Spying in Chocolate
By SarahsSupplyCloset
Author's Note: Thanks. Happy weekend!
Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck and I'm not making money.
Ellie and Devon were both home when he unlocked the door and walked into the apartment.
They looked up from their card game and smiled at him.
"Hey!" Awesome exclaimed. "There's our Casanova!"
Rolling his eyes, Chuck walked past them into the kitchen, the headache already dimming.
"Getting ready for that date, huh?"
"Nope!" Chuck responded to his sister's boyfriend, grabbing a glass out of the cupboard and filling it with water, downing half of it in a few gulps. He made to leave them behind altogether, wanting to lock himself in the bathroom to take a long, hot shower where he could think some more about the events of the last hour.
"Whoa, whoa. Hold on." But there was Ellie, her cards still in her hand, fanned out, as she charged into his view, blocking him from heading down the hallway to his room. "What do you mean nope?"
He sighed and rolled his eyes. "There's no dinner tonight. No date. Shit happens." He shrugged.
"What?!"
"Oh shit, did she cancel on ya, bro? Did she not show up, or…?" Awesome narrowed his eyes then as he came around the table to join them. "Wait, no, because you were at her shop. Of course she showed up to her own shop. I'm confused."
"We just had to raincheck. That's all. It's still gonna happen, just not tonight."
"Well, why not?" Ellie asked, concerned. "Is Sarah sick or something?"
"No, Mama Bear. She is not." Ellie glared at him for that and he winced. "Sorry. I'm just…kind of disappointed. I don't mean to be sarcastic. She isn't sick. Some…teenagers I think, probably, most likely, threw a wrench through the front window of the shop while we were scrubbing down the kitchen floors. A big ol' rusty wrench."
"What?!" they both exclaimed.
"Oh my God! Why?" Ellie asked.
He'd already made the decision not to say anything about the weird flashing thing with the images. His sister would rush him to the ER and force her peers at the hospital to run an MRI on him immediately.
"I dunno. Probably just little dickheads who saw a papered up window on what looks like an abandoned shop and were feeling like wrecking shit."
"Fuckin' twerps!" his sister said, anger in her face. "Who does that? This isn't the 1950s! Don't they have video games or, like…TikTok or something?"
"Guess that's not enough for 'em. They need to break people's windows, too."
Awesome shook his head. "That's so shitty. Is she okay? I mean, no one got hurt right?"
"No one got hurt," he reassured the doctor. "We were in the kitchen and it was through the front window. But glass was everywhere." He didn't know why, but he decided not to tell them about the piece of paper or his worries there. Maybe it was to grant her the privacy she apparently wanted where that was concerned.
"Ugh God, that poor girl. She has to go through all this shit just for trying to open her own business."
He sighed in annoyance. "I know."
Ellie patted him on the chest. "Well, be sure to tell her we're sorry. Little punks. You guys covered up the broken window before you left, right? Broken windows are just, like, magnets for squatters and critters and stuff like that."
"Uh, that's what she plans to do, yeah."
And then his sister raised both of her eyebrows and he knew he was in trouble. "Hold on, that's what she PLANS to do? As in, you didn't HELP HER?"
Rolling his eyes, he felt his shoulders sag. "I helped her with most of the glass, but she, like…dismissed me. I think she was rattled and she…I don't know why, but she seemed like she wanted to be alone. I wanted to stay, and I offered to stay and help her. I planned to do that. But she seemed like she wanted me to go, and that was when she asked for the raincheck on dinner. I think she's too out of sorts for it. Which I get, I totally do, I'm just…bummed. For her mostly."
"Oh." Ellie looked downcast. "Poor girl. I hope she isn't trying to do all that herself."
"I tried to—"
"No, no. I know. You don't have to explain, Chuck." She squeezed his shoulder. "Best you give her space to deal with that stuff the way she needs to. I'm sorry about her window, and I'm sorry about your date."
"Yeah, bro. Me too."
Chuck smiled at them. "Thanks, guys. But I intend on cashing in that raincheck. I told her she can't escape me that easily. We work in the same shopping center technically."
"Good man." Devon pointed at him and winked, grinning that toothy grin.
