"You guys could've invited Keith too if you wanted a double date, y'know?" The young woman quipped with a teasing grin as she took off her sunshades and placed them down.

"Is that so?" Myla replied cold-heartedly.

"Uhuh, right." I seconded her emotion with a less-than-pleased tone and expression.

A moment of silence overtook us as Amanda sat there smiling like a bit of an idiot, a cute idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. It seems she got the hint that we were far from interested in her proposition.

"The cold shoulder, huh?" She broke through the awkward air, "Myla's really begun to rub off on you, Bridger." But instead of backing out, she doubled down on her comments.

What's with everyone and rubbing us together? That's one hell of a frictional story.

She laughed at our exasperation, covering her mouth all lady-like while cackling like a child, contrasting with the very apparent irritation of my dear partner as she sighed.

Even so, the brief moment was a chance to inspect today's wardrobe bathed in the afternoon sun and autumn air.

First was the summer-styled outfit adapted for the fall season, a cotton sleeveless beneath a thin and unbuttoned polo shirt of pastel blue stripes was what Amanda donned. She placed her denim bucket hat down, crossing her baggy pleated jean-covered legs. Her air was, as usual, casual yet brilliantly charming.

Thank you, global warming, for allowing summer outfits to last even into September.

As for Myla, her style remained ever-fashionable and aesthetically impressive. She wore a heavy-looking grey peacoat jacket that sat over her white shirt, whose collar frills had a pattern that intertwined and weaved with her silver locks. And while her jeans were contrastingly simple, knee-high boots cut them in half and completed the ensemble as its set piece.

Oh, you wanna know what I'm wearing? My fashion sense is abysmal, so let's skip over my tacky shirt and tacky coat and tacky pants and-

"I've already ordered a drink, so don't worry about me." Amanda broke me out of my stupor as she spoke, "So, what's with you calling me out here in secret and all." She continued with a curious but friendly tone in her voice.

"What? Don't care for a chat with some friends?"

"Ooooh, acting all vague and cordial. Is this a detective bit?"

"We'd rather not act out any roles, please." Myla stopped her, a string of acting roles having taken its toll on my poor partner.

"Eh? Is that so?" The young woman reacted in surprise, "Sorry for being the theatre kid..." She trailed off with an apologetic laugh with closed eyes.

You were the art kid, though.

White lies in the name of comedy aside, we were here for an actual reason.

"We wouldn't do this without an actual motive, as hard as that might be to believe."

"A day off comes and goes after all," Myla added to reassure her, though along with our casual attire, it seemed to support a different idea in the young woman.

"So you two do go out together on day offs..."

"Please take this a little seriously..." I threw back, realizing how tiring getting relentlessly teased was.

I apologize for my wrongdoings. I'll never make fun of anyone ever again.

White lies for the sake of lying aside - she seemed to entertain our woeful cries, straightening her posture and expression.

"Alright, alright. You promised to pay for my order, so don't worry. I'll hear you guys out. Promise." She finished with a smile to both of us, soothing our worries just a bit.

"Alright, it's best we begin then."

"Once the clipboard comes out, it means business," I commented as Myla prepared to begin our mini-meet with Amanda.

Indeed we had framed today's meeting with Amanda as a covert operation, one of clandestine nature and one where we'd buy her lunch if she came.

"Ah, so we're doing an interview. I see, I see..." She spoke in a whisper, maintaining an optimistic expression even as she only now realized our plan.

It was important that we considered how Amanda felt at this time and throughout the duration of our consultation. In a way, her earlier wisecrack wasn't too far off, as similar to a private investigator interrogating a criminal, we had to make sure we weren't exerting pressure that could sway the answers of our client.

All that meant was we had to ensure whatever was going through her head wasn't clouded by our presence, or else we risked the chance of gaining crucial information. Luckily, judging by her upbeat disposition and willingness to crack jokes, we were so far in the clear.

Even so, we couldn't get complacent. An eagle eye and a velvet glove go hand-in-hand in any successful surveyor outing, and this was no exception.

"Without further ado, let's begin with a few questions." I began, leaning forward and placing my hands together, "Firstly, regarding you and Ke-"

"Ah, hold that thought," She stopped me, still smiling, "I know I said I'd go along with you guys, but I need this clarified." Myla and I awaited an answer from her curled lips, knowing well what was to come.

"If you plan on interviewing me about my relationship, what's up with not having Keith here? You guys told me this would be a meeting without him, but didn't explain now or then? What's up?" And there it was, the most reasonable query to bring up and one we knew would be asked.

It was an obvious question. No couple's counseling is complete without, well, a couple. But to know something is coming is only helpful if you know how to react accordingly.

"You see, we actually have solo interviews with clients every now and then. It's for different reasons, some due to the other being absent, others to gauge a client's thoughts without their partner being present. Today is a little bit of both." I explained, getting an enthused Ohh from Amanda as she placed a finger on her lip in thought.

"Ah, alright then. Keith did mention he was doing some work-related stuff, so I guess that makes sense." She added before another realization hit her, "Wait, does that mean you'll be inviting him out at some point too?"

