Monday evening was upon him at last. Which meant Johnathan was doing his best not to hyperventilate. Even if Grace had said things were still platonic he knew his father didn’t want that and... well, maybe the dinner was still a step towards them moving on towards something vaguely romantic?

To try to make a good impression, he’d invited Grace to the country club that his family owned, not far from Flagstaff (convenient, since that was where Grace was living). Of course, that then meant that the staff would probably be reporting back to his father on how things went, but it was a small price to pay for the quality of food they’d get. He had it on good authority that their club had the best food in Northern Arizona. 

Riding in the back of the car as the chauffeur drove him over, Johnathan tried to practice some conversation tips. Going by the face the driver was making as he said them they weren’t very good, though. So he decided to give up and just play things natural, hoping that wouldn’t go too poorly.

“She already knows you, Johnny,” the driver said, as they pulled into the club. “You don’t have to worry so much.”

“I guess,” he mumbled as they parked. “Well... thanks for the support.”

It was then a short walk through the surprisingly brisk evening air from the parking spot to the entrance of the club. He felt slightly strangled by his tie, and wondered if he’d done it up too tight. Stepping into the foyer, a staff member greeted him and he offered a small nod while fiddling with the tie. How loose was too loose? That was something he should have run past his stylist at some point, but tonight was not the night for it. The man wasn’t exactly on call. He had loads of other clients.

As such, Johnathan had nothing better to do that stress over minutiae for a few minutes until Grace walked into view. She was wearing a well tailored three-piece suit that hugged her muscular frame just enough to leave Johnathan’s jaw on the floor and his cheeks so hot he was sure that the blush had to be visible. 

“Evening,” she said with a small smile.

Johnathan nodded for a few moments, before remembering humans were supposed to speak during conversations. “Evening. Yes. Good evening. How are you? You look good. Amazing really.”

Smiling, Grace tapped him on the nose with her finger. “Thank you. You look cute yourself.”

“Mhmph... th--thanks,” he mumbled, taking another moment to catch his breath. “The, um... the private room is this way.”

“Oooh. Fancy,” Grace replied, following him along wood paneled walls that managed to look Victorian despite the buildings only dating to the 1960s.

They mostly avoided the attention of other guests. It wasn’t a place Johnathan went very often, so fairly few people were likely to recognise him. Unlike his father or grandfather. Especially the latter, John J. Preston II basically lived at the club most days. Today wasn’t one of the days he was around, though, which was a relief for Johnathan.

Well, not physically around. The private Preston room had the various photographs of patriarchs of the family on display inside it. Joseph Preston and then Johns I through III. Johnathan vaguely hoped his sister would manage to take over the family business enough that he’d never have to pose for one of those stuffy photos and be stared at by future generations. 

“Huh,” Grace said, her eyes lingering on Johnathan’s great grandfather and great great grandfather. “They’re...”

“White?” Johnathan offered.

“Um... I was lookin’ for a better way to word it, but... yeah,” she replied, looking a bit bashful.

“Mhm. The family was. Great grandpa married a Cuban beauty queen, and it then turned out she was the lightest person in her family, so grandpa ended up looking quite... Latin. He also grew up to be a bit of a hippy, which didn’t reflect well on a family in the arms business, so he got shipped off to London for a bit. While he was there he met a supermodel... of Ethiopian descent. Then, well, you’ve seen my mom.”

That got a strong nod from Grace, which reminded Johnathan just how much of his mother Grace had seen.

“So, a mum and a gran that are supermodels. No surprise you turned out as cute as you did,” she said with a charming grin. 

Was that flirting? It felt like flirting.

Though, also not like something you’d say to a guy?

Confused about how to respond, Johnathan decided to instead take the lead by sitting down. Grace followed, taking the seat across from him at the table and grabbing one of the menus set out. Already knowing what he was going to order (he’d found his favourite ages ago) he used the moment to try to stealthily watch Grace as she looked over the menu. Her expressions proved slightly odd as she studied it more intently than he’d expected. At a few points she mumbles something under her breath, before finally speaking up loud enough for him to hear.

