just get through the twelve hours.'
The drive to Stardale Fun Zone took twenty minutes. Eric paid for parking with his card, barely registering the cost. Money wasn't the issue today. Time was.
The amusement park sprawled across several acres, all bright colors and cheerful music and the screams of people on rides. It was packed with families, couples, groups of teenagers. The whole place smelled like popcorn and sugar and summer, despite it being late into the year.
Eric bought their tickets, waving off Sarah's attempt to pay for her own. "I invited you out. My treat."
"You're going to regret saying that when I want to ride everything," Sarah warned, but she was smiling.
They started with the smaller rides, warming up. A carousel that Sarah insisted on despite claiming it was childish. The swings that spun in circles, lifting them high enough to see the whole park. The bumper cars where Sarah proved to be viciously competitive, ramming into Eric's car with gleeful abandon.
"I'm starting to think you have anger issues," Eric said as they climbed out after their third round.
"I'm starting to think you're a terrible driver," Sarah shot back, but she was laughing.
They moved to the bigger rides. The Cyclone, a massive wooden roller coaster that rattled and shook and sent them plummeting down drops that made Eric's stomach lurch. Sarah screamed the whole way, hands in the air, red hair whipping wildly behind her. When they stumbled off, her face was flushed and her eyes were bright.
"Again," she demanded.
"You want to go again?"
"Absolutely."
They rode it three more times. By the third round, Eric had figured out the optimal way to handle the drops. By the fourth, Sarah was laughing too hard to scream properly.
Next was the Drop Tower. A massive structure that lifted riders slowly, agonizingly to the top, then dropped them in stomach-lurching free fall. Sarah's confidence wavered as they climbed higher.
"Oh God," she muttered, gripping the safety harness. "Oh God, this was a mistake."
"Too late now," Eric said cheerfully.
"I hate you."
"You suggested this ride!"
"I'm allowed to regret my choices!"
The drop came without warning. Sarah's scream was magnificent, echoing across the entire park. Eric couldn't help but laugh, even as his own stomach tried to climb out through his throat.
When they reached the bottom, Sarah's legs were shaking. "Never again."
"You loved it."
"I hated every second."
"Liar."
She glared at him, but she was smiling. "Fine. I loved it. Happy?"
"Very."
They wandered through the midway games next. Overpriced, mostly rigged, designed to separate people from their money. Eric normally would have avoided them entirely, but Sarah stopped at a balloon dart game.
"I want the elephant," she said, pointing at a massive stuffed elephant hanging as a prize.
"That thing's rigged," Eric warned.
"So? You said you're paying."
Eric sighed and handed over twenty dollars. The attendant, a bored teenager, handed him three darts.
"Pop three balloons, win a prize. Pop five, win a big prize."
Eric threw the first dart. It bounced off a balloon without popping it.
"Told you it's rigged," he muttered.
"You just have bad aim," Sarah said.
"I have excellent aim."
"Prove it."
Eric threw the second dart harder. It popped a balloon with a satisfying snap. The third dart hit another.
"Two out of three," the attendant said. "Want to try again?"
Eric handed over another twenty dollars. More darts.
This time, luck was with him. Or maybe spite was. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Five balloons in a row.
The attendant looked genuinely surprised. "Huh. Haven't seen that in a while. Pick your prize."
Sarah grabbed the massive elephant, hugging it to her chest. It was almost as big as she was, ridiculously oversized and completely impractical. She looked absurdly happy.
"I'm naming him Mr. Trunks," she declared.
"Of course you are."
"Don't judge Mr. Trunks."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
They continued through the park, hitting more rides, more games. Sarah insisted on the teacups, which spun until Eric felt vaguely nauseous. The Ferris wheel, which lifted them high above the park as the sun started to set, painting everything in gold and orange.
At the top, Sarah looked out over Stardale, Mr. Trunks balanced on her lap, and sighed contentedly.
"I haven't done this in years," she said quietly. "Just... gone out and had fun. No agenda, no stress. Just fun."
"Why not?" Eric asked.
Sarah shrugged. "Life gets busy. Work is demanding. And most people want to go to bars or clubs, which isn't really my scene. This is nice though. Really nice."
She turned to look at him, and something in her expression made Eric's chest tighten.
"Thank you," she said. "For suggesting this."
"You picked the activities," Eric pointed out.
"But you asked. That matters."
The Ferris wheel started its descent, and the moment passed. But something had shifted. Sarah was different now, relaxed in a way Eric had never seen. She laughed more easily, smiled without the usual edge of judgment, leaned into him slightly as they walked.
It was dangerous, Eric realized. This feeling. This sense that maybe this wasn't just a quest, maybe this was actually something real.
'Don't be stupid,' he told himself firmly. 'It's the quest. That's all. Just complete it and move on.'
But when Sarah linked her arm through his as they headed toward the exit, claiming she needed to hold onto him so she didn't drop Mr. Trunks, Eric didn't pull away.
They left the amusement park as the sky darkened, the park lights coming on one by one. Eric checked his phone. They'd spent over five hours there. His feet hurt, his wallet was lighter, and Sarah looked happier than he'd ever seen her.