by Vienna Vixen
Methodically.
It was stupid to think I could get away with it.
“I’m a man of my word, Bianca,” he said, suddenly, his voice ringing sincerity.
“Okay,” I dragged the syllable out, unsure of where he was getting. Before he could clarify, the door swung open, and I almost jumped backwards in surprise. Hunter was between the door and I in an instant, and he held it firmly in his hand.
If he hadn’t, my face probably would’ve been a punching bag, but Hunter didn’t even break a sweat nor bat an eye. As if this was a regular occurrence for him. I darted a glance in his direction and mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’.
Hunter gave a small imperceptible nod.
The manager popped in front of us and began to apologize profusely and offered to pay for both our dinners to make up for what happened, but we both insisted that it wasn’t necessary. He stood for another minute droning on about door mechanics and sweating like crazy.
Hunter clapped him on the back, officially silencing him. I gave him a small smile, shot Hunter a quick look and hurriedly made my way through the crowd back to my table. I gave a startled gasp when a hand on my shoulder spun me around, and I was face to face with Hunter.
“People are looking,” I reminded him, quietly as I tried to lean away from me. He had his arms around me, so I was caged, but it felt oddly comforting although we were already drawing a few glances.
“Let them look,” he said, dismissively. “I’m more interested in what you think, and why you’re running away from something that you want.”
I craned my neck to look at him. “I’m not running away from something I want.”
The lie escaped my lips too easily, too smoothly, and he narrowed his eyes in response.
“I’m not asking you to spill all your secrets, Bianca, but when I confront you with something, please don’t lie to me.”
“Let me go, Hunter. This isn’t the time nor the place,” I pleaded as I spotted Evan eyeing us out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t look overly worried, just slightly concerned, but that was it.
Hunter released a breath and loosened his hold. “Okay, but we will continue this conversation. It isn’t over.”
I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know what to say. I just took a step back and kept walking backwards till I reached my table. He never took his eyes off of me the entire time, and I didn’t look away either.
It was pointless, but I still did it.
I sighed and plopped down into my seat. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay.” Evan waved my apology away. “I was about to send the national guard after you. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just that the door to the bathroom was jammed, and this guy and I couldn’t get out.”
“That’s a terrible ordeal,” Evan offered sympathetically. “Well, I did ask the waiter to wait for a bit before he served the food.”
“Oh,” I said, stunned.
Well, it was a thoughtful thing to do, but it wasn’t what I expected, nor what I wanted.
I was hoping for some concern, sympathy, or even a little bit of jealousy. For Christ’s sake, I just told him I’d been locked in a restroom for about an hour with another guy. Add in the fact that this guy and I were having a heated exchange right in front of him, but Evan wasn’t even batting an eye.
“Err, thanks.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as I rummaged around in my purse for nothing in particular. I was just trying to hide my face.
He hadn’t even noticed the shirt.
Oh, well.
*****
“How did the date go?”
My hand flew to my chest where my heart was jumping around wildly.
“Jesus, don’t just sneak up on me like that,” I told Ariana as I wheeled around to face her.
“Sorry,” she quipped, but she didn’t look apologetic, just excited as she bounced on her feet.
“Why are so you energetic?”
“I might’ve had a bit too much coffee while I was waiting for you,” Ariana admitted as her eyes darted around the room like a ping pong ball.
Ariana was one of those rare adults who was heavily affected by caffeine. It was why she tended to avoid it. It turned her into a little kid on a sugar high.
I shook my head. “How many cups?”
“One,” she responded, innocently.
“Plus?”
“Four,” She let her hair fall like a curtain in front of her face as she smiled eagerly. “So, tell me, how did it go?”
“It went alright,” I began to shrug out of my sweater. Ariana’s eyes widened into saucers when she took in what I was wearing.
“Wait a second, what happened to your top?” she asked, confused before understanding dawned on her face, and she grinned wickedly. “You didn’t! You fooled around with Evan on the second date?”
I immediately whipped my head from side to side. “No, a waiter spilled food all over the front of my blouse.”
Ariana studied me carefully as she raised an eyebrow. “If that’s true, why is there a hickey on your neck?”
My hands flew to my throat, and they widened dramatically. “Seriously? I’m going to kill him for this.”
“Aha! So you did make out with him. Why are you hiding that? That’s a good thing, right? Especially considering his response has been less than enthusiastic.”
“Well, I guess,” I hesitated as I swung the refrigerator door open and rummaged around.
“Bianca,” Ariana called out from behind me.
“Hmm?” I called over my shoulder.
“Stop trying to change the subject,” Ariana sing-songed. “Sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes love then comes marriage then comes...”
“Ariana with my foot up her ass,” I added as I spun around to face her, torn between amusement and exasperation.
Ariana stopped mid song, and scowled. “You stole my thunder, and that’s not how the song goes.”
I eyed her over the rim of my ice cream. “Uh-huh.”
“Alright, alright.” I dragged my hands over my face. “It wasn’t Evan. He didn’t seem keen on the date, which is strange considering he asked me out.”
