"Have a seat Miss …"
He was annoyed he didn't have that added barrier of formality between them. He still didn’t know her real name. He had no clue who this woman truly was. She guarded the details of her life like an encrypted file.
What was she hiding? What might she take from him if he took his eyes off her? She could be a criminal.
Spin eyed him with a taunting smile, as though she knew the trajectory of his thoughts. Her lifted brow dared him to ask.
He didn't. There wasn't much of value left in the estate. His father had sold off every heirloom worth more than a red cent to pay his debts. All that was left was fake or of sentimental value.
Besides, Spin would be leaving shortly. After she helped him out with this last task.
"I've waited the agreed upon hours before contacting Parker,” he said. “It’s time.”
"That's a good boy," Spin mocked.
Zhi grit his teeth. His tone was pleasant and professional when he spoke. “Please, help me craft this text message to her. Then you can help me with a bit of lingo while we wait for the response."
Spin held her hand out for his phone. "Let's see what you got, lover boy."
Instead of his phone, he offered her a sheet of legal paper.
He watched her eyes rapidly read over what he’d composed. "This is a letter."
"Yes." Zhi nodded.
Spin shook her head. She leaned over his desk and snatched his phone before he could react. By the time he made it around the desk and the barriers he’d erected, she was hitting send.
He looked down at the missive that would start his pursuit. It read; sup.
No upper case letters or punctuation in sight. Just those three simple letters that made no sense.
"Sup? What does that even mean?"
"What is up?" She enunciated every word.
"In what language?"
Spin ignored him. Three dots inside a bubble appeared on his phone's face. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.
"Should I clarify?" said Zhi. “Should we type all three of those words followed by a question mark?”
Spin yanked the phone out of his reach and frowned at him, exasperation clear on her pretty face. A ding sounded, alerting them that there was a response. Spin pulled the phone back to her so that they both could read.
It read: chillaxing.
Still no upper case letters. No punctuation.
"Is that even English?" he asked.
Spin sighed and pursed her lips.
"What?” Zhi bent over her looking from the two-worded conversation and back to her scrunched face. “What's wrong?"
"It's a declarative statement," she said.
"What's that mean?" he said. He knew what a declarative statement was. But not in that context.
"She didn't elaborate.”