Three Weeks Later

T here was a knock at Violet's office door. She looked up and smiled immediately.

"Hi," she said.

"I just wanted to say hello."

"How's it going so far? First day, right?"

"First day, yes. Going through the new-hire orientation stuff, mostly, and getting my computer set up. I've never had my own office before, so I'll have to decorate that, too, I guess. Yours looks nice." Rachel walked in.

"Thanks. So, what are you doing right now?"

"Lunch. And I came to see if you wanted to take me up on that lunch I owe you."

"You don't owe me lunch," she replied. "And I can't. I have a meeting in three minutes. Maybe tomorrow?"

"I'm having a working lunch with Mark and Angelo tomorrow."

"Right. Wednesday?" she asked.

"I can check my calendar. I don't have it installed on my phone yet. Can I get back to you?"

"Of course." Violet looked at her own calendar. "I can do one, but I'm booked the rest of the day."

"I'll see if I'm free. If not… Maybe another time?"

Violet bit her lip and said, "If you want, I could buy you a welcome-to-the-company drink tonight. There's a bar across the street. The drinks are good, and it's usually not too loud or crowded." She laughed. "I'm showing my age now, aren't I?"

"Your age?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah. I haven't been a fan of loud, crowded bars since I was in my mid-twenties."

"How old are you now ? You look–" Rachel paused. "I can't believe I just asked you that."

"It's okay. I'm thirty-six. I'll be thirty-seven in a couple of months. So, I think I'm past the loud-crowded-bar stage of life."

"So am I," Rachel replied quickly. "I also never really entered that phase in the first place, to be fair. I was way too young to be asked to go anywhere with anyone in college. Then, I started working, but being at least ten years younger than anyone I worked with – so, not at all in the same phase of life as they were, yet again – not a lot of invites."

"I just invited you," Violet reminded.

"Okay. Yeah," Rachel said. "After work?"

"Five-thirty? I have a meeting at five."

"I'll meet you back here at five-thirty, then."

"Great."

"Your next meeting is here," Courtney said as she leaned into the open doorframe. "Want me to tell them to wait?"

"No, I'm heading out now," Rachel said for her. "I'll see you later," she added for Violet.

"Yeah, later."

Violet had finally managed to get some sleep after the interview with Rachel three weeks ago, feeling like Rachel was a shoo-in for the role and that they'd see one another again soon. Then, the next day, Mark had confirmed that they'd get an offer out to her, and later, Rachel's start date had been set. Violet hadn't been able to sleep much the night before that start date, though, and she'd spent more time getting ready that morning than she cared to admit because she wanted to look nice for Rachel's first day.

The device was still in her garage, but she'd put it in one of the cabinets attached to the workbench and had used a padlock to keep it locked in there, hiding the key in the top drawer of her bedside table so that no one would happen upon it and decide to go snooping. The fence was also done around the pool, so she'd bought her rapidly growing puppy a doghouse, that was much too large for him now but he'd grow into it, and placed it in the backyard. Installing a doggy door that would also grow with him had been a challenge, but at least it had kept Violet busy and not thinking about Rachel for a few hours. Well, that wasn't really true. She hadn't stopped thinking about the woman at all, but she'd tried.

Violet couldn't help how she felt. She liked Rachel – the little she knew about her, that is – and she'd gotten that feeling when they'd talked at the interview that there was something between them. Still, she needed to be cautious. She'd seen a future where they were married and had grown children and even grandchildren, but she couldn't just put herself in the position of creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. If this was real, if she was meant to be with this woman, it had to happen naturally and be unforced.

"God, why do I sound like a time-traveler trying not to see themselves in the future so as not to cause some kind of horrible loop situation? And why do I even know that that's a thing?" she mumbled to herself after her last meeting of the day ended.

"Hey, are you ready?" Rachel asked.

"Yes!" she said with a little too much enthusiasm in her voice and instantly blushed. "I mean, yeah. Thanks. Sure," she rambled out.

