

Logically, he knew he shouldn’t. He got her mobile, now he should be making a smooth exit and selling it as quickly as he could. He also knew that it probably wasn’t good not remember the last time you’ve had anything to eat or drink, so he nodded. “Tea would be lovely.”
“Great. I know a lovely little place just another street over.” She smiled and nodded her head in the cafe’s direction. He seemed to be a relatively nice person, and she thought having tea with someone would be nice for a change. “Are you from around here, Don?”
“Fantastic.” He wasn’t exactly sure where around here is, beyond somewhere in England, but that’s enough to know the answer and he grinned at her. “Nope, I’m from way up in Glasgow. How about you, Miss Cartel, where are you from?”
“Glasgow’s a nice place.” She looked around the environment, taking in the sounds of rushing people and automobiles. “I’m from Birmingham, but I’m visiting friends here. And please call me Ivanaa.” She softly smiled.
“Glasgow’s brilliant. I can’t say I’ve ever been to Birmingham, though.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, feeling legitimately relaxed. “What’s it like, Ivanaa?”
“It’s lovely really. Busy, but what place isn’t now? Honestly, I am still getting used to it. I was born there, then moved to the U.S when I was young, and I’ve come back recently to see family and friends.” She smiled and ran a hand through her hair, “Enough of me blabbing about myself. Tell me about yourself.”
And their goes his relaxation, running out the window to be replaced by a fake. Making up small lies—being late for a job he doesn’t have, being blind, so on—those are easy. Making up himself? Not so much. He smiled shyly and shrugged a shoulder. “I’m pretty boring, really. I don’t get much spare time away from work, I guess I’ve sort of lost myself in it over the years.” Every lie is wrapped around truth. It’s simpler to keep up with them that way.
“Ah yes, work does seem to take most away from themselves. My job has done the same for me.” She nodded, “The cafe is just around the corner now.” She managed to move among the many people on the sidewalk and not run into anymore of them. “What do you do?”
He weaved his way effortlessly through the crowd, putting seventeen years of practice to good use as they neared the café. The lies came quicker now, jumping to the front of his mind as his story pieced itself together. “I work for a jeweller, appraising things people want to sell. I’ve got an eye for quality, he says. How about you? Something fun?”
“It doesn’t mean what you want to believe is a fact, though. And are we honestly still discussing who the face, the two...
“That’s precisely what I want to believe, as a matter of fact.”