"I need a shower after all that physical labor, though, so I'm just gonna do that."
Ellie let go of him, allowing him to refill his glass and slip past them as he saluted them with said glass.
He was able to escape into the shower and be with his thoughts moments later.
$...$
It always worked like this.
Ever since she turned old enough to separate herself from the notion that those road trips with her dad weren't the types of road trips normal families took, and discovered that her dad was actually making her an accomplice to his cons, Sarah found the man interrupting her life just when she was starting to rise, trying to lift herself out of the mire.
He'd done it when she moved to Seattle, somehow finding out where she'd ended up and getting her fired from the restaurant she'd been waitressing at. And when she'd actually found a good job at a seafood restaurant, one that put her in the kitchen, he'd gotten her kicked out of the apartment she shared with roommates, by said roommates. He'd eventually followed her to New Orleans where he'd wrecked a car it had taken her a lot of saving up to buy. It had nearly put her job in jeopardy because getting to work on time was a hell of a lot harder for her without a car.
She'd cut him off after the begging for money had become so toxic, it had torpedoed a potential relationship with someone who might've been good for her if she'd gotten a chance to try with him.
And now here she was, taking the biggest step of her life, opening up her own business, the chocolate shop she'd been dreaming of since she was a child, practically. And he was back again.
Sarah had been afraid that he would find her again somehow, and for the past few weeks, she had been worried that he had. She had that gut feeling, a sinking feeling, that he'd already caught up with her but she didn't put the pieces together to be absolutely sure of it yet. It had been his modus operandi. But maybe she was just reaching. Maybe she'd been scarred by his criminal behavior, and maybe she had trauma, paranoia.
Jack Burton—her father's name now as far as she knew—had indeed found her. And he wasn't the only one.
She looked down at the crumbled note, flicking a piece of glass off of it into the waste bin, before flattening it on the kitchen countertop again. The shop was empty and it had been for about 2 hours now, the sun finally setting and leaving her in the dark in her shop, only the newly installed overhead lights in the kitchen on in the whole place.
What in the fuck had he done?
God, he'd done so much in the past, so much to harm her, her mom, himself, all three of them, splintering their relationships from one another. His own mother, her grandmother, had practically disowned him for the shit he'd pulled with Sarah, and as hard as she'd tried to be a reliable adult in Sarah's life, her grandma had died without that severed bond between her and her son being mended.
But this time, he'd gone too far.
How in the hell did these guys know about her chocolate shop, how did they know about her in general?
Did Jack go around announcing to his criminal pals who his daughter was and what she was doing and where she'd moved?
The words were scrawled hurriedly but neatly enough for her to read them.
Times up Burt. No more excuses. No more hiding. Only option left is to run.
-boys in brown
It was a warning she knew he'd gotten before. Because he'd told her, which was how she'd managed to scrounge up $1000 for him 2 years ago when he found her and begged her for help. He didn't pay back loans, and he got loans from the worst people. And that meant that the worst people came after him.
This was probably just more of the same.
Except that it wasn't.
Because instead of Jack Burton—or Burt apparently—getting the warning this time, his innocent daughter had received it. Which meant he'd somehow informed these criminals, potentially violent criminals, of where his own flesh and blood, his daughter, was starting a business in the greater LA area.
He'd put her in danger. He'd put her new venture in danger.
She was going to kill him this time.
But she was also terrified out of her mind.
Her dad's criminal bullshit had never extended to include her like this before. She'd never been pulled in like this before tonight.
And she knew enough to realize that if her dad had already disappeared, guys like these boys in brown or whatever would show up and take what they needed from her.
Chuck had been in the front, she'd heard the scratch and swish of him trying to sweep up the glass even as she'd read the note for the 1st time 2 hours ago. And that had been the only thing that had kept her from shoving everything on her desk onto the floor and screaming. It had taken her a bit to compose herself.
