“Hah! I told you, didn’t I? That fool has a weakness for anything in a skirt. Show him a little bit of skin and he’ll lose control of his brain cells.”

Melitta laughed as she checked herself in the mirror, nodding in satisfaction at the grey long-sleeved bodycon she had picked out for dinner with Morton. True to form, he had called the next day, quite excited about setting up the date with her. They had agreed on Thursday.

Thursday evening had arrived, and she was talking to Silvius on the phone while getting ready.

“You weren’t lying, sir. One look at my legs and the man was sold out,” she snickered. “This is probably going to be one of the easiest quests if he continues down this path. It’s always the ones with zero sexual discipline that are so easy to lure in.”

“Hmm. I can imagine that. No discipline in that area of life will always send you crashing down before you know it. Wouldn’t be surprised if he starts making attempts to sleep with you, to be honest. He’s that much of a dog.”

Melitta shook her head scornfully. “That’ll be a quest he’ll fail miserably if he attempts. I never sleep with targets or clients. Rule number one in my book.”

“I see. You don’t mix business with pleasure, eh?”

“Negative. I’m naturally a total sucker for any man who finds his way in between these legs. There’s no way I’m taking you down successfully if you’re taking me down in the bedroom and doing it damn well. So that’s a straight no-no for me.”

“Interesting. I like that, to be honest. Shows you’re a principled and professional agent. Well, all the best in this ‘date’. I hope he wines and dines you out of your mind.”

Melitta smirked. “Your sarcasm is nicely hidden, Mr. Rivers. Nicely hidden. But I still caught it.”

Silvius laughed. “You got me, woman. Let me leave you to it. Later.”

Melitta hung up, checked herself in the mirror one last time, then checked her phone for the address.

“Alright, let’s get moving!” she declared to herself, grabbing her purse and heading out the door.

***

“Well, damn! This is the definition of upscale!” she commented to herself as she got out of the taxi and stood in front of an architectural masterclass of a mansion. Morton sure had one beast of a residence.

The entrance had tall, wrought-iron gates, flanked by security personnel who looked like trained professionals. She watched the personnel, straight-faced, and smirked to herself. Thank goodness I’m here to wine and dine, coz kicking these dudes’ asses? Might be a stretch for me.

She walked over to the gate and flashed them a sweet smile. “Hi! My name is Amarita Barker. Morton invited me over for dinner,” she effortlessly rattled off to them.

They looked at each other and nodded. “Give us a second,” one of them intoned, before picking up his walkie-talkie and giving info of her arrival.

A few moments later, they nodded and opened the gate. She walked through, admiring the well-manicured lawn and meticulously landscaped gardens before arriving at the front door and knocking.

The door opened and there stood Morton, clad in a simple tropical T-shirt and shorts. An excited  smile was on his face.

“Well, hello there, beautiful,” he cheerily saluted her. “So delighted you could make it.”

“Hello, Morton. I’m glad I could make it too. Never been one to reject a gentleman’s invitation.”

He smiled as he let her in. “I hope you like Italian; it’s my specialty tonight,” he said, guiding her to the dining area.

“Ooooooh, Italian food. Amarita likey!” she joked. The aroma of simmering sauces confirmed his claim; she was pretty familiar with those aromas, and loved them.

Morton laughed. “Looks like I hit the mark with this choice of food.”

Melitta nodded as he pulled out a chair for her to sit on. “Once chicken piccata’s on the menu, you certainly did.”

“Oh, it’s the main course, actually.”

“Then you, Mr. Morton Gobbo, have hit a perfect bullseye.”

Morton laughed again. “Excellent! Well, brace yourself, then. Dinner is about to be served.”

***

Forty-five minutes on, and Melitta had to admit, the dinner had been delicious. Morton went all out, and it was impressive. Now they were done, and simply faced each other at the table.

“So, Amarita, tell me more about yourself. What’s your story?” he inquired, a subtle glint of curiosity in his eyes, a glass of wine in his hand.

Melitta took a deep breath. Time to share the cocktail of truths, half-truths and lies she had cooked up.

Well,” she started, “I come from a close-knit family in a small town. Plymholm, to be exact. My parents are both retired, and they live a peaceful life in the countryside. Daddy was a hardworking postman for 35 good years, and Mama worked as a housekeeper for some rich family. There were two of us, me and my older sister. Sadly, she passed away when she was sixteen and I was thirteen. Bad case of septic shock.”

Morton frowned. “Oh dear. I’m so sorry to hear that, Amarita. Condolences.”

Melitta nodded solemnly. That was one of the few truths in this story. At least, the family one was full of truths.

“Yeah, shittiest experience I’ve ever had in my life. Anyways, I initially wanted to delve into accountancy, but as I grew up and the world as we knew it advanced in technological stuff, I started to have a fascination with technology and how it shapes the world. That’s what led me to pursue a career in a field where I could make a difference.”

