Year End Mystery

"Back," Irene said, announcing herself more as if she had returned from a pause in a boardroom meeting rather than lazing and lounging around her own home. "Didn't make you wait too long, did I?" 

I was on one of her fleece white sofas, both hands clutching both sides of a bubbling soda can, sitting there on my bestest, stiffest behavior waiting in line for my eight o'clock interview or something. 

For the better part of five minutes I stayed that way, kept only in company by the periodic chimes and dings of some other brave guy feeling especially lucky tonight. 

"I'm good, I was just…" I took a sip from the can, nudging my head somewhere, anywhere, probably everywhere. "...admiring your aesthetics. You live pretty cozy." 

"I disagree, but thanks nonetheless," she said coolly. "No one's ever said that about my place before." 

"Have you even brought anybody else to your place before?" 

"Nope."