After Jeremy left Tempest Studios behind, the first thing he did was to call Laura to tell her what happened. The hacker was intrigued but also a little worried, almost as if she already knew that trouble was on the way.

“Dinner, huh? Try not to get too carried away, Don Juan!” she said.

“It’s not like that. It’s just business. Don’t tell me you’re jealous!”

“Who? Me?” she scoffed. “No, silly. I just want you to be careful. From the way you described your interaction, it’s obvious she’s a player, but you still don’t know the rules of the game she’s playing. Tread lightly so you don’t get burned.”

“I think I can handle a savvy businesswoman, Laura.” he defended himself as if she had just insulted his masculinity. 

“How about being handled by one? There’s more to this invitation than meets the eye, Jeremy. Promise me you’ll be on your guard.”

“Okay, I promise, but what got your Spider-Sense all tingled up? Can you at least tell me that?”

“No. I’m still looking into it. It could be nothing so I don’t want to alarm you more than I should. Just remember I’ll always have your back no matter what, okay?”

He had never doubted that for a second but it was still strange to hear her say that, and with a somber tone to boot. Laura was not the kind of woman to get swept away by any form of negativity or fatalism, so what had changed in the last couple of days? Could it be that the spirit of the legend was getting under her skin and The Black Queen was becoming too real in her mind as well? He recalled some accounts he read online and how the power of suggestion made people start seeing things that weren’t there. As crazy as it sounded, he had felt the same when he had that weird dream, so who could tell for sure?

“I know that, and thank you,” he said. “You are the best.”

“Okay, stud. Good luck. I’ll try not to bother you but you should keep your phone on the ready just in case…”

“Will do.”

After he hung up, Jeremy returned home to take a shower and change into a fresh set of clothes. He had no idea where they were going that evening but he imagined some place fancy and he needed not only to look the part but also play it as well.

Jeremy rummaged through his wardrobe, his fingers dancing over the various fabrics in search of the perfect attire for the mysterious dinner invitation. After a few moments of deliberation, he settled on a tailored navy blue suit that hugged his frame just right, accentuating his broad shoulders, while the trousers draped elegantly over polished leather shoes. The jacket was adorned with a subtle pinstripe pattern that added a touch of sophistication, and the crisp white shirt he chose contrasted against the dark hues of the rest of the ensemble.

He complemented it with a sleek black tie with a subtle sheen that caught the light as he moved and a pair of silver cufflinks at his wrists. The result was classy without being over powering and he felt comfortable in his own skin like he hadn’t done so in a long time.

At around 8 pm, a black limo parked right outside his house. Deirdre, who had done as much research on him as he had done on her, had insisted to be the one to pick him up, and when he asked her if she needed the address, she replied with a wink, saying, “Oh, that won’t be necessary, thank you.” Laura was right. He didn’t know what game she was playing yet but it was obvious she liked to be in charge.

Jeremy stepped outside and walked towards the impressive vehicle. It was a long obsidian beast that had been polished to perfection and reflected the around it in distorted, dreamlike waves. The chauffeur stood by the door, a tall man also clad in black that almost blended with the limo.

As Jeremy approached, the door slid open, revealing the luxurious interior. Plush leather seats beckoned him to sink into their comfort while crystal glassware sparkled from a small bar nestled in one of the many compartments scattered around. He peeked inside and saw her smiling at him.

Deirdre sat with her legs crossed, commanding the space with her natural sexiness. She looked stunning in a form-fitting dress of Chinese inspiration whose striking violet color matched her eyes. Both her nails and toes were painted the same and there was even a hint of it on the vertiginous heels she had chosen for their night out. Walking in them seemed like a nightmare but not one she had to endure for long. 

“You clean up very well, Jeremy,” she purred, her tone dripping with honeyed charm. “I hope you don’t mind the extravagance. I have a weakness for the finer things in life.”

“I can’t say I blame you considering how much money DarkSands brings in every month,” he replied, sitting next to her. “This is very nice.”

