Did... did she just break him?

Oh, this was going to be fun.

She had half expected him to berate her behavior and reiterate the professional nature of their relationship, not combust into a blushing flame right in front of her. If sweet words and playful flirting were enough to make him embarrassed, then she had a feeling he'd have a problem with her business, for sure. She'd need to be more discrete about making her other content, or else she'd worry the poor man would faint from the blood rush just knowing what she was doing. God, this was going to be a disaster. A delightfully chaotic disaster. 

At least this meant he wasn't a complete stiff, and was capable of at least some human emotion other than professional confidence, and if that meant she had to be playful around him more often to see him crack like an egg, then that was a challenge she was willing to accept. Unless he confronted her about it and made her stop, of course, in which case she'd be more concerned about ensuring that her antics didn't cost them their arrangement. As fun as messing around with him might turn out to be, she had to remember the reason they were going to be living together in the first place. Ensure her safety, potentially stop some crazy psycho stalker, and then go back to their normal lives.

Claret couldn't keep the smile from her face, though. She could make the best out of this crazy situation, yet. 

"Sure," she replied, leaning back in her seat to show that she was backing off. She was clearly a bit smug about the effect she had on him. "So when can you move in?"

He was absolutely terrible with phrasing, wasn't he? Or maybe she just had a really, really dirty mind.

Ugh, if she hadn't already pulled her flirt card just now, she'd be half tempted to turn his "have me" statement back on him just to see him crumple in embarrassment, but that would really be way too cruel. She liked messing with people, but she didn't make a habit of torturing them. And if she kept flirting with him, he'd probably end up thinking she was a slut (not that some people didn't already think that as it is).

The option to have him move his stuff over gradually seemed a lot safer and discrete, but then the poor guy would be without a lot of his stuff until he was completely moved over. Well, he could move in some of his stuff immediately, and then other stuff could come in over time. Did he have a lot of stuff? Her home was kind of cluttered, the idea of him bringing a lot of junk felt like a very hectic idea. She could make it work though, maybe reorganize some stuff and set aside a space for him. Yeah, this could work.

"Works for me," she said. "You can pack some of your stuff up and come over tonight or tomorrow morning, and then you can move the rest of your stuff in whenever you want." It sounded like a decent enough arrangement. She'd let him move things in at his leisure-- it's his stuff, not hers, so she wasn't going to nag him about making sure he had all his things at any certain date. If he thought bringing things in over time was a good idea, then she'd roll with it. If not, then at least he could get himself situated right away and be done with it.

"I imagine you want to inspect my home and everything right away, right? You can just move in then." She paused, thinking. "Actually-- if you want to give me the evening to tidy up, you can come over first thing in the morning. You probably need time to pack and everything, too."

Claret felt relieved that he'd thought of the unfortunate predicament where she needed to contact him for help but didn't have the time or safety to send him more than a quick text or a silent call. She'd thought of those kinds of scenarios before, in all those crime dramas where someone's hiding under a bed or in a closet, and couldn't speak to call 911, or they were running and couldn't text a coherent word. Those were all unlikely but very real situations, so she was glad they were on the same page about that much. But he was right-- ideally he'd be around to make sure those situations never enter the realm of possibility.

He'd done a well enough job of reassuring her that he could keep her safe in theory, but she had yet to see if his smarts and skills were actually beneficial in practice. She wanted to trust that he could do his job, they wouldn't be paying him this much otherwise, but that didn't mean a part of her wasn't still somewhat skeptical. Hopefully he never needed to physically defend her from a real threat, and that this whole thing would just blow over like it never happened. She couldn't attest for his skills in self defense or his ability to keep a level head under pressure, but she wanted to trust him. She didn't have a choice.

"I promise I'll be safe. I'm going straight home after this, and I'll text you when I walk in the door if it makes you feel better. I'll send you my address, too." After a moment of contemplation, she finished the rest of her drink.

"Is there anything else we need to talk about while we're both here?"

She figured that since they had gone through some of the more relevant information already, they could talk more tomorrow. He was the one working for her though, if he had any questions, she was more than willing to answer them. They were about to spend a lot of time together.

She could text him. That sounded easy enough-- it wasn't like she wasn't already addicted to social media and her phone, anyway. She had to remember to be vigilant about making sure she stayed in constant contact with him, though a part of her was worried she'd end up being more of an annoyance than anything. Well, she'd be doing what he asked of her, so really he can't fault her for sending him spam if she really wanted to, not that she would. She wouldn't say she was above many things, but she was definitely above spam.

Claret respected his acknowledgement that he was staying in her home and that he would be out of her way as much as possible. Good. That way, she could mess with him and get to know him on her own time and at her own pace, without any unnecessarily awkward pressure. She wanted to know who he was, get a better sense of who the man behind a name like Five really is. The cracks were clearly there-- now all she had to do was smash the rest of the shell. While he was busy trying to protect her and do his job, she'd get to work tearing down all those walls he has up, one by one, one way or another. She just had to be subtle about it, butter him up a little, get him to lower his guard around her. Easy.

"Alright then. Sounds good to me." She'd say, grabbing her purse and standing up. "I'll see you in the morning, Five. Have a good night." She smiled, something sugary and sweet and beaming with affection.

And then she left, just like that, making her way out of the establishment and down a glass elevator, leaving her new bodyguard and her lonely life behind.