And once she had, she'd taken her phone out of her pocket and she'd called the number to her father's burner. It rang, and rang…and rang, and rang, and rang. Just like always. And when the automated answering message came up, and the beep sounded, she had to compose herself before she spoke. "Dad, you've put me in danger. I don't know how you did it, or what you did. I don't know who these guys are, or what you did to them, or what they're capable of. But I know you found me, and they might not be able to find you to get whatever it is you owe them back, but they have found ME. I know this because a wrench was thrown through the window of my shop when I was there. And they attached a threatening note meant for you. If you wanna know what it said, you'd better call me the fuck back. I am not losing everything I've built for you," she'd hissed through her teeth. "You've finally pulled me into your shit, they know who I am, where I am, and they're going to come after me if they can't find you. I'm done taking it on the chin for ol' dad. I'm done with you. You'd better fix this. Now."
She'd let herself have a few minutes of deep breaths after hanging up. She didn't even know if he'd trashed the burner, if it was a connected number, if he'd ever even get the message, but she'd had to leave it.
And because of this shit, the thing she'd been wanting, thinking about, since that first day she'd walked into the Buy More and had a sweet nerd fix her phone, was being postponed. God, she couldn't even have a date, not even one single date, with an exceptional man, a really, really good friend. She wanted more than that. And she'd been so close to it.
But she'd sent Chuck away tonight, and while he hadn't been angry, while his understanding had seemed sincere, and while he seemed to want to make it clear that he had every intention of cashing in on that raincheck, she could see that he was disappointed.
She could relate.
The disappointment had been crushing, watching him leave. She'd peeked through the hole in the window and paper as he'd climbed into his car and drove away. But there was no way she could get through the night without breaking, and she didn't want him to be there when she did. On their first date? Fuck, that'd be mortifying.
Let him think the wrench through the window had set her off course and she needed to be alone to right herself.
But she didn't want him to know her dad was a conman, a criminal, who'd now officially dragged her into his shit. She had a target on her chocolate shop now, on HER.
Chuck would run in the other direction. If she could just get the target off of her and back onto her dad, and then he could just get the hell out of her life for good maybe, then she could actually go on a date with this incredible freaking guy and maybe her life could get back onto some kind of track.
She could still be here, in her shop, with Chuck right now, working. After cleaning the floors, she'd wanted to start in the office. Maybe they'd be in the office now, tidying things up, cleaning, putting things away. She might tell him her ideas about the decor and he'd just watch her with that softness he always carried with him, that he draped over her like the most comfortable weighted blanket ever made.
Sarah hated how badly she wanted him here now.
The worst of the breakdown had passed now. And she'd waffled between taking the wrench and the note to the police and telling them everything, and just staying in her shop, giving her dad the chance to take care of it himself. In spite of how bad of a father he was, the idea of being the person who ended up getting him tossed in prison again, perhaps for a long stint this time, made her sick.
She'd nearly called her mom, but Emma Walker would end up jumping in her car and driving straight here to get herself caught up in Jack's shit too. She'd probably murder Jack, come to think of it, and end up in prison for that. And Sarah would be all alone, what with her criminal parents.
Not to mention, she'd probably burst into tears the second she heard her mom's voice.
Because she was scared. And alone.
She'd wanted to keep Chuck near her, if only as a distraction. But she also knew he'd be so much more than that. He was a comfort to her. Such a deep comfort. She just needed to be alone this time, though. To get everything out of her system.
And she didn't want that first date to be haunted by the dark cloud of her own impending doom. It would be. She'd look over her shoulder the entire date, wondering if some mafia looking assholes in brown zoot suits would storm into the restaurant and ratatatatatatat at her. Killing not just her but Chuck too.
Well, alone or not, she hadn't called anyone. And instead, she would get off of her ass and keep her mind busy, turning her phone ringer up all the way so that she could hear if her dad called her back.
Trying to beat back the fear that had her heart in a vise grip.
$...$
Chuck had been out of the shower for a while now, sitting on the end of his bed, staring at his TV which he had yet to actually turn on, the controller sitting on his lap. There was an entire half of the map he had yet to explore in the game he'd borrowed from Skip. But he couldn't even focus enough to get the TV on, let alone the game system…let alone actually playing a game that requires at least some brain participation.
Things were just clicking away in his brain in a really bad way and he couldn't make it stop. He was spiraling, thinking about all of the things Sarah had told him over the past month or so, the things he'd stored away in his brain because he couldn't stop voraciously consuming and hoarding every little bit about herself she felt comfortable enough to tell him.