“Kind of limited for vegetarian options,” she said quietly.

“Oh. You’re... you’re vegetarian?” he replied, feeling surprised. 

She was just so... muscular. Surely that took a lot of protein.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s me. Lots of protein supplements,” she replied, apparently reading the surprise on his face. “Very... strict about it, too. No gelatine... or rennet cheeses, I think... I’ve heard arguments either way on those.”

“Rennet... cheeses?” he asked, having never heard about that.

“They use a bit of the animal’s... uh, I think it’s the stomach? Something like that. There’s chemicals there that help with making cheese. Ya can do plant based options too, but... rennet is the traditional one for a lot a’ cheeses,” she explained. “D’ya think I could get a salad with some extra hard-boiled eggs?”

“You can get anything we have ingredients for,” Johnathan replied, while feeling slightly disturbed by the concept of stomach bits being used to make cheese. 

Using organs in food just seemed so gross to him. Even if his mother and grandmother both said that it was a very American squeamishness.

“Ace. I’ll do that, then,” Grace replied, setting her menu down. “Uh... when’ll a waiter come by to check on us?”

“Right about... now,” Johnathan said as the door opened.

The room had video only security cameras, a waiter on the ready as soon as they put their menus down. Only for Johnathan to realise he didn’t want to do his usual turkey club order in front of Grace if she was vegetarian. Panicking, he decided to ask for the tomato soup with a side of garlic bread instead (the first two vegetarian items to enter his brain). The waiter raised an eyebrow at the unusual order, but said nothing.

“You... you don’t have to eat veggie just because I’m eating veggie,” Grace said, making him feel slightly embarrassed. 

“It just... it felt rude? But, good to know in future,” he replied.

Having already flubbed things slightly, he decided to try to play it safe and just ask her how her business was going. It surprised him to learn she’d only just moved to Flagstaff a couple weeks before being hired by his father. The rest of her customer base was still a bit thin, but a Preston family paycheque went a long way. She also saved some money by doing home visits and not needing a studio.

The vague generalities of business lasted them until the food arrived. Then, as soon as the waiter had left, Grace jumped in with a question she’d apparently been struggling to hold back.

“So, like, is there a Moon base or a Mars base?”

Blinking, Johnathan found himself awkwardly frozen, spoon in hand. “Uhh...”

“Oh. That’s too classified, isn’t it? Sorry. I just had to know,” she mumbled.

“No. No. It’s... that’s fine. It just surprised me. Anyway, I don’t have access to anything top secret, and dad’s pretty good at being tight lipped, but some of his guests chat a bit when they’re drunk and... as far as I understand it what happened was the Corporate Alliance folks contacted the US after the moon landing and offered various benefits if Washington signed over leasing rights to the rest of the solar system and stopped sending people out there. So, yeah. What you see for space travel is really the maximum we’ve done. The big press releases a couple years back were most of the truth.”

“Huh. That’s a bit disappointing,” Grace muttered, poking at her salad. “Well... do you think I’ll get to meet any aliens, working with your family? That would be great bragging rights.”

“Ah... Probably. Especially if you stick around during the evening when dad has business partners over. Some of those are aliens,” Johnathan replied. “Just... don’t be embarrassing in front of them. The Corporate Alliance doesn’t care about that Empress Svetlana woman and, if anything, use that whole monarchy junk as a reason to think we humans need to be reminded how primitive we are. So it’s all very ‘yes sir, thank you ma’am, I’m honored your grace’.”

“Huh. Surprised to hear rich Yanks can manage that... uh, no offence to you. But, your dad and guys like him...” Grace said.

“Oh, yeah. They hate it. Part of why dad is so successful lately is he got used to putting on that sort of fake politeness when he was younger, while the White guys he competes with very much aren’t,” Johnathan replied.

“And, speakin’ of the family business: is that what you plan t’ do with yourself?” Grace asked, after swallowing a mouthful of salad.

