The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

As the quartet happily indulged in a cozy fondue dinner, Leopold brought over the documents from headquarters.

Peering through the empty doorway, Leopold hesitated, unsure whether to enter.

He texted Anna: [Where are you guys?]

Anna, who had not quite finished chewing her lamb, hit the voice message button, “On a mission, gotta stick to Ms. Vivienne like glue.”

Vivienne said, “Just drop the stuff off, and don’t be a nuisance. You mess up the deal, I’ll break your legs.”

Percival added his own threat, “I’ll dislocate your arm.”

Thomas kept it simple, “Good luck, man!”

Listening to the sounds of bubbling fondue, fizzing sodas, and the stubborn mastication of lamb, Leopold was in disbelief.

Was this really a mission?

This was sheer torture!

But he had no choice; he had to deliver the documents quickly.

Griffin had already sent a reminder in the Little Bombs group chat – a special group Vivienne had created for convenience.

With no other option, Leopold donned a mask and hat, covering himself completely, and entered Griffin’s home.

The evening was setting in, and Griffin had only a desk lamp on, leaving the main lights off.

Three different-colored pens lay strewn across documents, each marking various annotations.

Leopold cleared his throat gently, but Griffin showed no reaction.

He moved closer and tapped Griffin’s head with the documents, “Hey, the papers…”

“Ah!”

Bam!

as he staggered backward and

more accurately, when he could finally open his left eye again, all the lights in Griffin’s place were

seeing Leopold awake, she nonchalantly remarked, “Are you nuts? Sneaking

right eye. “You’re the one who’s nuts! Didn’t you say you didn’t want to see me?

burst out laughing. “Since when did you start following orders so

energy to argue. I’ve delivered your stuff; I’m out

pouring rain,

dumbfounded, “Wait, what? Why would they

were blocking traffic,” Griffin said as if it were the most obvious thing in the

fists, grinding his teeth, “Couldn’t you, just maybe, help me out and move the car into

my garage isn’t for

finally settling

her work as if he

to rumble. He tapped

back, Griffin gestured toward the fridge,

nothing but instant noodles and pre-made sandwiches inside, alongside cans of soda –

could not help but ask, “Is this what

affirmation, “Just me here, so I

some reason, Leopold felt a sudden

the first time, he noticed Griffin seemed much thinner

be on a diet like

mumbling, “For a young woman, you could take better care of yourself. Why not keep some veggies or some meat

turned to find Griffin

shadow stretched out on the floor under the light, falling across

fridge into Griffin’s noodle cup, then placed

wolfing

stopped, and Griffin was still engrossed in her research. Bored out of his mind, Leopold

asleep on the carpet, leaning against the couch, blue pen still clutched in hand, the other two pens precariously perched

instant noodles were

“You’re working too

eye less swollen, he approached and squatted beside her, staring at her with unknown thoughts in his mind. Suddenly, Griffin’s head dropped, and Leopold caught it as

a little flushed, and so

of silence, he lifted her into a

untouched instant noodles, he tossed it aside, grabbed Griffin’s car keys, and