“I’m glad you like it. I spared no expense to make this a memorable experience for both of us,” she motioned the chauffeur to close the door and get them on their way.

“How memorable are we talking about?” he arched an eyebrow, his guard still up despite the opulent setting.

“That’s a surprise, my dear. You do like surprises, I hope.”

“It depends on where they lead me, but I appreciate luxury as much as the next person.”

She laughed, a melodious sound that crept up his spine and lingered there for a moment. “Good, because you have seen nothing yet.”

“Oh? Now you got me even more intrigued.Care to tell me more?”

“All in good time, Jeremy. For now, let’s enjoy the ride.” With a nod to the chauffeur, the limo purred to life and merged into traffic. 

As they glided through the city streets, Deirdre leaned back in her seat, her gaze fixed on Jeremy. She looked at him with a combination of curiosity and amusement that made him uneasy. There was an intensity in her eyes that hinted at a depth he had yet to uncover, and he couldn’t shake the impression that he was being evaluated. In return, he often stole glances at her legs and as much as he tried not to think about her beauty, it was almost impossible to resist. Things were not off to a good start if he wanted to be at the top of his game. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead.

“Nervous, Jeremy?” she asked.

“Just wondering what the evening has in store, that’s all.”

“The only thing I can say for now is that I promise it will be pleasant.”

“Then I’ll take your word for it,” he nodded.

About fifteen minutes later, the limo came to a stop in front of an upscale restaurant bathed in warm golden light. A valet opened the door for them and Deirdre exited the vehicle followed by her curious guest. He recognized the stylized arches of Vittorio’s right away and chuckled to himself. One of the most sought-out places in the city, it was off-limits to anyone without a reservation and the waiting period for one was counted in months, not days. He looked at her bemused expression and asked,

“You already had a reservation for the evening, right?”

“No,” she turned to take his arm. “I made a phone call after you left. The chef and me go a way long back.”

“Impressive!”

“Like I said, you have seen nothing yet.”

She was right. What he knew of Vittorio’s boiled down to a couple of online articles and a few images here and there, but they painted an incomplete picture  of the sheer magnificence that was found inside.

It was a haven of elegance. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings casting a warm glow over the polished marble floors. Black velvet curtains framed the large windows, through which the city lights twinkled like stars in the night sky and the walls were adorned with paintings by renowned artists most of them abstract yet impossible to ignore. 

Waiters in crisp black and white uniforms glided between tables, attending to the needs of the diners with silent efficiency. The air was filled with tantalizing scents of garlic, truffles, and saffron, promising a culinary experience unlike any other.

Deirdre led Jeremy through the maze of tables to a secluded corner booth away from prying eyes. The table was set with gleaming silverware and delicate china, a single red rose placed in a crystal vase at its center. As they settled into their seats, Jeremy was still in shock at everything he had seen.

A sommelier approached their table, his demeanor as polished as the gleaming wine glasses he carried. Deirdre exchanged a few quiet words with him, and soon a bottle of vintage red wine appeared, its deep burgundy hue catching the light in dazzling swirls. As the sommelier poured them each a glass, Jeremy glanced at his phone. Only half an hour had passed and yet it seemed way longer as if Time had stopped making sense in Deirdre’s world.

“To unexpected encounters,” she said, clinking her glass against his before taking a sip of the rich wine.

“To the Black Queen!” he replied as if trying to remind himself of the reason he was there. 

“Ah, yes… your article,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Do we need to talk about that now?”

“You said you’d answer my questions if I joined you, Deirdre. I’ve kept my part of the bargain so how about you keep yours?”

“I said I’d do it over a good meal and a bottle of wine, Jeremy, and we haven’t even eaten yet,” she pointed at the shiny menu in front of her. “I don’t know about you but I’m already feeling peckish. Shall we?”

“Hmph… What’s good around here?”

“Look around, Jeremy,” she said. “Everything is to die for.”

He took the menu to himself and started perusing the array of exotic dishes that Vittorio’s had to offer.

