Mike shows up in her office unannounced. Nadine is busy, triaging her inbox with one hand, and in the small pockets of time it takes for the emails to load, marking up a five-hundred twenty-six page report with the other. Her eyes dart between the two. Occasionally she puts down the pen to pick up her fork and take bites of the salad in front of her. That's her dinner. It's been a hectic day.
She barely looks up when he enters. "Not really a good time, Mike," she says.
"I want to make you breakfast."
She pauses. Lifts her head, raises an eyebrow. She doesn't really have time for theatrics, but she makes a big show of checking her wristwatch anyway. "It's seven-thirty. In the evening," she says slowly, in case he needs the extra help.
"I want to make you dinner, and then breakfast," he clarifies. In case she didn't get the hint, he adds, "With all the exciting extracurricular activities in between."
"Thanks for the offer, but this isn't a good time," she says flatly.
"I didn't mean here and now. You exhibitionist. All these glass walls don't really do it for me."
"Don't be inappropriate."
"Come on," he needles, determined not to be put off. "Let me make you dinner. Or buy you dinner. That rabbit food in front of you definitely doesn't count as a meal."
A forkful of lettuce hovers in the air in front of her open mouth as she looks up at him.
"And then breakfast," he adds again, sounding hopeful.
"Mike, it's been a long day and I really—"
"All the more reason to let me relax you." His grin is wide.
She puts her fork down. "You don't give up, do you?"
"My tenacity is a redeeming quality."
"That's debatable," she mutters. Nadine gives up on her salad, pushing it away so that she can re-focus on the brief in front of her. "I really don't have the time, Mike. I've got to get through this whole report tonight—"
"Don't you have interns for things like that?"
"It's above their clearance level."
"Do you want me to help?"
She smirks. "It's above your clearance level."
"Not possible."
"And yet." She shrugs, eyes dancing, and returns her focus to the report.
He sighs dramatically. "You're killing me, Nadine."
"You just caught me at a bad time," she says, not unkindly. "It's been hectic around here."
He nods. "No, I get it," he says, and doesn't sound cut up about it. He raps his knuckles against the doorframe, turning to go. "I'll leave you to it."
"Mike."
He stops. "Yeah?"
"Come back tomorrow and ask me again."
"Really?"
"I'll have time tomorrow. For dinner." The corner of her mouth lifts in a half-smile. "And breakfast."