"Yep, we'll contact him when he's available." My statement prior to this was all true, as we had already gained Keith's insight a week ago during our chat with him.

We have conducted meetings like this in the past, although rarely. They helped in cases where we found it more beneficial for the pair if we heard their separate opinions out first before fixing the situation together. The entire gist of being a surveyor is accepting your work is almost always on a case-by-case basis, which meant that such methods were put into action from time to time.

"Although we won't pay for his food."

"Indeed. This is coming straight out of his paycheck, after all."

"You didn't split my bill?" Amanda asked anxiously with a laugh.

"You mean our bill?" Myla added, taking a satisfied sip of her more than likely now cold drink.

"...I lost the second bet."

"Right! Just peachy, guys! That's enough convincing let's get these questions done, m'kay?" The young woman sensed my misery and, in an act of pity, agreed wholeheartedly to proceed with the interview.

The poor man's act never fails. Both to convince people and destroy my dignity, that is.

"Okay, we've done this a few times now, so let's get the basic stuff outta the way." I began a not-so-formal start to our not-so-formal meeting.

It was what one would expect from a surveyor's visit. Of course, minus the other half of our usual workload. But it did still mean that the nature of our questions, at least to start with, would be near-identical to a couple's counselor.

"Any notable or even trivial fights as of late?" Myla would ask.

"With Keith? Ha! Not at all. Though I almost hit him when he said he didn't like hazelnut ice cream..." Amanda would reply.

I'm pretty sure he's allergic...

"Are you guys getting closer? Emotionally and physically?" I'd shoot.

"Every time we meet, I'd say." And she'd return.

"Would you say you've been enjoying yourselves? Not too much nor too little?" We'd ask.

"Absolutely, and just right too. I even have pics of some of our outings here." She'd reply.

But, be it the circumstances of our elaborate case or the mellow air around us, it felt like just an afternoon chat with an old friend.

"No way, you got seats at the gala? How?" I asked, wide-eyed at the high-class sights on Amanda's phone.

"Oh, one of the many perks of having a partner in high places, Bridger." She responded smugly, placing her device to her lips like a noble does with a fan.

"How does that socially awkward kid get himself there, of all places..."

"Hard work." Myla quickly answered, her phone also in hand, "And besides, it's not as if we're deprived of such luxuries either." She added, placing her device face up with a picture of equal glamour and eloquence.

Amanda could only echo my surprise as she saw our outing to the stunning villa with a certain model in toe. And so the interview continued with a similar lighthearted vibe, less a collection of information and more an exchanging of stories.

Hell, even Myla was starting to warm up to her, as antithetical as that verb might be to my cold-as-can-be partner - a feat Amanda managed in a few appointments and one I've yet to even begin.

"Look, all I'm saying is your client-friend might be able to hook me - or, I mean, us up with some of these clothes, eh? Eh?"

"Declined... Though it might be good for her to be friends with someone like you..." My dear partner's words trailed into whispers, though it wasn't hard to make out the hesitation in her refusal.

Of course, there was a strategy behind all of this. Beginning with general and simplistic questions before slowly focusing and targeting a single topic is applicable to many things and is a staple of surveyor questions.

"Okay, that clears out everything on the list," I exclaimed, checking off another box on the clipboard.

Myla took her signature article before facing Amanda, "As always, thank you for the time."

"Ah, don't be like that!" She remarked, smiling, " It's fun getting to talk to you guys, especially when it also helps keep things stable." She assured us, her drink finally arriving.

As she thanked the server and readied herself to take a sip, it was time to prepare for the second phase of today's operation.

Once she and Myla are done taking photos of the Rube Goldberg-ian milkshake. Seriously, how much did that thing cost?

Moving my gaze from the visual and financial eyesore and recalling the previous strategy, it was time to hone in on the info we actually wanted out of today.

"Oh, a few things before we wanted to clear out before you leave if that's okay."

"The day is young! I don't see why not." She said before plunging a metal straw into the labyrinthian dairy structure and taking a gleeful sip.

"These questions are going off the record. Courtesy of this worrywart." Myla added with a sigh - even though we planned this exchange beforehand, it felt rather genuine.

Well, she did say she didn't want to do any more acting.

"Aww. Sure! Aren't you guys just great at making me feel all special?" She remarked with a tone as sweet as the pancreas-destroying monstrosity before her.

We said we'd pay for lunch, not your euthanasia injection...

"What'd you expect? Our situation is as novel as it gets."

Aha...Novel.

"Anyhow, let's get right to it. Ready for level two?"

"You betcha'."

"Firstly, have you and Keith reached anything you could consider a milestone in your relationship?" Myla began, placing the clipboard down as her subtle way of proving the time for business had passed, even if it had only truly begun.

"Are you implying a baseball-related analogy, Myla?" She asked back in shock before composing herself with a meek and sheepish expression, "I'm but a pure maiden - I'd never."

"...Right." Was the only word Myla could muster in response, "And as for you, at least try to hide it."