"Okay." Rachel laughed. "Sorry; I know it's, like, exactly five-thirty, but I was done for the day. If you need a minute, though, I–"

"It's fine. I'm done, too," Violet interjected, not wanting her to go.

She knew this wasn't a date. It was two work colleagues grabbing a drink. That was all. It just also happened to be a drink with the woman who might become her wife one day. Violet grabbed her bag, leaving her laptop on her desk, and walked toward her office door, where Rachel stood outside of it.

"So, do we just walk?"

"Yes. It's literally across the street." Violet closed the door and turned to see Courtney staring at her.

"What about your Little Guy?"

"Your little guy?" Rachel asked her.

"My puppy," Violet explained. "And I arranged for the dog walker, so don't worry about him, Mom," she teased.

"Have fun, sweetie ," her assistant joked.

"You have a puppy?" Rachel asked her as they walked toward the elevators.

"I do. He's gotten so big, though… I'm not sure how long they're classified as puppies when they grow that fast."

"What kind of dog?"

"German Shepherd."

"I love them. What's his name?"

"He doesn't have one yet."

"Oh. How long have you had him?"

"Well, many weeks now, if I'm being honest. I've been calling him Little Guy or, sometimes, just Guy."

Rachel laughed and pressed the button to call the elevator.

"Is that just his name by default?"

"No, but I've thought about every name and can't seem to find one I like for him, so I've just kept calling him that. He knows it now, but he also responds to ‘buddy,' ‘dog,' ‘baby,' ‘puppy,' and a few other names, too, so maybe he doesn't need one."

Rachel laughed some more as the elevator arrived, and they got inside. She pressed the button for them and turned to Violet.

"What names have you ruled out?"

"All of them."

"But give me some examples."

"There are too many."

"Okay. Fine. Tell me about him, then."

Violet laughed and said, "He's a puppy. He has a ton of energy and runs around all the time. Last week, I lost power for about five minutes and needed the flashlight to get around. He chased it when I aimed it at the floor, so I kept doing that, and he was like a cat with a laser pointer." She laughed again. "And he darts off a lot. The backyard is pretty big. He'll run straight out of the doggy door I just put in, and there's nothing out there to aim at, but he'll run and run in a straight line before he turns around and runs right back inside."

"Like an arrow you've fired at something," Rachel said softly.

"I guess, yeah." Violet laughed again.

"Apollo," Rachel said.

"What?"

"You said you were Greek, right?"

"Half, yeah."

"Well, my mother was born and raised there. My dad is a second-generation American. They met because my mom is a Greek mythology professor, and my dad is a law professor at the same university. I grew up being told all about the gods and goddesses."

"So, you think I should name him Apollo?"

"Apollo is the god of a lot of things: music, healing, light. He was also an archer and had a nice silver bow, so there's your arrow." Rachel smiled at her. "Plus, he was the god of truth and can't tell a lie. I have a feeling your puppy will never lie to you. Oh, and he was responsible for driving the sun across the sky with his chariot, kind of like your little guy driving that flashlight across your floor."

"Right," she said and swallowed. "He was also known for his oracle at Delphi."

"You know about Greek mythology?"

"I know enough," she replied, thinking that the Oracle of Delphi, the high priestess of the Temple of Apollo named Pythia, was sought after by everyone all over the Greek world for her ability to tell the future. "So, Apollo?"

"Does it fit?"

"Yes, it does," she said as the elevator arrived at the lobby. "After you."

Rachel got out of the elevator, and Violet followed. Soon, they were on the sidewalk, waiting for a gap in the traffic to walk across the street, and when they arrived on the other side, Violet held open the door for Rachel and let her go inside first. As the woman walked by, though, Violet happened to inhale her scent, and her eyes closed on instinct when she got hit with an immediate sense memory of the vision. Older Rachel had smelled mostly the same. This was getting more complicated by the second.

Rachel nodded toward a two-person booth in the corner, which worked just fine for Violet, who followed her and sat down across from her.

"This is the kind of place where they wait on you, right? If not, I can get us something at the bar."

"My treat, remember?" Violet said with a smile.

