<i>&gt;DING&lt; </i>chimed his iPhone, and at that innocent sound, Anton’s Annoy O’ Meter spiked significantly.  Convinced it was yet another text from Magdalene, he was pleasantly surprised to see it was actually from Stella.  She chose to answer his voicemail with a text, he noticed.  No matter, he thought.  At least she answered him.  Naturally, said Annoy O’ Meter was now back on calmer waters.<br/><br/>His right index finger expertly tapped out his reply.  Anton wasn’t, by any stretch of the imagination, a thumbs type of texter.  Not if he wanted accuracy and no typos, anyway.<br/><br/><i>Hey Stella,</i><br/><br/><i>Good to hear from you.  Yep, busy is good, right?  Well, the play starts at 8.  Dinner sounds great.  Capitol Grille</i><i>is two blocks away.  How about I make reservations for 5?  That should give us plenty of time to enjoy our meal.  We could either meet there or leave the apartment together.  Let me know if any of this doesn’t work for you.  See you Sunday, if I don’t bump into you before then.</i><br/><br/><i>Anton</i><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">&gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt; &gt;&lt; &lt; &lt; &lt; &lt; &lt;​</div><br/>A few hours later, however, and Annoy O’ Meter was not to be denied.  The incoming call was from Magdalene.  Inhaling deeply, he decided to take it, figuring he had avoided and ignored her long enough.  “What’s up, Mags?” Anton answered.  Brief silence on the other end, and then, “Oh, you picked up,” she said, a little stunned.<br/><br/>“Yeah, well, after our chance encounter at the agency, I thought enough was enough,” he replied with an even tone.  “Well, that’s good,” she stated.  “Thank you, Anton.  So, uh, what’s up?”<br/><br/>Following a laugh, he said, “I just asked you that, Mags, and besides, you called me, remember?”<br/><br/>A nervous chuckle, and she continued.  “Oh, that’s right.  Sorry.  So, uh, how’s that friend of yours?”  Friend of mine, he thought, who could she be asking about?  Stella was the only one who came to mind, but why would she give a rat’s ass about her?  She never did before.<br/><br/>Unable to pinpoint exactly who she meant, he finally asked, “You mean Stella?  What about her, and since when do you care about her?”  Anton would be lying to himself if he didn’t find this exchange not only amusing, but also baffling.<br/><br/>“Well, y’know, I, uh, felt bad about being so mean to her at that store, and, um, was just wondering,” she seemed to trip over herself.  “Have you, uh, seen her or talked to her, um, tonight?”  What the hell’s going on? Anton wondered.  None of this was making sense, and the person he was talking to sure didn’t sound like the Magdalene he knew.  “What’s going on, Mags? he asked.  “Why are you so interested in Stella all of a sudden?  You okay?  You don’t sound like yourself.”<br/><br/>“Yeah, I’m fine, Anton.  Probably, uh, just had too much to, uh, drink tonight,” she stated.  “I’ll, um, let you go for now.  And don’t be a stranger.  G’night, Anton.”  Wishing her a good night back, they hung up at the same time.  Looking at his phone (as if it would reveal any answers), he shook his head and placed it on the table.  Too much to drink?  She wasn’t slurring any of her words, he noted.<br/><br/>Shrugging, he returned to his IPA while picking up his Xbox controller.  Mystifying Magdalene was soon replaced with headshots and fragmentation grenades.  The furry purr bucket known as Licorice had, by now, claimed her usual spot against his left thigh.