Whilst waiting for Stella’s arrival, Anton made sure all the necessary items and ingredients for their dinner were on hand and in the house. Steaks and tiger prawns, check.<i>Double-Kick Hot Sauce </i>to be mixed with the extra virgin olive oil for the prawns, check. Various seasonings for both surf and turf, check. Japanese-style rice, check. He sucked at choosing wine, and he knew it. So that all bases were covered, he bought a<i>Merlot </i>and a C<i>hardonnay</i>, which was chilling in the fridge. At least he knew enough to<i>not </i>put the red wine in the fridge with the white. Little victories, and all that.<br/><br/>Satisfied that everything seemed to be in order, he lost track of where the cats had disappeared to. And Stella still hadn’t shown up. Ah well, I did say whenever, he thought. Anton was a little surprised as it was pushing toward a half hour. He thought she’d be right down soon after he sent his message, thinking her eagerness to get Tesla back would be all-consuming.<br/><br/>A familiar chime from his phone, and just one name popped into his head: Stella. Needless to say, he was a bit surprised when the display read<i>Magdalene Melendez. </i>What the hell? he thought, knowing he never gave her his number. She gave him her number at the conclusion of their last photo shoot, and that’s why her name was on display, though he never did call her. With a heavy sigh, he opened her text message.<br/><br/><i>Hi Anton,</i><br/><br/><i>First off, I would like to apologize profusely for probably surprising you with this message. I, um, got your number from Chloe, the receptionist at the agency. I also, um, lied about having it and then losing it while at our out-of-town shoot. And, uh, that’s when she gave me your number. I hope you’re not mad!</i><br/><br/><i>I was hoping you’d call me, and when you didn’t, well, I just couldn’t wait any longer. I thought we had a fun time while posing for those ridiculous wedding shots, especially with all the do-overs. I just wanted to see you again, away from cameras and barking producers. Maybe we could meet for a simple cup of coffee or ice cream or something this weekend?</i><br/><br/><i>Hope to hear from you, Anton. And I hope even more that you’re not mad. Take care.</i><br/><br/><i>Maggie</i><br/><br/>Well, that sure came outta left field, he thought. He’d be certain that Chloe didn’t get any Christmas chocolates this year. Smiling at the thought, as he knew it was untrue, he composed a short reply.<br/><br/><i>Hey Mags,</i><br/><br/><i>Nah, no worries. I’m not mad. Would seem rather silly to be mad over something like this. Just a little surprised is all. To answer your question, sure. How about tomorrow? Unless you got something already planned on your Sunday, that is.</i><br/><br/><i>If you want, we could even do both. There’s that </i>Café Ladro<i>on the way to the mall, with a </i>Haagen Dazs<i>right across the street. I’ll leave it up to you as to which comes first.</i><br/><br/><i>A</i><br/><br/>After SEND was pressed, he conveniently noticed how he had left out the<i>or something </i>part from her message<i>. </i>Definitely not going down that road, he mused. He was, however, beside himself as to what he could possibly be thinking. On one hand, there was a sweet, very attractive and talented red-head, while on the other hand lurked a hot-blooded Latina. Anton was still getting to know the former, while he knew a bit more of the latter, if only through work. Now that he thought about it, if Stella’s flame tresses were anything to go by, she could be just as hot-blooded as Magdalene, if not more. Slipping his phone into a back pocket of his jeans, he thought of how this was shaping up to be an interesting weekend, to say the least. Or, it could turn out to be one, big-ass clusterfuck. Smart money was on the latter. With a head shake, he went in search of the absent felines, naturally heading off toward a location they were not at.<br/><br/>The<i>it's just me </i>he heard temporarily postponed his search for the pair of mis-proportioned cats. That sounded like Stella, he thought, as he moved toward the living room.