"Look, it was funny." And indeed it was - else, why would I be holding back my laughter?

Everyone needs a bit of teasing a Myla Marika in their life.

"Moving on then, would you say Keith over the past few days? Distant, perhaps?" My dear partner powered through, unwilling to submit to Amanda and my sense of humor.

"Nope. The adorable thing's been busy with work, but he still constantly updates me even when I tell him to focus on it. So, in short, still as sweet and fun to mess with as ever." She responded a little more seriously this time.

"That's good to hear," I finally stepped in, "Aside from that, do you think there are any problems not between you, but perhaps personal ones?"

"Ah." She paused with that exclamation upon hearing my query.

Gotcha.

It was impossible to overlook that, and Amanda knew that too - Whether it be a chat between friends or a visit from a surveyor pair, she had to elaborate on it.

"Could you maybe define what you mean by a problem?"

"The fact you're asking us is probably a pretty good indicator."

She chuckled at my response, though it felt as though her earlier joy had waned slightly, "That's true. Well, I guess there has been something of note." She took a quick sip of her drink, perhaps a moment of sweetness to organize her thoughts.

"Well, Keith, as of late, I mean, has been...Spacing out now and then." She began, taking a tiny bit of chocolate from the top of her drink and offering it to Myla, "Though it hasn't been any cause for concern, or at least I don't think it is."

"Has it been a cause for concern?"

"Oh, no, not really." She began, trying her best to relight her smile, "...Though I guess that's a bit of a bad habit of mine, isn't it?"

Her words struck me like an unseen gust of wind. And I don't doubt it hit Myla with a similar surprise. While I still have faith in our apprentice, Amanda's regret-filled remark echoed in my mind - the wordless air feeling heavy even in the clear climate.

"Oh! But I'm not trying to be super negative or anything!" She continued speaking to clarify, "I've also brought it up with him, and he said it was nothing."

"That still doesn't doesn't clear all doubt," Myla replied, though a voice of ice - I could tell she wasn't upset, more concerned.

"That's why I wanted to add we've both been really dedicated to talking about any and all problems we have. It's something I - we're really mindful about." I believed her words as sincerity laced every syllable - even if those very words hurt a wound still closing.

I guess that applies to both of us.

"Well, don't beat yourself up over it." I began, trying my best to recompose and reassure, "Take it from a fellow idiot - you've already improved if you're being open about it - with Keith and us." She remained smiling, though quiet.

"I know it's not much consolation, but you should be proud rather than depressed, m'kay?"

"...Yeah. Thanks." She said, finally rekindling her earlier vigor, "Look at me ruining the mood and all while my drink is going warm." The young woman added, taking another hit to her insulin proficiency.

"But in all honesty, I still think it's probably nothing to agonize over and less an issue and just something he wants to keep to himself, y'know?" In a way, it wasn't wrong to think like that.

Sometimes making a big deal of an insignificant thing is what turns it significant.

"That's true. Everyone deserves privacy, even in the most intimate of relationships."

"Exactly!" Amanda jumped from Myla's statement, "And it might just be some random thing he's been fretting over, right?" All I could do was nod, trying to get back into the earlier lighter swing of things.

I'd like to believe that too, but his actions turn that into more or less a pipe dream.

The two continued their exchanges as I mulled over all the new cards added to our hands. While none were the smoking gun we wanted, it was good to hear that the two were doing fine, even with Keith's temporary venture.

And I guess I got some personal solace from all of this too.

This means unless she lied at any point, we can proceed with our apprentice's plan for a bit longer.

"Alright, now we can actually thank you for the time- Jesus Christ, you managed to finish that thing?"

"Oh?" She asked with stuffed cheeks, "With Myla's help, it was a breeze." She finished the last of the intolerable lactose with a smile and a satisfied thumbs up.

"...I think I've had enough for the day," Myla spoke, covering her mouth with a sickly visage.

"What, sugar?"

"No. Food."

"Oh."

"You're welcome." The charming young woman said, clearly content with her mutual destruction, "With that, then, I'll be taking my leave." Standing up, she also took the empty glass.

"Alright, take care." I bid farewell with a wave.

"Oh, how about you two?"

"We still have to file the report and head back, so you go on ahead."

"Ah, I see." She took my explanation, turning around and beginning to walk to the door of the massive glass wall.

"Enjoy your date then! Bye-bye!" And before we could interject, all we had was the image of her blissfully waving her hand behind her.

I wanted to shout, "Like hell, we will!" and Myla probably something of similar rejection but far more eloquent. But the weight of social etiquette weighed heavily on the shoulders of the modern adult.

"...We got a lot more than we bargained for. And at the same time, very little." My dear partner decided to break the silence left by our client, a small attempt at small talk while knowing full well neither of us had any reason to be here anymore

"Yep." And so we sat there like headless chickens, perhaps also to make sure our client had left before we did to avoid any issues.

Or because the air is thick with "Uh, now what?" energy.

"...So, do you wanna head to check out the bookstore before we leave?"

"Sure." And with her cold reply, we were done.