Berries and Greed

“Oh, really good,” I said eagerly. “I’m enjoying it.”

Which reminded me, I wanted to talk to Greid about contributing to the bills when I got home with our coffee.

“It’s the place across the street, right?”

“Yeah. Abyss.”

Corva pulled her phone back out when it vibrated, frowning at it. “I admit I haven’t checked out the nightlife around here yet,” she said absently, bright yellow painted claws tapping at her screen. “Still traipsing all the way across the city to meet friends at my old haunts. I just don’t think I’d survive if I didn’t eat at least once a week at Le Champignon Noir. Have you been?”

“Uh, no.”

She stuffed her phone back in her bag and clasped my arm. “Oh, you must. Their black truffle and dark chocolate parfait with liquorice foam is to die for.”

That… didn’t sound all that great, but I smiled politely. Note to self: make sure Greid knows not to book somewhere as fancy as Le Champignon Noir for our date. I could already tell it would be hellishly expensive, especially if it was Corva’s favourite restaurant.

“Well, maybe you could invite some of your friends to Abyss one evening,” I offered. “It’s really nice in there. Or brunch,” I added. “We do brunch.”

She seemed like the brunching type.

“I think I will.” She gave me a big smile, deep red-painted lips revealing sharp white teeth. “And you must join us! If you’re not working, that is. No, wait, you won’t want to drink where you work. Don’t shit where you eat, eh? Text me one night when you’re not working and we’ll go to a different bar for a few drinks. I’ll invite some of my girlfriends. They’ll love you.”

“Will they?” I asked nervously, suddenly jittery at the thought of being out with a group of sophisticated, worldly women.

“Of course they will, darling.” Corva nodded at the counter. “Your drinks are ready.”

“Oh.” I stuffed my phone in my coat pocket and reached for the cups.

“You’re always getting two drinks when I see you in here,” Corva said slyly. “Who’s the other one for?”

“Oh, um, my…” My fingers flexed around the cups. “Uh, this guy—We live together but… we’re, um…”

I didn’t really know how to explain what Greid and I were now. Dating? Friends who had recently admitted how ridiculously attracted we were to each other? A new couple who lived together but not in that way? Not in the long-term committed way. Not yet.

“We’re, um, we recently started… It’s new,” I finished awkwardly, feeling heat creep up my cheeks when Corva winked at me.

“Good for you, darling. Oh, here’s mine.” She grabbed a cup off the counter. “Ready?”

As we walked out of the coffee shop together, Corva’s phone started vibrating in her bag. Pulling it out, she made a disgusted sound. “God, this client is a total nightmare. Apparently imported Italian glassware isn’t good enough for his dinner party. I better take this and see what else he has a problem with.” She leaned down for another air kiss. “Text me soon to meet up, yes?”

“Yes, sure,” I said quickly, watching as she held the phone up to her ear and turned, gliding elegantly away, black heels with deadly points tapping over the concrete beneath the swishing hem of her long, stylish grey coat.

I grinned to myself as I turned and started heading home, taking a sip of my steaming black coffee. Excitement fizzed in my gut, and I looked around as I walked down the street to see what other bars Corva and I could go to. She was right—I’d feel a little awkward sitting and relaxing with a drink in Abyss while the people I worked with served us.

There was one that looked just as swanky as Abyss, the trim around the doors and windows a deep burgundy, the sign proclaiming it Carnelians. I crossed the street to get a better look, eyes widening with awe when I saw the huge chandelier above the circular mirrored bar, dripping with blood-red crystals. There was a discreet, framed drinks menu next to the door, in parchment paper designed to look old with elegant cursive listing a huge range of wines. Many of them were nightberry varieties and extortionately priced, but there were a few cheaper options and some spirits. Maybe we could go here. I was pretty sure Corva would like it.

I started to turn to keep heading home, but the store next door caught my eye. The window displays were a mishmash of items, making it hard to tell what they actually sold. Tall demiurgus mannequins towered over the human ones, all of them wearing clothes that looked a little dated. A vintage typewriter sat on a somewhat battered side table next to a vase of dried flowers, a polaroid camera and some hideous china knickknacks.