She'd moved to Los Angeles a few months back from Washington, D.C. she'd said. But it had been quick, a sudden thing. A fresh start away from her life she'd had there.
But what if there was more to it?
Someone had thrown a wrench through her window with a note. She'd hidden the note from him, she'd taken it away, and when she'd come back 20 minutes later, she'd looked angry and even more rattled, like she'd seen a ghost and it had pissed her off. It had to do with that note and whatever was written on it.
She'd left D.C. quickly, it seemed like. And it hadn't occurred to him that she'd maybe run away from something, from someone. But perhaps she had, and now they'd caught up with her. What had she been running from? Who?
Was Sarah Walker even her real name?
Had she been part of a mafia operation, something had gone south, and she'd had to run, leave it all behind to move across the country, find a new name? Maybe she'd flipped on her mafia family, telling the FBI everything, and now she was in a witness protection program.
But she'd left D.C., which meant it could be some sort of political intrigue. A scandal. Was an elected official involved? Was she some D.C. journalist who'd broken a massive scandal story that involved a higher up elected official, his name was dragged through the mud, his criminal enterprise dashed, and now she had to go into a witness protection program because the foreign entities he was tied up with would go after her for fucking up their plans?
Was she a criminal of some sort?
Was she running from criminals?
Maybe it was like Some Like it Hot, which Ellie had made him watch 4 million times since they were kids, not that he complained that much about it. Maybe she'd witnessed mafia dudes take down other mafia dudes and they were after her to kill the only person who could pin the crime on them. Did she play tenor sax? Standup bass?
He was losing his mind sitting here coming up with all of the craziest scenarios he could. It went so far as having something to do with Area 51 at the point where he heard the door to his bedroom open.
"…Chuck?"
Chuck jumped and turned to glare at his sister. "Knock first maybe? What if I was in here buck naked?"
"I did knock, you just ignored it," she said, giving him a grossed out face. "Anyway, that's why your door has a lock, doofus."
"Oh. You knocked?" He really hadn't heard it, imagining Sarah as a scientist dissecting an extraterrestrial's dead body. "Sorry. I'm a little up in my head."
She sighed and nodded. "Can I come in?" He nodded and she came in, shutting the door behind her and walking over, slumping down to sit next to him. She poked the controller he held in one hand. "I didn't know you could play video games with the TV off."
"Oh. Hah. Yeah. You can't. I was going to turn it on and finish this map, but I can't concentrate." He set the controller to the side.
"Sarah?"
He sighed heavily. "Yeah."
"I'm so sorry about the date, Chuck." She squeezed his shoulder.
"Hey, that's okay. It's gonna happen, just not tonight."
"Is she okay?" He turned to look at Ellie. She worried her lip between her teeth. "I mean, after the whole wrench thing. That would scare me shitless."
"Oh. Yeah, I…I think. I don't really know. I didn't get much of a chance to talk to her about it. She went off with her phone and I think made a call. And then she came back and asked if we could postpone and was super nice about asking me to give her alone time. She felt bad, I could tell."
"Who'd she call, the police?"
"She didn't seem to want to call the police. I don't know why. Maybe 'cuz they were just teenagers."
"Well, at least a report helps with insurance." He shrugged and his sister hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I hope she's okay. She seems like a really nice person. I like her."
Chuck smiled. "I do, too."
"You'd better keep at it, brother. If you really do like her." She gave him a long look and he looked back in question. "I was just thinking…you know, she's new to LA, new to the area, enough that she had to rely on us to help her out with getting her shop ready for business. What I mean by that is she doesn't have anyone here. Nobody is…looking out for her."
"She's very capable of looking out for herself, El."
"Oh, that much is very clear. But sometimes even those of us who are very capable of taking care of ourselves, men women and everyone else, need to still feel like we aren't alone. If I was in some new city and was trying to open a business and someone threw a wrench through my window, I'd be super shaken up, scared even. And I could handle it myself, but having someone there to show they care? Check up on me? That'd make a big difference."
Chuck just smiled at her knowingly. "Are you telling me to check on her even though she seemed like she wanted to be alone?"
