Mr. Dalton sent the Release and Contract forms via email, which in turn I gave to Sugar. A normal person would have forwarded the email. A simple button. The one located in the top right corner. The instant gratification seemed ideal. I couldn't let time and space separate the connection that I had with Sugar. A week had come and gone, I tried to keep Sugar updated with the project. I'd received short replies like, or worse,

I almost threw my smart phone to the wall when I got the last one. No. This wasn't happening. I felt like I was talking to a cement wall. I needed this slither of connection, or at least her acceptance to this project, to grow.

"Why are you here?" Sugar asked, her eyes staring at the computer screen. Her body aligned with the keyboard.

The navy wool sweater warmed my torso. A little too much. Sweat began to form under my armpits and forearm. I prayed that Sugar wouldn't notice. She seemed to take in small details and recall them as if she'd prepared for a pop quiz.

Multiple phone calls orchestrated in the dispatch department. Each ringer played their own melody, higher and lower pitches, some ringers had a different tempo and then sometimes they would sing together. The work environment consisted of crème colored desks that grouped in fours, three inches plastic wall was the most private element to this arrangement.

Luckily Sugar's quad seemed preoccupied in answering the phone calls. Her computer faced the inner corner where all the desks connected. Her back faced me.

"Do I need an excuse to see your beautiful face?" I asked.

Yes, flirt. Like that worked the first time. Idiot.

My natural response was to tease and flirt. With Sugar ... I couldn't determine the correct plan to act on. Sugar snorted. Her fingers typed on the black keyboard. She watched as the letters and words appeared on the screen. Her right leg crossed over top of her left calf.

"Are you really that bored to come see me?" she questioned back, and then added on, "What's the real reason?"

"Why are there no chairs around? Are visitors not welcomed here?" I pointed my finger towards a non-existent wire chair. I twisted and twirled to see if I overlooked one. Then my eyes hovered on Sugar. Her hair frizzed around her ears, the ponytail tight on her scalp.

"Too many questions," Sugar said mostly to herself. Her fingers stopped typing and the wheels on her computer chair squeaked. She glided over to the desk's front where I stood.

She stared at me. Her elbows pressed against the tan wood.

"Tell me what's going on. I don't have time to play smitten kitten. You either say what you want to say or call me later. I have to focus on the task at hand."

Those caramel eyes. The straight forward face.

Shit.

I licked my lips. I made a "huff" sound and ran my hand through my hair. I glanced down to see her hands. Her fingers interwoven like a loose braid or as if she was praying. I recalled when we ice-skated. Those hands held my forearm up.

Her clothes smelled like clean cotton. Warm and simple.

"You're being straight to the point." I muttered.

"I have twenty-seven emails to answer. I might be called to arrive at an emergency scene anytime. I have to get to the point," she declared.

Sugar's work aura differed and yet revealed more on her character. She obtained the information she desired. Her confidence resided in her experiences and what she knew. I recalled her confidence in teaching me to ice-skate.

Is she afraid of anything?

I tilted my head for a moment.

Yes. When there was something out of her control. And something else ... what was it?

"If you don't speak, I'll assume that you have nothing to say. You came in to play because you were bored."

"I have the Release and Contract forms for the documentary," I stated.

"Oh well that's-"

"We'll need them signed. Also, we need you video taped giving us full permission for this project," I said, "That's what Mr. Dalton said - he's the CEO of Hazel Inc. - the company who is funding this documentary. The writers have outlined, demonstrated the risks and responsibilities, and the schedule. We're still working on a name."

I held out the printed and stapled documents.

Sugar frowned. Reluctantly, she took the papers. The new paper made a harsh noise as Sugar flipped to the next page. Her matted pink lips moved as she read the introduction. Words mumbled under her breath. Her face stoic focused on the legal form.

"The writers wrote the pilot already. It seems there will be four episodes. They will be super long. Almost two hours' worth unless the writers decide to change the narrative," I stated.

"How can they write a narrative when it's supposed to be real life? They can't predict the future." She placed her chin on her hand as her elbow was planted on the desk.

I nodded.

"Yes - well - since the first episode will be first impressions with the women and me. I've relayed our first date with the writers. Let me tell you, they were thrilled and surprised by-"

"Wait," Sugar stopped me, "You told them?"

"Believe me. I didn't want to. The writers told me the first episode is crucial. The audience needs to 'get to know the characters' or people. They mentioned I'll meet all three women – I corrected them to say 'I know Sugar already,' then the story kind of took off from there."

Sugar flipped frantically towards the back of the stapled packet.

Her fingers gripped tightly on the paper. "It says here. Sugar pours hot chocolate on August's head."

She looked up at me.

I frowned. Her look didn't match the proud or joyful expression that I imagined she would have.

Shouldn't she be happy? Didn't she enjoy doing that the first time? After all, she's not getting hot chocolate poured on her.

"This is idiotic," she said, throwing the documents down on the desk. "This is fake, August. This is superficial. No one will believe this dramatized introduction."

I shook my head. "This is the truth. It happened. I have the hospital bills as proof."

"Tell the writers to rewrite it."

"Why?"

"Just do it. This is supposed to be a documentary. Aren't there questions to be asked? Don't the writers allow the narrative to work on its own?" she asked.

There it was again. That control.

The spark. Where does it come from?

I opened my mouth.

Sugar shook her head and her arms in the air. "You know what, we can't do this at the moment. We'll talk about it - please leave. I'll give you the Release and Contract form signed later."

