Chapter 2.2 A Hasty Engagement

What would her mom think? Rowan had been endlessly searching for Diane's approval since she was a child. Every mistake she made, regardless of her age or ability at the time, stayed with her like a regretful tattoo on her brain. What Rowan continually failed to recognize, was that Diane had never demanded perfection from her.

“She’d say thank fucking god, and then she’d start writing out invoices for the last year at the Vestigeum that I pissed away,” Rowan said, looking down at the bar top, feeling a sharp, searing anger in her chest for a fraction of a second.

“Could it be possible that the Vestigeum made you even more dramatic?” Kyle asked exasperatedly. “I was under the impression that it's an institution of conformity. Don't they turn out Regulators like little green army men. All the same, boring, easily manipulated.”

“Why do you think I had full-on meltdown? They tried to break my brain. Dramatic or not, you know I'm right,” Rowan responded with a seriousness Kyle could feel. “Seriously, Ky, if I don’t have a job in another week, I’d love to offer my services. I’m highly inexperienced, as you might know, but as you might also know, I’m great at shooting the shit with drunks.”

“Sure, email me with your resume and if management finds that you have the proper qualifications, someone will reach out in the next four weeks,” Kyle said, eyebrows raised with an obnoxious corporate smile stretched across her face.

“Four weeks? But I know the manager,” Rowan whined before grabbing Kyle’s bar cloth, balling it up, and tossing it across the bar like a child.

Kyle’s eyes seemingly rolled all the way around her skull. This was the kind of reaction Rowan liked getting out of Kyle every once in a while. But  she saw a  look of frustration stamped on Kyle’s face. Grimacing, Rowan ran double-time along the perimeter of the bar to grab the cloth.

“Okay, so when am I going to meet this guy? No more dancing around the subject, Kyle,” Rowan pressed with a demanding tone trying to show some seriousness.

“You won’t have to wait long at all,” Kyle pointed toward the door. A slice of light cut across the bar floor and then up the wall behind the bar, temporarily blinding Rowan.  

“Are you serious right now?” Rowan asked Kyle through clenched teeth, her lips twisted up into what she could feel was likely a psychotic-looking smile. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” Rowan asked, still speaking through her teeth.

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't,” Kyle laughed in response.

A tall silhouette broke through the light. As the door closed behind him, Rowan saw Wes for the first time. He was tall and slender, but sturdy with olive-toned skin and dark eyes. Objectively handsome, Rowan could tell that he was very much Kyle’s type, suddenly putting her more at ease with Kyle's hasty choice. Although he had a severe jaw and cutting eyes, Rowan found a strange comfort in his face. There was an odd familiarity about him, like she’d known him in a past life.

He walked up to Rowan, closer than she would’ve liked, but she felt strangely disarmed when he extended his hand to greet her. She was sure she knew this face, while she searched her memory, it seemed as if time had stopped.

Suddenly, Rowan realized that she was shaking his hand and staring at him like he was a caveman standing in front of her.

“Oh my gosh, what was that,” she said as she snapped herself out of the strange stupor she'd just experienced. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m so sorry. I don’t know where I went just now. You seem so familiar; I was completely thrown off. Oh man, Kyle, doesn’t he look familiar?”

“Yeah, I mean, he’s my fiancée, so we’re kind of familiar with one another,” Kyle giggled while she answered covering her mouth and looking at Wes with big eyes.

“Don’t be a pill,” Rowan responded more frank than she meant to.

“You’re Diane Barclay’s daughter, right?” Wes asked Rowan. He could see the annoyance that washed across her face when he said this.

“No, no. Not that I’m a fan. I mean, uhhh, I am a fan, she’s great, but that’s not what I’m getting at,” Rowan wasn’t sure if he was being sincere or if he was just trying to save himself. “I worked with your mom at the Commission a few times. We were put on some big projects together. I think I spent a few weeks with a group of people at your house while we were working. She was always kind to host us.”

“Of course she was,” Rowan responded out of the side of her mouth.