"You don't have to go show up at her apartment like a stalker. Just something to let her know you're thinking about her and care about what happens to her." She shook her head. "That poor girl. She probably thinks she had to cancel the date and that you're pissed at her now or something."
"I did everything I could to make sure she knows that I'm not pissed!" he argued. "And I basically told her she's stuck with me, that I intend to keep that date."
"Good, good. I'm not telling you what to do, Chuck. Or how to handle this. I only met her yesterday, but I'm still worried about her after hearing about what happened." Ellie shook her head. "Even if it was rebellious teens attempting to have fun or whatever, it's still scary. A reminder of how tenuous all of this is. Life. You know?"
"Deep, Ellie."
"Oh shut up," she giggled.
For a moment, he was close to just telling Ellie about the note attached to the wrench, the one Sarah had hidden from him, and taken away to read in private.
But he didn't. That wasn't his secret to tell, as much as he wanted to get Ellie's input on whether or not he should feel nervous about it. For Sarah, not for himself.
"You're worried about her," Ellie finally said.
And he sighed and nodded, the corner of his mouth turning up at how completely transparent he was to his sister.
"So tell her that." He sent her a look and she made a face. "I know, I know. I'm also an independent free spirit badass woman, though, and I can tell you that giving one of us TOO much space is almost as bad as smothering us."
"Women are confusing. I'm not sure she's that conf—" He stopped. "Nah, she's definitely an incredibly hot mystery. She IS confusing. And I'm such a dope because that's somehow makes me like her even more."
"Yeah, you're in trouble, kid." Ellie nudged his shoulder. "But for what it's worth, I've met the other women you've been on dates with, your other girlfriends, few as they were…"
"Shut uuuuup."
She laughed. "I'm teasing. My point is that this is the first time I wholeheartedly approve. For what it's worth. Maybe that's worth nothing." She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in for a side hug. "Mystery or not, she's good for you to be around. And if you like her, if you're worried about her, check on her. I'm sure you still have that phone number, you idiot."
He groaned. "I am an idiot, I know I know. And yeah, I have it." He pulled it out of his pocket and Ellie groaned as well. "I know. We've had this talk."
"I'm leaving your room and I'm going to pretend you do the right thing with that piece of paper, but that's up to you ultimately." Ruffling his hair, she stood up. "But for the record, if you do talk to her, update me on how she's doing, huh? I'm sure she's stressed after what happened this afternoon. And maybe I care too."
"Okay. Thanks, El."
"Sure."
She shut the door on her way out and he looked down at the post-it he'd kept for a month now. Like a complete and utter idiot. He looked at the number, at the scale she'd drawn, the lopsided circle around the 7…
God, he loved the way she made her 7, with the little horizontal dash cutting through the diagonal.
He snorted at himself. Whether she was a scientist who'd dissected little grey space men, a mafiosa who'd escaped from the mob she'd turned on, a witness to a crime, a journalist on the run from big bad foreign hitmen, or whatever else his brain had conjured up, she was a woman who'd been through a shock earlier today. A woman he cared about, even if he took the romantic feelings out of it. He really liked her as a person. And he wanted her to be okay.
He wanted to keep being around her…whether she was involved in something or not. Whether there'd been a threat on that note attached to the wrench or not. Whether she might…pull him into whatever danger she might be in or not.
And then there was everything he'd seen, connected with that wrench. Don Trappins… a name he wouldn't soon forget after that mugshot. He went to his desk and wrote it down just in case he DID forget. Was there any sort of connection between him and Sarah?
Did it matter as to whether or not he would call her and make sure she was okay? No. And neither did it affect whether or not he wanted that date. God he wanted it so bad.
Chuck decided it wouldn't be so bad to dive in headfirst, if he was in it with her.
So he grabbed his own cellphone, held the phone number he hadn't used yet in clammy fingers, and he dialed.
$...$
Sarah sat in the folding chair in her office, pulled up right against the window. She'd turned off the awful headache inducing lighting in the room, leaving her in the dark, which made looking out over the expansive parking lot feel a lot safer, honestly.
There was no sign of anything that looked like the car she'd seen peel off and out of the parking lot. They'd delivered their message. They didn't have any reason to come back and keep watch on her shop. At least not yet. But she was nervous, still.
