I was going to post another snapshot of Evensong, but I have so many partial stories saved on Scrivener that I decided they should get some airing out.
For today’s WIPpet, I have a piece from a project tentatively titled Minstrel’s Tale, which is about a skilled thief named Fiona (nicknamed Fifi by her family and no one else. Ever.) who steals first edition novels as a hobby. She just finished a successful mission and arrived back at her car to find her ex-lover, Michael, waiting for her.
*pan forward into scene*
“I take it your trip went well?” he asked, bouncing the satchel on his knee.
Fiona resisted the urge to snatch it back into safety. “A safe bet. First edition Hardy is now out of the abusive ownership of the Burkes and I can sleep well tonight.”
Michael shifted in his seat so he leaned towards her, close enough that she could smell the mint on his breath. “You know I could make sure you sleep extra well tonight.” The huskiness in his voice turned Fiona’s legs to butter.
“You keep on that dream, Michael, and maybe one day … nope, there’s no kind way to finish that thought.”
“Try,” he encouraged, his right hand now on her thigh, creeping upwards.
“I was going to say ‘and maybe one day a severe case of chlamydia will make it impossible for you to bother me anymore’, but I wondered if it was too mean.”
Michael made a show of removing his hand from her leg and sliding away from her.
“Ah, Fi, why do you fight it? You know we have something good.”
“Had, Michael. The word here is ‘had’. If there was a past tense of ‘had’, then we would be that. It was ten years ago.”
“Five, if I remember correctly,” he said.
“It was a bad month,” Fiona retorted, but the memories of that lapse in judgment five years ago made her palms sweat. Ten years ago, they’d been a couple, and one of the most watched in the underside of Boston. She’d be on his arm in some of the sketchiest places with some of the shadiest company, and no one who was anyone could deny they were an attractive pair. And more volatile than a powder keg.