Table of Contents I'm not sure how part 4 became broken up into two parts. It must have seemed the thing to do at the time. Well, anyway, here's the second half of the scene. Since it's such a short part, I promise I'll post the next part in just a few days.
Previously, on Part 4:
The arrival of their food interrupted her acerbic reply.
She paused, waiting for his response to the fiery food. Since he hadn’t been used to Thai cuisine she had made a few suggestions. She had made sure that ‘Mr. Ham-and-Cheese-on-Rye’ had ordered one of the spiciest dishes on the menu. He took a bite. She counted three for the full flavor to permeate his senses. She had expected him to change colors, at the very least, but she was hoping for a good show of spitting and puffing.
Instead, he merely raised an eyebrow.
“Interesting,” was his mild-mannered reply. “It has more flavor than I expected, not just spice.” His smile reached to his eyes. “I like it. Thanks for bringing me here, Lois.”
And now, Part 5:
She groaned inside. He made it sound like it was her idea.
The rest of the interview was a rather straightforward question and answer. He was charmed, she was coolly compliant. She tried not to reveal too much, but she had to admit that he had a warm interviewing style that did seem to allow him to know more of her life’s story than she had planned to reveal.
It was a little later than she had planned as they headed back to work, although she was unconcerned since she was obviously out on Planet business. She walked slower than usual, weighed down with an overly satiated feeling and thoughts which wandered accordingly.
His voice interrupted her thoughts, “So what are your plans while you’re here?”
“I’m sorry; did I miss this part of the interview?”
His smile matched an irritating twinkling in his eye, as he suggested, “Classes start in a few days. Tonight would be a good night if you would like me to show you some of the sights around town.”
“Does that line usually work for you?” she inquired, in the same tone of voice she used when she nailed a corrupt government worker to the wall.
“Excuse me?” He stopped walking. She pivoted to face him, one hand on her hip.
“Do the girls usually fawn at your feet when you say that? Do they throw you their bras and room keys?”
His tone was a little too patronizing for her preference, “I didn’t invite the girls. I invited you: the fascinating and delightful Lois Lane. And I didn’t ask for your bra or your room key, I asked for your company. I can show you the best libraries in Metropolis, if that’s what you’d like. But if you will honor me with your presence, I would love to spend a little time with you and show you around—make you feel at home.”
She barely paused before blowing him off, in a big-sister kind of way. “Look, I’ve heard lines from men all around the world. Your’s isn’t bad, but it’s nothing to write home about, you understand. I’ve turned down men from every habited continent on Earth in at least a dozen languages, so save yourself a little time, huh? I’m just not interested.”
He resumed walking, rather briskly. She joined him in his walk.
“Got it. Seen all the scumbags in all the third-world countries, and sworn off men, both foreign and domestic. I can understand that. You’ve met more than your fair share of jerks and decided you really don’t want to have your heart broken at every port. Makes sense, really… Well, it used to make sense when you were traveling all the time. What did you say, it was? Seventeen countries in twelve years? You traveled much too frequently to make any real friends, let alone establish a meaningful relationship. So the no-dating policy was probably pretty good protection. I knew you were a smart one, Lois.”
He stopped walking abruptly, and she stumbled a little as she transitioned.
“But it really doesn’t work as well here, does it? You plan on spending four years at this college, probably longer if you go as far at The Planet as I expect. That’s plenty of time to establish some friendships, don’t you think? And while I’m not suggesting that the two of us put down roots together and live happily ever after, I don’t think a little tour or a little dinner will do either of us any harm.”
He opened the door for her and then followed her into The Planet’s lobby.
“You think that I…” she sputtered before letting out an angry gush of air. “I’m not taking the regular try-it-out, see-if-you-like-it coarse-load. I’m taking eighteen hours this semester. With one hour of study for every hour in class, that’s thirty-six hours a
week. The recommended hour and a half of study for every hour in class makes forty-five hours a week. I’m working thirty-six hours a week at The Daily Planet, the minimum required for benefits. That’s seventy-two to eighty-one hours a week. Add in my commute time, time for meals and bathing and maybe even four to six hours a night of sleep, and I totally don’t have time for friendships and tours and dinner and all that ‘When Harry Met Sally’ stuff you have planned for us. And whether or not you approve, it works for me. Understand?”
“Got it. You need a little time to work your way into friendship. Understood.”
She frowned at him in a way that made most men shrink away. He matched her gaze with a pleasant smile, reaching past her to summon the elevator.
“And as for tonight,” she continued. “As they say in Spanish, ‘No.’ It’s almost the same in French, although they clip it a bit more and speak through their nose, ‘Non.’ You understand that?”
“Perfectly clear, mademoiselle.”