"I needed them by tonight."

"That's too soon."

"I tried to communicate with you. You dismissed me."

Sugar bit her lip. I focused on the small tooth that appeared.

"Fine. Fine," Sugar glanced down at the papers. "I can sign them tonight. Once I've read them when I get home."

Home.

I leaned forward a little. I grinned.

"Can I come over, Lollipop?"

' ' ' ' ' '

I knew better than to ask.

It was tempting if only she had said, "Yes."

I could have bought a Rosa and Moscato. I'd go snooping into her cabinets as she talked about her work day. I'd discover all her hidden secrets like her pet snake, Roger, her romantic novels collection, or her Backstreet Boys CDs. Something! Anything that revealed a passion. I'd gotten closer. Have her sign the dotted line. Maybe a kiss or more to seal the deal.

However, this was Sugar.

I sat outside on a bench. The dreary, cold January temperatures matched my mood. The sunshine cast on my face. I stretched my sweater's collar over my mouth. Mist formed near my nostrils. The fuzzy gloves kept my fingers warm. Well, semi-warm.

I watched the automatic sliding doors to the dispatch department. Sugar mentioned her long hour shifts; I hoped I arrived near the end of her shift.

I told the truth.

Mr. Dalton, the director, and writers gave me duties: find the women, reach out to the three lucky ladies, and have them complete the forms. I reached out to candidates on other dating accounts; the main concept focused on how a "player" discovers love. CoffeeGrinds, Rumble, SenderLove, and other online dating apps floated my notifications. I changed my settings so then I'll receive the quickest and interested women to join me. I picked them from the group I flirted with online. I hadn't met them face-to-face.

I knew how "weird" and surreal the interaction would be.

I delivered a scripted message:

The script felt plain. I shook my head when I copied and pasted the greeting to the women I thought would answer. Two said to buzz off. That's the PG version. They mostly ignored me.

My leg bounced as I waited for Sugar.

I bet she's read the entire packet.

I chuckled into my sweater.

I'd imagine Sugar with the packet in front of her. An enormous magnifying glass to inspect the value behind each word. Her fingers gripped a red pen, the sentences bleed like a body that got cut open.

What if she backs out?

My breathing increased.

A shiver went through my body.

What if she throws it in my face? What if she says no. She can at any time, like what Pen –

I rubbed my face with my gloves.

Keep it together. You got this. You're waiting for Sugar to come out. Don't bring her up. You have time. She'll sign the papers. She gave her word when you were hanging out – I mean, she said she'll try.

My licked my lips.

She can choose at any time to leave. Why would she do this project? It's idiotic. It's-

Someone kicked my foot.

"How long have you been waiting?" The question broke my thought process. Concern was detected in her voice.

I glanced up to see Sugar.

Her heavy coat engulfed her body. A ruby and bronze patterned scarf wrapped around her neck. Puffy ear muffs made it look like she had two cotton balls for her ears.

"I'm not for sure," I answered.

Sugar plopped down on the bench. She looked out towards the parking lot.

"That wasn't smart," she said, "but I'm impressed."

She moved her purse in her lap. Pulling out her packet, she then handed the form to me.

"I read it. We'll need to schedule when to do the video."

I stared. My eyes became blurry.

Stupid cold!

"Definitely, when would you prefer?"

"My brain is fried. I can't remember my work schedule for this week. I'll tell the writers myself, I'm not pouring hot chocolate on you. It's too-close to reality. I don't want to mix fantasy with real life."

Sugar stretched out her arms, the coat's arm revealed her wrists. The cold touched her. She shriveled up back to her arms crossing position.

I nodded.

I'll take that. I don't know if the writers will listen. I folded the papers up. I didn't have to look to see if she signed them.

My legs stretched out to the sidewalk.

"You have any plans?"

Sugar shook her head.

"You keep going, don't you?" she gave me a sideways glance and added, "I do have plans."

What kind? Clubbing? Reading books? I think she might like ... baking? Right? Baking. I've read too many profiles today.

"Like what are you doing?"

"We're not dating, August."

My arms crossed against my chest.

Sugar yawned before she continued speaking, "We're not even friends. We're co-workers."

"Co-workers that like to punch, spill, or-" I tried to say before Sugar tried to shove me off the bench, "Hey, see that! Right there, you're doing it again. You're so touchy."

A hint of flirtation in my voice.

Sugar dropped her hands.

"I'm not touchy."

I gave her a sideways glance.

"Whatever you say, darling." I winked.

Then I heard Sugar laugh.

She covered her mouth to conceal the loudness. This wasn't the snort like earlier. This was a full-on laughter that rumbled in her chest. The heavier clothes seemed to muffle the sound. I smiled as I observed this two-sizes-to-big coat woman who I couldn't quite read.

Man, that laugh.

It awoken something within me. Something...nice.

Wow! August feels certain emotions and he's dealing with his own insecurities. The past resides in his heart.

We got to see a little bit of Sugar. 😊

Oh! Is anyone excited to know who the other two lucky ladies will be? Hehe! I am! Along with seeing new side characters in the near future.

Plus, where was Min-ho? He was probably busy with his own agenda.

Wonder what is August's past. He buried it deeper inside his heart. Hopefully, he'll open up a little more.

He seems to be more interested in Sugar. If you know what I mean. 😉

Hehehe! ❤️ It's nice to have all the chapters down already.