And she felt an aching loneliness, too.
The Buy More was lit up with its big bright green and yellow sign, a beacon of good deals and friendly customer service. And apparently sometimes harassment, depending on who was working at the time?
She smirked to herself at the way Chuck had snuck her out of there that day she'd had the misfortune to meet…what were their names? Jeff and Lester?
That had been the day he'd also been dragged over the coals by his boss when they were stiffed by a con artist. That put the frown back onto her face.
She hated that she still loved her dad as much as she did, that she still thought fondly of sitting in the front seat of his Pontiac somewhere in New Mexico on a desert road, singing some sort of classic rock song together, eating ice cream, drinking root beer floats. Because they'd been committing crimes. But it had felt so good, getting approval from her dad after she'd fake cried well enough to stiff a 20 off of some poor unsuspecting retiree.
It had felt like a game they were playing together, until she was old enough to know that it wasn't.
It felt gross, this mixture of shame and reminiscing.
She'd just wanted normal memories with her dad, and instead she was sitting in the dark in the office of her very own business she was about to open, sitting with a threatening note from some criminals looking to murder her dad if he didn't pay back the money they apparently felt they were owed.
What were the odds they ended up kidnapping and killing her because he'd messed with the wrong criminal posse or whatever?
She shivered and glanced at her phone.
Still nothing.
Fuck him.
She'd wring his damn neck.
She didn't care if he WASher father.
The loneliness reared its head even more and she felt a bubble rise in her chest. Blinking, she suppressed the urge to cry. God, why couldn't he and his life of crime just leave her alone? Why couldn't he reform or something? Her mom didn't want him anymore, but maybe he could find some nice woman and settle down somewhere. Get a real job. He'd gotten some college. Or at least, that was what he'd told her mom when they were dating apparently. He could've lied. He lied compulsively.
Pushing a hand through her hair and glancing back out towards the still busy Buy More across the lot, she jumped about a foot when her phone went off, the ringer as loud as it could be, piercing through the silence so shrilly it almost hurt her ears.
"Jesus Christ!"
Her dad. It had to be him. She was going to tar and feather him.
Verbally.
She grabbed the phone and looked at it. It was an LA number. He WAS here.
But she also reminded herself she was making deals with a bank for business loans and also working with a contractor and it could be any of them, too. So she didn't answer with a "you fucking fuck!" like she wanted to.
Instead…
"Hello?"
There was silence for a split second and she shut her eyes against it, wondering if this would culminate in yet another threat from the guys in brown or whoever. Fear seized her heart. And then…
"H-Hi. Sarah? Is this…?"
"Chuck." A smile blossomed on her face so quickly, pleasure hitting her hard enough to nearly knock her off of her chair altogether. "Hello."
"Hello! Um, I'm sorry for, uh, for calling like this. I mean, I just saw you a few hours ago. And you seemed like you wanted to be left alone, so I probably shouldn't have called like this, I'm just wondering how you are. That's all." He cleared his throat. "What I mean is…" He huffed. "Shit, I'm gonna stop being such a putz and just say it outright. I want to make sure you're okay after what happened. Now that it's been a few hours since the wrench went through your window and you've had time to sort of, um…Well, are you okay? I guess I'm just worried about you. You seemed shaken up."
Sarah's eyes fell shut and she just listened to him. He rambled and it was so Chuck Bartowski that it comforted her like nothing else could've in that moment. But there was a deepness to his tone too, a surety and confidence. He wasn't tiptoeing. He was just asking her point blank if she was okay. And she could feel his genuine need to know she was okay, because he apparently…cared.
It felt foreign. It really and truly did.
And it felt so damn good that she ached deep in her soul to have him in front of her. Immediately.
"I was," she said honestly. "I was shaken up. It left me rattled. I just… I mean, I lived in D.C. and I've seen some real shit," she smiled as he chuckled, "but nobody ever threw something through the patisserie I worked at's window."
"Shit, I'm just so sorry. That was scary. I, um, honestly haven't stopped thinking about you and wondering if you're okay. Not-Not that you're—You're tough and definitely capable of taking care of yourself. But still, I've been worried."
