Two days later, in the evening, Daemon arrived at Cynthia's apartment. Not counting the incident from the last time, this was his first time here as a guest.
He pressed the doorbell, and not long after, Cynthia, in a semi-formal dress opened the door. Unlike the previous times they had met, she was giving a refreshing vibe, with less of the additions she had the habit of using to appear more beautiful, or desirable.
Looking at Daemon, she smiled and gave way for him to enter.
"I didn't change the code after you brought me back last time, so you can just unlock the door and enter the next time you come."
Daemon only showed the tiniest smile at her words, and she didn't insist on the subject either:
"You can keep your shoes. My father will be here soon."
They went inside, and on the way he gave her a bag he was holding:
"I didn't want to come empty-handed, so I brought the dessert."
"You didn't have to."
Cynthia took the gift. When she opened the bag, she exclaimed:
"It is the same as the one I ate the first time we went to a restaurant together."
"Yes. I don't know your preferences, but you seemed to have particularly enjoyed this dessert."
Cynthia showed a wide smile:
"Did you make it yourself?"
"I bought it."
"Oh. It doesn't matter. I can't cook either. You can sit on the couch first while I put this away."
He nodded, but didn't sit down immediately. Last time, he had only assessed the place. Now he took a good look, truly paying attention to the decoration.
He didn't know if she did it herself, or if it had been commissioned to professional designers as it was the case for expensive apartments like this one, but the design felt harmonious. Though he didn't find a homey feeling in it. It was undoubtedly modern, worthy of the year 2023 they were in, but that was the only advantage he was finding.
He sat down, and soon the owner of the place came with a glass of water that she gave him.
She sat down a short distance away on an armchair, and looked at him with a smile:
"How is your work coming along?"
"I have not encountered any trouble. I only need some more time to be done."
Cynthia showed an apologetic expression:
"Sorry for taking up your time. I really tried to stop my father from bothering you."
Daemon shook his head
"It doesn't matter. It is not healthy to work through the night, and I need to eat too."
"I'm relieved, then. Have you made a decision for what has been troubling you yet?"
"I have not. I'm not in a hurry."
Cynthia nodded:
"That's true, it's not like the world is ending tomorrow. Since you are making a mystery out of your work, I will tell you about mine."
She made herself more comfortable, inadvertently making her figure more striking and putting her bare legs on display.
"You know I'm in charge of the marketing department of Green industries. They are involved in the transformation of agricultural products. But a trend is taking shape with the higher level of awareness about foods. The market is becoming more particular about what to eat. It is not only about quality, price, and other basic criteria of old anymore, but also about the origin and many other details. Now we have to adjust ourselves, cutting down our suppliers from abroad, and I'm preparing a campaign for…"
Watching Cynthia's passionate explanation, Daemon looked at her truly for what should be the first time. His mind was not elsewhere, and he seemed to discover a more real side to the blond woman, beneath all the veneer she had been showing.
*Ding-dong*
Cynthia was startled by the bell. She turned by to Daemon after looking at the door and hiding her disappointment at the interruption:
"That should be my father."
She stood up, and added:
"Come, we will move to the dining table after I open the door for him."
He left the couch, and it didn't take long for her to come back with a man on the higher side of the middle age's scale. His back was still straight, though, looking ready for any challenge, but he was not in great shape anymore.
At least, his belly was not too obvious, and his hair was not sparse yet.
"Dad, this is Daemon Peak. He is the one who saved me months ago. Because of you, I had to beg him to spare some time away from his work, so don't bother him with one of those long political discourses of yours."
Turning toward Daemon while her father was showing a wry smile with no embarrassment, she continued the introduction:
"Daemon, this is my father, Michael Harsh."
The man showed a wide smile and stretched his hand toward Daemon:
"I have been meaning to meet the savior of my daughter for a long time. Thank you for saving her. If not for you, I don't know how my family would have ended up. Her mother might not have been able to take the pain of losing her only child."
"No need to mention it."
Daemon tried to make the handshake brief, but Harsh held him tight. His eyes showed emotions and firmness:
"No, I need to thank you. Thanks to you, I can make up for some of my mistakes with my daughter."
Cynthia noticed the beginning of a frown on Daemon's face and intervened:
"Dad, let's not keep Daemon hungry. I invited him for dinner, after all."
Harsh seemed to calm down:
"Yes, you are right. Don't mind my outburst, it is just that my wife and I only have this one daughter. If she was not feeling under the weather, she would have come to meet you along with me."
They made their way to the table where a luxurious spread was prepared. Harsh was surprised, because it looked like something homemade:
"Cynthia, did you cook?"
"Dad, no need to mock me. I had it delivered from the restaurant."
"Haha, don't mind me. I was hoping that you took your mother's advice to cultivate another advantage for when you will get married and start a family of your own."
"Dad," she threw a stealthy look at Daemon, "can we talk about something else?"
"Then let's eat first."
Daemon flashed a polite smile as he sat down at the same time as the Harsh family members.