Iscariot

Close friends of mine are in disbelief

Mika stepped outside, the breeze rustling her long skirt over her sandals, a cardigan thrown over her blouse. She'd kept her hair down, brushing it back from her face with one hand as she walked across the street. She could see James' light was still on, his front door open to let the fresh air in through the screen door. Walking up the porch steps, the wood of the old Victorian house creaked beneath her sandals. She could smell the flowers he'd planted earlier, peonies, their big fluffy blooms waving prettily in the light of the setting sun. She quickly leaned over and pressed the doorbell, seeing his shadow approaching from the back of the house.

"Miss," He saw her at the door and his eyes warmed as he smiled. "Please come inside."

"James, I, ah, I got your card." Mika suddenly felt a little awkward, a little overwhelmed as he opened the screen and ushered her in. She passed by him while he held the door. He wasn't wearing his sweater or tie, the top buttons of his shirt undone to hang open at his throat. Obviously, he'd been relaxing. "Thank you for the flowers."

His home was nice. Everything had an older charm to it that she hadn't expected. Wing backed chairs, a love seat, antique wood arranged around carpets on the hardwood, and of course books. They were set here and there. The shelves on the walls were packed.

"You are very welcome." He watched her with amusement as she curiously looked about. "Please, make yourself comfortable. Would you care for something to drink?" He stepped towards the hall at the back of the room that Mika assumed led to the kitchen. "More tea?"

She cringed inside, remembering the night before and how rude she'd been. "Um,"

"Wine?" He continued, his back to her.

"I could use the wine," she admitted.

James glanced over his shoulder at her, his look turning sympathetic. "Then wine it is."

Not wanting to leave him to serve her, Mika followed. The kitchen had a similar feel: heavy wood, an older charm. It was somewhere she'd expect to see a pair of grandparents living rather than James. Several china settings hung in a hutch to one side, a metal teapot on the stove. There were some of the peonies from his garden in a Mason jar on the kitchen island.

"I hope I'm not interrupting or anything." She saw his phone on the table. Mika folded her arms, turning back to see him pull a corkscrew from a drawer.

"Not at all, quite the contrary, Miss. I'm happy to have the company. Red? White?" His hand hovered at a cabinet door, wine glasses within.

"White." Mika forced herself to drop her arms and try to relax. "Can I help?"

"That depends." He studied her and Mika felt herself blushing. "Are you hungry?"

"You don't have to bother."

"It is not a bother." He leaned over to look a little closer at her. "Have you eaten?" Mika's blush deepened. James' tone, his words purred in her ears even though he, himself, was casual.

"Not really." She swallowed, her mouth dry before she even had a taste of the wine.

James nodded and moved to the refrigerator. "Then you may help me." He brought back a bottle and a small block of white cheese. "Something light, or would you prefer dinner?"

"I couldn't impose." She wasn't sure she could eat much even if she wanted to. He raised a brow. "Dinner is a bit much," she admitted.

"Then I will keep it light." He set a small cutting board on the island in front of her, placing the cheese and a knife. A bread box revealed a couple of baguettes.

Mika gratefully started cutting some slices as he moved about. Grapes and a pear were also placed. He wrapped the bottle in a cloth napkin and pulled the cork from it.