"I accused you of sleeping with your future boss to get a job… I think we've already established the fact that I owe you something."

"What can I get for you?" the waiter asked before they could decide who was paying for what.

"What's good here?" Rachel asked her.

"They have good martinis."

"Not much of a martini girl," Rachel said.

"What do you like?"

"I'm honestly not much of a drinker." Rachel laughed a little, and damn, it was cute.

"Then, why did we come for a drink?"

"You invited me."

Violet shook her head and said, "Wine?"

"Um… Okay."

"Red?"

"Sure."

Violet looked at the waiter then and said, "Can we get a bottle of the house merlot?"

"No problem," he replied and walked off.

"Merlot?" Rachel asked.

"You don't like it? "

"Remember me telling you that I wasn't invited out much?"

"Yeah."

"Well, part of that is because I can be pretty awkward. And I don't drink at home by myself, so I don't know what kind of wines I like or don't like. I've never had a martini. I've tried a few different kinds of beer, but I didn't like any of them, and after a shot of tequila once, I swore to never do that again. So… All this is to say: I don't actually know if I like merlot."

Violet smiled and said, "Then, I guess you're about to find out."

"Are you a merlot person?"

"I'm a casual wine drinker. I can tell the really bad stuff from the good, but if you put a really expensive bottle in front of me, I couldn't tell you why it was worth so much. I do drink martinis when I'm out for drinks, but one is my limit. And I don't really like beer, but I'll drink it if it's a decent import, with a little citrus kick, if I can get it. At home, I'll have a glass of wine occasionally, but not every night, and I prefer decaf coffee or my favorite tea most of the time."

"So, you're not a wine snob?"

"No," she said and shook her head.

"Good. Then, I won't feel so embarrassed if I try it and hate it."

"You can hate it or love it all you want. We can always order you something else if you don't like it," Violet replied.

"So, are you really going to name your dog Apollo?"

"Yeah, I think I am. Would you… maybe want to meet him sometime? You did name him, after all."

"Do you bring him to the office at all?"

"No, we don't allow pets in the office."

"Oh," Rachel said. "So, I'd come over to your place?"

"If you want to meet him. He's a funny little guy."

"Is this because I've basically confessed to being an awkward, pathetic person? You're taking pity on me?"

"What? No. I don't think you're awkward at all. And I'm not taking pity on you. You don't have to meet him if you don't want to."

"I do," Rachel said quickly. "I mean, I love dogs. We just couldn't have pets when I was little because my mom is deathly allergic, and I haven't gotten one yet as an adult because I didn't think I'd be home enough."

"Work?"

"Yeah, I tend to stay late a lot."

"That's why I got a dog, honestly," Violet shared. "I realized that I was staying late at the office all the time and didn't have much going on outside of work, so I thought I'd get a dog. And he's been great." She smiled. "He's protective of me, too. Barks at anything that moves. Loves on me when he thinks I need it, and I snuggle into him. He's a sweetheart, really."

"He gets that from his mom," Rachel said.

Violet knew immediately that she was blushing due to the warmth she felt rushing over her entire body, but she couldn't stop it and only hoped the dim lighting of the bar helped hide it.

"Thank you," she replied.

"Here's your merlot," the waiter said as he arrived.

The bottle was set down. The glasses were filled. Then, the waiter left them alone.

"So, I can meet him?" Rachel asked as she pulled the wine glass toward herself.

"Whenever you want," Violet said, meaning it. "This weekend, if you're free?"

"I am. I pretty much always am when I'm not working."

"Come over, then. We can have coffee, and you can watch him run for no reason. He has a rope toy he likes when I throw."

"Okay. That sounds nice," Rachel said.

"Want to try your wine now?"

Rachel lifted her glass and waited.

Violet lifted hers, too, and said, "To your new job and a new… friendship?"

"To a new friendship," Rachel repeated and left out the job part of the toast, which Violet thought interesting.

They clanked glasses and took a sip. Rachel seemed to like the wine, tilting her head at it and giving the glass a nod. Violet watched her and couldn't help but smile at her.