“Oh. No. Not if I can avoid it. Especially when you think about what the family business really is... designing and selling all sorts of terrifying ways to murder people,” Johnathan said, shivering slightly. It seemed the answer was a relief to Grace. “I’ll stick to art, thank you very much.”

“You do art?” Grace asked. “Could I see some?”

The question left Johnathan feeling a bit flushed. “Er... I guess? It’s all back at home, but... tomorrow, after the workout, maybe?”

“That sounds nice.”

---

The rest of the dinner conversation was similarly vague nothings. Now and again Grace showed a bit of curiosity in Johnathan’s father’s business and schedule, and a little about his sister. That might have been a bit odd if she hadn’t also asked plenty about his mother, proving she was just curious about the family in general. In fact, Tecla Preston may have been her main focus, as she dropped a few offers to take over his mother’s personal training. The offer was also made for Judith, though she was home rather less often.

Other than that, it was mostly simply an enjoyable bit of time spent with someone who wasn’t family or Johnathan’s rather trash high school friends. Sure, from time to time he’d remember how gorgeous Grace was, especially in a suit, and feel frazzled for a few minutes, but she was generally good at being relaxed and pleasant to spend time with. To the point he wanted to do it more... hopefully in less formal surroundings. This was the good first impression. He hoped they could just hang out and grab cheap comfort food in future.

---

Coming home from another art lesson (his tutor insisting he was guaranteed to get into Cali-Arts on the next application date), Johnathan hurried towards his room. Not only did he want to get changed to be ready for his workouts, but he also wanted to get his sketchbooks in order. The most artsy and proper one on top. The most self indulgent one hidden in his closet.

The offending book was freshly stashed away when a knock on the door surprised him. Hurrying over to the door, he knew it wasn’t his father (the knock was too soft and polite for that) but couldn’t guess who it might be or what they wanted. Finding Maria in the hallway (she was one of the maids he knew a bit better) only answered half his questions.

“Hello, Maria. Is everything alright?” he asked.

She made a small nod. “I am well enough, señorito Johnathan, but... may we speak in private?”

“Uh, sure?” he replied, stepping out of the way to let her in. 

The maid was looking rather self conscious, biting her lip as she walked in. Even after he closed the door she still seemed to need a few moments to build up her courage to speak.

“I was cleaning your chambers today, Johnathan,” she said in a soft voice. “The one drawer of your desk was not closed and I... I saw those bottles you have in there.”

The news hit like a blow to the gut. At least Maria was pretty reasonable, so it was more of a warning than a disaster.

“Oh... um, can you not tell my father? I’m pretty sure he’d be disappointed in me,” Johnathan replied, not wanting to know what his father would say about him cheating to bulk up faster.

“Of--of course. I have a niece... well, just know that if want someone to talk to about it, I am here for you,” Maria replied.

Having no idea what she was talking about, Johnathan took a moment to decide to nod. “Thank you?”

That seemed like the right thing to say. Probably. It made Maria smile and then excuse herself, so it seemed like it was right. Watching the now closed door, Johnathan had to wonder what Maria’s niece could have had to do with anything. Was she a bodybuilder or something?

If she was, then maybe Johnathan should try asking more about her. 

Another time, though. He had a workout session to get ready for.

---

They were starting to use weights more in the training sessions. Since Johnathan was a bit more concerned about aesthetics for the moment, that meant they were focusing more on fewer reps with heavier weights. The end result was thoroughly exhausting. It was a good thing that microwaving some frozen food for dinner would take minimal effort, because he was going to want to use his arms the absolute minimum number of times for the rest of the day.

However, leading Grace up to his room he more felt his heart beating in his throat than the noodliness of his arms. Why had he decided it was a good idea to let Grace see his art? It was so embarrassing... or, at least, it left him vulnerable. There was a chance she’d be impressed and it would pay off, but if it didn’t how would he recover?

Unfortunately, it was too late for him to reverse course, so he had to let Grace into his room to go see. Also, to see his manga, comics, and art book collection. Which was embarrassing enough. She’d probably see all the Power-Woman and She-Tank comics, which even a non-nerd could probably judge. 

