"Where are you taking me?" I asked the driver, worried that I would be whisked away to Baltimore again. That would make for a long evening, even if the appointment was short, and I had class in the morning.
"Mr. Thorne has made arrangements in the District," the chauffeur said.
Vague but good enough, I supposed. I set my phone on silent and settled back against the seat to watch the lights of the city through the window, a yellow blur in the cold outside the car's heated cocoon, each block running into the next in an endless repetition of cement, asphalt, and brick.
I didn't realize that I had fallen asleep until the sound of my car door opening and the sudden breath of cold air roused me. I blinked a few times and surreptitiously wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth.
"We've arrived, Ms. Shaw," the chauffeur said helpfully.
"Where am I?" I ducked out of the car and stood on the sidewalk in front of a nondescript beige rowhouse, stretching my stiff muscles.
"The restaurant," the chauffeur said patiently. "Mr. Thorne is waiting for you."
I looked up, and I saw the sign: Komi. I swallowed. Even I had heard of Komi. One meal cost about the same as two weeks of dorm food. It was the current food mecca of the capital, impossible to score reservations unless you called at noon exactly one month ahead.
The chauffeur was already pulling away, so I had no choice but to mount the iron steps to the front door. I was desperately grateful that I'd decided to dress up. If I'd arrived in denim and sneakers, I would have died of humiliation right there and spared the cancer the trouble of killing me.
I swung open the door and stepped inside to be greeted by a black-clad host.
"You must be Ms. Shaw," he said, relieving me of my jacket. "This way, please."
I stepped forward after the host, my head still muddled with sleep and disbelief, not quite certain that I could trust any of this to be real. The narrow dining room was dim and intimate, with twelve tables that I counted as we passed.
There was a movement in the shadows of the farthest corner, and I raised my eyes as the host led me onward, knowing who it was even before I saw him-feeling him, somehow, in the darkness. And there he was, standing, watching me with his hungry eyes, wearing another impeccable three-piece suit and a black silk tie.
Mr. Thorne.