CHAPTER 7
They spent the entire dirigible ride sitting in silence.
That was until Francis went off to flirt with some pretty girls to relieve some of his stress. Alice felt sick to her stomach, as if she were some silly school girl that had been cheated on by her boyfriend. She knew that wasn't true, though. They were colleagues, and nothing more.
The fact that he'd said nothing about the almost-kiss proved that.
But what if he just didn't want you to feel awkward? Alice felt a little voice in her head that sounded too much like her hamburger-stuffing, American best friend for her liking. But even if he did-Alice huffed at the fact that she was arguing with imaginary voice- it was unprofessional for colleagues to have a relationship. Private life and work life would start to have an effect on each other and then things got messy. Not that it hadn't been done before, her parents were examples of that, but that was besides her point.
"Hey, little lady." A man came towards her.
She looked at him. Grey and brown clothes, an oil splotch on his pants. Mechanical engineer. Twitchy left fingers, nervous disorder or childhood injury. Scarred lip and loppy eyes. Dark circles, he's stressed. The pay for an engineer is pretty good, so it's not his job. No mark of a wedding ring on his fingers, so he's not married.
"What's a pretty girl like you doin' all alone?" The man knocked her out of her thoughts. He's lost one eye. She watched the fake eye twitch every now and then.
"What's a mechanical engineer like you doing up here?" Alice raised an eyebrow at him.
The man looked surprised for a minute and then laughed at her. "He said you was hella smart." The man held a hand out to shake. "Can't tell ya ma name, miss. But, I can tell ya that it ain't my shift just yet."
She shook his hand, noticing a blaring sun tattoo on his wrist with the words 'La Libertad Española'. Antonio's lackey, huh? "What the bloody hell does your boss want? I thought I was rid of the fucking bastard."
The man laughed again. "He said you'd say that." He was still grinning at her and leaned in, pretending to kiss her on the cheek. "Here you go, ma'am. Don't read it until you're alone." The man slipped a letter into Alice's coat pocket.
"What is it?"
"Can't tell ya, ma'am. I ain't got a clue." The man looked over at Francis and the women that surrounded him. "Your man?"
Alice shook her head. "My assistant."
"You like him, dontcha?" The man said again. "I can tell. I was around when they's met each other. Captain and Lord Vargas."
"Lord Vargas? That's a new one." Alice raised an eyebrow.
"We fellas on the ship like to tease him an' such." The man explained, chuckling a bit. "That a one get's to him the most. His face gets all red an' flustered. We fellas have knowns him since he was a wee lad."
Alice hummed. The image of a tiny Lovino ran around her head.
"Francis Bonnefoy, is his name, ain't it?"
Alice's head whipped to him. "Don't you dare-"
"Ha!" The cried triumphantly. "Ya do likes him."
God, this man's grammar was atrocious compared to even Alfred's. "No. I don't." She was sure her face was pure red. Professional. Real professional, Kirkland.
"So ya loves him." The man said with so much conviction that Alice felt the need to slap him and throw him out of the damn dirigible.
"I don't." Alice hissed, trying to put her face back to a natural, indifferent position.
"Sure ya does," The man insisted. "Oops, looks likes he's a comin' this way. I better skedaddle. Nice meetin' ya, ma'am!"
"Wait-!" She called, signaling Francis to stop and return to the group of girls drooling after him. He hesitated and raised an eyebrow at her. Alice rolled her eyes and made a shooing motion. "I want to talk to you more."
The grease-covered man raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
Well, at least he could pronounce that correctly. "I'm bored." Alice deadpanned. "Sit down, I'm guessing your shift isn't for a while. Considering you don't exactly work here." He winked at her sloppily and took a seat at an unoccupied table. She followed him.
"I assume you know my name." Alice said. She got a nod. "So, tell me why you're depressed."
"Miss?" He flinched slightly, hardly enough to notice. "I'm as fit as a fiddle!"
"That's not what your eyes say." She bit back, but not hard enough for him to get offended. "You haven't got much sleep."
"He said ya was a genius." The man rubbed his arm unconsciously.
"Antonio?" Alice asked, surprised. There was no way that indigenous dickweed would ever-
"'fraid not, miss." He tipped his head at her. "I be under the services of somebody else." And with that he left, disappearing into the crowd.