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!

before Leopold’s eyes as he staggered backward and collapsed to

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

“Are you nuts? Sneaking up behind people

the one who’s nuts! Didn’t you say you didn’t want to see me? How else

nearly burst out laughing. “Since when did you start following

don’t have the energy to argue. I’ve delivered your stuff; I’m out

outside, “It’s pouring rain, and the cops

dumbfounded, “Wait, what? Why would they tow

traffic,” Griffin said as if it were the most

maybe, help me out and move the car into

my garage isn’t for storing

was speechless, finally settling on

her work as if he was

rumble. He tapped the

Griffin gestured toward the fridge,

pre-made sandwiches inside, alongside cans of soda – the classic bachelor’s

not help but ask, “Is this

affirmation, “Just me here, so I

Leopold felt a sudden

the first time, he noticed Griffin seemed much

would be on

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

find Griffin

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

his lips and silently added the only sausage left from the fridge into Griffin’s noodle cup, then placed

on the couch, wolfing

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

against the couch, blue pen still clutched in hand, the other two pens precariously perched in

noodles were

sighed. “You’re

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

face was a little flushed, and so was his

few minutes of silence, he lifted her into a more comfortable position

untouched instant noodles, he tossed