Sarah sighed. "That's sweet. I could tell you were worried before you left. I'm sorry I ruined the whole day the way I did. The night, I mean. I don't know if I maybe overreacted." She bit her lip and winced.
She was glad he hadn't been here for her breakdown. But now that she was just sitting here in the dark, alone, actively lonely, she wished he was here instead of just a voice coming from her phone.
"Of course you didn't overreact. That shit's scary, Sarah. I'm a grown 26 year old 6 foot 4 man and I was scared. Although, that's not saying much, I get scared by 70s slasher movies so…"
Sarah laughed, letting her head fall back. "I don't know why that makes me like you even more than I already did, but there it is."
"Oh, good. Didn't make me too popular in high school."
"Fuck high school," she said vehemently. And he agreed wholeheartedly, laughing. "No, but-but really, I-I think I'm okay now. I got it all cleaned up and I put the tarp over it which should be enough until the window guy comes to take a look at it tomorrow afternoon."
"Good. That's good to hear."
She realized then that this was the first time Chuck had actually called her and she'd only ever given him her phone number that one time, on that little post-it. Which meant he still had it, and he'd finally just used it to check on her, to make sure she was okay.
Something about that made her absolutely melt. Both that he still had it, and that he was using it like this.
"Chuck, you've already been driving back and forth and back and forth today, because of me, so I get it if you don't want to…" Was she really doing this? Yes, she was. She didn't want to be alone right now. But more than that, she specifically wanted to be with him. She wanted him here in person. She wanted that date she'd actively shoved away. And yes, there was a dangerous cloud over this enterprise of hers now. A dangerous cloud shaped like her dad. But her dad apparently wasn't going to be calling, and the boys in brown weren't coming back tonight, and she really wanted Chuck to.
"Would you be opposed to canceling the raincheck? I mean, maybe we can have dinner together still?" She glanced at her watch. It wasn't too late. "If you haven't eaten."
He was quiet for long enough that she started to wonder if she actually had pushed too hard. But then he blurted, "I haven't eaten. Sorry, I just—I wasn't calling to—I wasn't expecting you to cancel the raincheck. I wasn't expecting you to. Um, but I'd love that. I would love to cancel the raincheck. Yes. Please."
Sarah giggled, already feeling a bit of the tension in her easing. "Okay." She shook her head then, realizing she'd just acted on impulse, simply because she'd heard his voice again and felt the relief coursing through her, the calm. "Um, sorry, this sort of caught me by surprise too, and I don't actually have an idea for…" She sighed, rolling her eyes at herself. "You called and I undid the raincheck spontaneously, so now I don't have any sort of plan."
Chuckling, he made a thoughtful humming sound. "Where are you now?"
"At the chocolate shop."
"Perfect. You just stay put. I'll come to you. How do you feel about burritos?"
"I love a good burrito."
"Well, you're about to have the best burrito of your life. Bean and cheese?"
"Absolutely."
"Okay, be there as soon as I can…"
They hung up a minute later and she turned to grin out of the office window, peeking through the blinds, and then she sat back against her chair, wiping the dust from the blinds off her finger on her jeans, and she let out a bubbly giggle, her head falling back.
She knew she had a potential target on her back and tugging Chuck in with her, having him show up here specifically tonight for dinner, probably was selfish. She just realized that now.
Sarah Walker had never been the person who made instantaneous, rash decisions. Even moving to LA had been something she dwelled on before she did it. And while it had been quick, while it was a massive change, she'd thought about it quite a bit before doing it.
And yet just now on the phone, Chuck calling to make sure she was okay had snapped her narrative of needing to be alone tonight right in half. What she needed was company, but not just any company. She needed Chuck in particular. She needed this night, this break, this distraction. There wasn't anything she could do until she could speak with her father anyway.
So she would try to just enjoy herself. Enjoy him.
Maybe she hadn't earned it, but she wanted to try to be the person who might earn it.
And in the meantime…
She leapt up to her feet and hurried into the kitchen, looking around the place, before she finally hurried to the storage closet. She didn't know how much time she had until Chuck arrived, but she wanted to try her best to make this count.
Whatever that meant.
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