Continuing with her tale, she outlined how she had had her heart broken by the last three men she dated, worked in a cybersecurity firm and transitioned to a startup agency. Morton nodded through it all, thoroughly interested in all she had said.

“Well, that’s really interesting,” he commented as she ended. “I like the way you made your way up the ladder on your own, though. Reminds me of me. You know my story’s a little similar to yours…”

As the conversation continued, Morton shifted the spotlight to himself, launching into a bit of a monologue about his achievements, possessions, and his perception of the world. From his humble beginnings at one of the lowest-rated schools in Ruthington to self-learning the rudiments of construction and eventually landing a huge contract with a big company, he laid it all out before her, his tone increasingly self-centered, and the braggadocio evident in every word.

“I’ve always been at the top of my game, you know? Success is practically a part of my DNA,” he boasted, a confident smirk playing on his lips. “People admire me for my charm, my wit, and, of course, my impeccable taste.”

Mel, internally rolling her eyes at his arrogance, maintained a polite smile. She discreetly sipped her wine, wishing to high heavens he would end his self-appraising speech.

Morton continued, oblivious to her unspoken wish. “You know, it’s like I’ve got this charisma that just draws people in. It’s like a magnetic field of success, and I can’t blame them for being attracted to it. It’s just who I am. I’m that special. Who else in their thirties owns a mansion this big and a construction firm as successful as mine? With virtually no help from anyone? Not even my parents could help me. God bless their souls.”

Ugh, he’s his own cocksucker. Christ, he’s a bigger bum than I thought!

Aside from being sexually undisciplined, there was nothing else that ticked Melitta off more than arrogance, and the cocky self-centeredness that oozed from Morton’s every word was really grating on her nerves.

And of course, in all his self-exaltations, not one mention of Silvius was in there. Yep, he had definitely turned his back on his helper.

Feigning a smile, she nodded at his words. Inside, she couldn’t wait for this date to end. The food was great, no doubt, but this was super irritating.

Thankfully, that was about the last of his self-appraising words. He switched to finishing his wine and then rose from his seat with an air of self-satisfaction. “Amarita, I had a fantastic evening. I hope you did too,” he remarked proudly.

Melitta smiled graciously, masking any signs of weariness or irritation. “I did. Thank you, Morton. The dinner was lovely, and your cooking skills are impressive.”

His ego sufficiently stroked, Morton nodded. “I’m glad to hear that.”

She nodded, then rose as well. “I guess it’s time for me to get going. You know, work and all.”

“Oh, of course, of course. That’s very true.” He walked her to the door, eagerly keeping his eyes on her. As he opened it, he quickly made a request.

“You know, I was thinking, how about I give you a tour of my construction factory one of these days? It’s quite a sight, and I’d love for you to see the empire I’ve built so far.”

Melitta suppressed a sigh but nodded in agreement. Inasmuch as being around him had already gotten annoying, the mission was still at hand, and she needed to fully cement his trust in her.  “Sure, Morton. It’ll be interesting to see what you’ve accomplished so far.”

“Great! I’ll talk to you later so we set a date. I’ll let a driver meet you and bring you there. It’s a bit out of town, but I promise it’ll be worth the trip,” he declared, the gleam of anticipation in his eyes.

“Sounds wonderful. I’ll be waiting, then.”

“Absolutely.” As Morton opened the door wider for her, he couldn’t resist a parting comment. “I’m really enjoying getting to know you better. I’m pretty sure I’ll be unraveling the mystery of Amarita Barker real soon.”

Melitta chuckled, an eyebrow raised. “Getting very confident after two dates, huh?”

Morton laughed. “You know what they say. One step at a time. I’ve taken two steps, so I’m getting there.”

She shrugged. “Fair point there. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a step. Two steps out of one million plus steps done. You’re well on course.”

He laughed even more. “I see what you’re doing there, Amarita. But I’m not perturbed. I know what I want, and I’ll get it.”

She winked at him. “Good luck, then.”

“Oh, I’ll get there. Thanks for coming, and I’ll let you know when the tour can come on.”

“Awesome. I’ll be waiting for it. Thank you for the invitation and all. Goodnight.”

“Good night, beautiful.”

With that, she stepped out into the crisp night air. As the door closed behind her, Melitta took a deep breath, her mind buzzing with the intricacies of the operation while she walked to the gate. The road had been smooth so far, but this was where she needed to be careful. Sure, Morton looked like he had fallen hook, line and sinker, but he could also well be playing the game. She needed to be very wise in her dealings and movements if this was going to be successful.

As she waited for her Uber to arrive, she took out her phone. A message awaited her.

How did it go?

A smirk on her face, she opened it up and typed in the response.

A for food (it was great! 🤌🏾🤌🏾 )

F for attitude (he’s an ass 🤮🤮)

It certainly doesn’t look like our dear agent has much tolerance for this dude. Can’t blame her, though; cockiness will always be a put-off…