It was when Scarlett’s eyes first met Phillipe’s at Sacramento Book Fair, who desperately was riffling through the chrome decrepit pages of the Grisham book. While by the time, Phillipe kept himself up being around to search for some Rumi poetry.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry for that”, Phillipe said, contritely, as her book tumbled on the floor. 

“No, it is okay. I don’t mind at all”, Scarlett said as Phillipe picked her book up.

“Grisham. So I see you like thrill”, his eyes smirked, it so seemed.

“Mystery, the gentleman, is a primary engagement.”

“I adore poesy. Not least because you savor upon it with your mind.”

“I, somewhere only grew up reading puzzles. I don’t know, but I only have good tastes for ’em.”

“Whatever it is beautiful lady, would you love accompanying me to the Faché club and maybe we could discuss some more books?”, Phillipe sounded eager.

“Sharp at eight, tonight at the rendezvous?”, she responded. “Marked ma’am.”

Sacramento, the capital of the US state of California is where she once loved to drive through the brume, discovering an appetite for searching new corners of the city. The city was festooned with flashbulbs as the mob gazed at her Estonian outfits.

“Hello, Madame”, Phillipe bowed down and kissed her hand leading her into the club.

“Two Tequila Cabeza for?”

“$33”, the sommelier glanced at the two of us.

“I don’t drink”, appealed Scarlett and drank a peg looking straight into Phillipe’s eyes. “Ironical”, he responded gulping a peg of the liquor, “and where are you from, anyway?”

“Estonia. I’m from Estonia. Since ten years I’ve had my residential address pinned up there. But, lately, for my business protocol to set up, I am here.”

“What kind of business?”

“Merchandising”, there was a fall in her voice.

“Nice. Then you must not know much about this place?”, he asked.

“Neh, totally because this city calls me but I seldom miss it.”

“Well, I can drive you through different places, if only it pleases you?”

Scarlett stood up. “We must proceed then.”

Driving her across the city, he spelled to her the names of numerous hotels and pubs. Cinema too.

“I anticipate, from however the gazes that are straight at me is because I am from the European region”, she said, fluently honest.

Phillipe had been known around California, for he was one of the ranked FBI officers. But Scarlett had never let him know, however, had the situation been, how admiring he must have been all over. She, instead, focused often on her business and contouring newspapers that read headlines of his names.

March 19, 1993.

The sky looked ravishingly archaic like rose gold petals of the goddess’s lips spill and dance upon the neck.

“I’ve fallen in love with you, Scarlett. I know, love is just some word in the heaven that awaits for its own meaning by the beholder. But the new unlikely form that I’ve felt in myself for the past months, I know, there’s something that is though incoherent but practical and that it is love. I love you, Scarlett, I do. Would you let your hands perfectly fit in mine?”

Scarlett’s cheeks turned stale red, and her askew smile gave in away.