One item caught his attention - “Dragon’s Breath Soup.” Rumored to be a delicacy from a far-off land, the soup was said to be so spicy that it could make one breathe fire like a dragon. Jeremy couldn’t help but be intrigued by such a bold and daring dish.

Next on the menu was the “Phoenix Nest Pasta,” a dish that promised to be as stunning as it was delicious. Made with strands of saffron-infused pasta shaped into a delicate nest, it was topped with tender pieces of grilled chicken and garnished with edible flowers that shimmered like jewels under the chandeliers’ light.

Then there was the “Mermaid’s Treasure Salad,” a refreshing mix of sea greens, exotic fruits, and plump pearls of caviar, all drizzled with a tangy citrus vinaigrette. The description alone made Jeremy’s mouth water, and he couldn’t wait to see what other culinary marvels awaited them.

After much deliberation and consultation with the waiter, they placed their order. As they waited for their food to arrive, Deirdre leaned in closer, her voice low and conspiratorial.

“A promise is a promise. Ask away but for every question I answer, I want you to do the same for me. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“You may begin then. What’s your first question?”

Jeremy placed his phone on the edge of the table and turned on the built-in recorder. 

“How did you find out you had inspired the creation of the character?”

“A friend of mine at the time read Simon’s first story and said she looked a lot like me. She was right.”

“Did you ever confront him about it?”

“Easy there, Jeremy. It’s my turn to ask,” she smirked.

“You’re right,” he leaned backwards. “What do you want to know?”

“What do you think about the stories?”

“You already asked me that in your office today and I said my feelings about them are…”

“… irrelevant. Yes, I know, but you don’t need to be coy about it anymore. Tell me what you feel. Is the Black Queen an intriguing character or not?”

“Going by your rules, that also counts as a second question, so it’s my turn again,” he tapped his foot under the table.

“Touché. And the answer to that second question is no, I never talked to him about them because it didn’t seem important. Yes, she shared some traits with me but everything about the tales was just a fantasy gone wild. I’m a big girl and I can tell fantasy from from reality. The stories didn’t bother me then and they still don’t do it now.”

“Fair enough.”

“Answer mine now, then. Honest thoughts about the character, please.”

“But why?” he asked, unsure of what point she was trying to make.”

“Indulge me.” she batted her long eyelashes.

“Okay,” Jeremy shrugged. “I think she’s over the top. She’s portrayed as a sexy and intelligent character but some of her mannerisms don’t sit well with me, and don’t get me started on her plan for world domination. It’s just bonkers!”

“Agreed. Simon always had a tendency to exaggerate things and allowed his worst instincts to come to life in those tales. Can you imagine if anyone tried to do half of the things described in them? How absurd would that be?”

“More than I can say and yet the stories thrived. People latched on to them and made them grow. Why do you think that happened?”

“Just so we’re clear, is that your third question?”

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

“I don’t know, Jeremy. Popularity is not something that’s easy to explain. Sometimes, it’s because things are great and other times, it’s just a matter of being in the right place at the right time. I guess he reached a couple of kindred souls and got lucky they spread the word. I doubt he ever thought things would get this far.”

“You’re right, he didn’t. The way everything evolved was a shock and he’s been trying to distance himself from it ever since.”

“Did he tell you why?”

“Is that your third question as well, Deirdre?”

“Yes, Jeremy, it is.”

“He told me the stories served their purpose. When it was exhausted, he moved on to something else and no longer related to the things that came after. It’s no longer his world to play in.”

“Different times, different priorities… I can understand that. I hope he’s happy now.”

“He will be when I’m done digging up the past. Once the story is out, it will be like a rebirth to him.”

“I see. Thank you for that, Jeremy. It was most enlightening.”

“I’m not done yet, Deirdre.”

“Oh, neither am I,” she said. “But our food is here,” she pointed at the two waiters heading their way. “Let’s eat.”

* * *

Meanwhile, Laura was sitting in front of her computer, working on a hunch. It was a crazy idea but so was everything pertaining to the legend of the Black Queen. Energy drink in hand and fierceness in her eyes, she logged in to DarkSands…

((to be continued))