“Woah, nice. You’ve got a whole library of comics,” Grace said, throwing him for a loop as she headed over to poke through them a bit. “I’ve never really been able to keep up with comics... too many different continuities, so I just grab an issue here and there. I’ve always been impressed by people who can, though... Oh! Is that the Hana Wars manga? And Special Toxic Disposal Squad? Nice! I didn’t know they officially translated either of them.”

Blinking, it took Johnathan a few moments to process that a cool and athletic woman like Grace was actually excited about the collection. Especially that she could recognise somewhat obscure manga.

“Er, they’re the Japanese editions, actually... my Japanese isn’t great, but I can sort of read them?” he replied.

“You know Japanese? Ace!” Grace said, grinning away. “Right. Your art. That’s what I was here t’see. Are those the sketchbooks?”

“Uh, yes. Yeah,” Johnathan replied, now completely unsure what to expect as Grace’s reaction.

Watching her face as she flipped through a few pages, it seemed like she was generally impressed. That was good. 

“Proper corker of a sketch here,” she said, leaning to show one that he was rather proud of, but... had also forgotten was in there, as it was a nude life drawing.

“Th-thanks,” he mumbled, his cheeks hot.

Before any more embarrassment could hit him there was another knock on his door. This one was rather more forceful than Maria’s had been, though it didn’t match his father’s usual knock. Which left one likely option, that proved correct when Johnathan opened the door: security.

“Hello, sir,” the suited and sunglassed man said with a small nod that may have been the vestigial descendant of a bow. “Have you noticed any suspicious persons about?”

“Um... no? It’s just me and Grace in here,” he replied.

“Oh,” the guard said, blushing slightly. “I didn’t mean to disturb you two. I hadn’t realised you were...”

Grace popped her head around the corner that separated the door from the main bedroom area. “Don’t worry. I’m just taking a look at some of Johnny’s art.”

“Ah,” the man said, before a realization seemed to dawn on his face. “You... your lesson started at about 1pm, did it not?”

“It did,” Johnathan replied, slightly confused.

“That was only a few minutes before the first firewall alert was logged,” the guard said, seeming to grow deeper into thought. Though Johnathan was also starting to sense some hostility off of him.

“Oh! It might be my new hearing aid,” Grace said, pointing to her ear. “The little rooter is wifi and blue-e compatible... but constantly tries to connect to things it shouldn’t sometimes.”

“That seems unlikely to be the issue, ma’am,” the guard said, something confrontational in his voice now. “This was rather deeper than a simple wireless ping.”

Johnathan wasn’t quite sure why. Surely Grace had been there enough times without any issues to be free of suspicion?

“Oh fu...” she began, trailing off before a thought occurred to her. “I must have gotten a virus on it.”

“It would have to be an alien virus to have broken through our outer firewall layers. We have Corporate Alliance engineers on contract. No Earth virus would stand a chance,” the man explained.

Grace’s face flushed with embarrassment, before she mumbled, “I... could guess where I...mhrm... where I got an alien virus from.”

There was a moment of silence as both Johnathan and the guard realised the sort of website that was likely to give one a virus and also result in a blush like Grace was wearing.

“Ah. Yes... that would... that would probably do it. Please practice better digital caution before bringing any wireless capable devices to the Preston Estate in future, ma’am,” the guard said, seeming satisfied by the embarrassing reveal. “We would be happy to wipe the virus for you now, though.”

“Actually, I’ve got a friend in town who’s right into computers. She’d probably love to try to take it apart herself and would be disappointed if I didn’t let her,” Grace explained.

The guard nodded, before excusing himself. Once the door was closed and the guard had clearly left earshot, Grace muttered a number of profanities under her breath. It seemed the whole matter had stressed her out more than Johnathan had realised. That made sense, though. The very Men in Black looking guards were probably very intimidating to anyone who wasn’t on the list of people they were supposed to protect.

They were intimidating enough to Johnathan.