“Wait, wait, back up. You went on a date with Evan and made out with another guy? You bad girl you.” She slapped my hand and shrieked in delight.
“Why are you so happy about this, Ariana? This is a bad thing.”
“You’re not in a relationship with Evan, and besides, you’re the one who said he wasn’t into it.”
“That doesn’t excuse making out with another guy in the bathroom,” I pointed out as I sighed deeply and crossed one leg over the other.
“And in the bathroom too?” Ariana raised an eyebrow as she leaned against the counter. “How drunk are you?”
“I’m not drunk at all actually.” I tore my gaze away and pretended to be busy digging my spoon into the ice cream.
“That wouldn’t explain why.” Ariana sounded confused as she tried to piece together my love life. Well, I wished her luck with that because if I couldn’t do it then I very much doubted she could.
“It just happened.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “I didn’t plan it obviously. You know I’m not that person.”
Ariana held her hands up in a soothing gesture. “Whoa, hey relax, Bianca. Nobody accused you of anything. I think that’s just your guilty conscience talking.”
I laughed shakily as I braced my hands on either side of the counter. “Yeah, I guess so, but believe me, I have no idea how it got out of control so fast. He wasn’t even supposed to be there.”
“Evan, or make out guy?”
“Make out guy,” I responded, promptly.
“Let’s take this to the living room, I feel like propping my feet up,” I announced as I side stepped around the counter and made a beeline for the couch. I plopped onto it, lifted my feet up, and a groan of satisfaction escaped my lips.
The couch shifted under Ariana’s weight as she lean
ed back and eyed me speculatively. “So make out guy follows you into the bathroom, and somehow you end up all over each other?”
I blushed as I ducked my head. “It wasn’t quite like that no. It was one of those unisex bathrooms, and I forgot to lock the door, so he walked in while I was in the middle of cleaning up my shirt….”
Ariana held up her hand and made a face. “Hold it, this sounds like the intro to some really bad porno.”
A choked laugh escaped my lips. “Yeah. It kind of does, doesn’t it? Damn, when did my life turn into a dirty cliché?”
Ariana chuckled. “Around the time you started denying yourself one of the basic pleasures of life.”
“What pleasure would that be?” I scooped up a huge helping of ice cream and sighed as it melted on my lips.
“Sex, duh. I mean, come on. If you approached it with the same gusto as you did the ice cream you’re eating right now, things would be a lot simpler,” Ariana reasoned. “Don’t you think?”
I shrugged. “Maybe, I don’t know.”
“Well since you don’t then let me be your guide. Your Jiminy Cricket if you will,” Ariana added with a dramatic flourish.
I snorted. “Exactly what kind of conscience would you be?”
“The best kind of course.”
“Yeah, right,” I mumbled.
“Hang on a second, so you made out with a guy in a bathroom, and you don’t even know his name?”
I swallowed back the ice cream, and my tongue darted out to lick my suddenly dry lips. “No, I know his name.”
“Well?” Ariana prompted.
“Hunter.”
“He has the same name as the guy we met—” Ariana began before her eyes grew big, and a huge grin erupted onto her face. “No way, it’s the guy we met the other day. Hunter Donovan?! Wait, what? How?”
I placed both arms around her shoulder to keep her still because she was shaking the couch. “Whoa, first of all calm down because I don’t feel like spilling my ice cream on the floor. Second, keep your voice down.”
“Why? Justin isn’t here. He’s working late tonight.”
“Regardless, we still have neighbors, remember?”
Ariana raised an eyebrow. “I doubt the neighbors are interested in your love life, Bianca. It isn’t some telenovela they watch religiously.”
A smile tugged on the corner of my lips. “Anyway, do you want to hear the story or not?”
Ariana mimed zipping her mouth shut, crossed her legs underneath her and gazed at me expectantly.
“Well, it started when I got there…”
*****
My car beeped as I hurried up the driveway, smoothing down my skirt in the process. I held up my clipboard and pressed my hand to the doorbell. I let my eyes scan the property clinically to be able to determine what can and can’t be done.
It was a two-story Victorian, painted a dark shade of brown. It looked like it underwent renovations every so often to keep it from falling apart, which was a good thing, but the lawn did look like it could use some tending.
It was a good thing I knew just the man for it.
“Hi, Bianca,” Wendy greeted as soon as she opened the door. In a pair of capri shorts, and an iron man shirt, she looked every inch the casual and relaxed mother. “Welcome.”
“Thank you.” I stepped inside and was immediately hit with the smell of freshly baked cookies. “The house is lovely.”
Wendy tucked her hair behind her ear and beamed. “Thank you, it did take a while to remodel it, and the upkeep is crazy, but we do our best.”
I nodded as my gaze swept the entrance as I tried to picture how it would look.
“So, what do you think?” she asked, anxiously. “Maya doesn’t know yet what the theme is going to be. I’m planning on taking her out all day to keep her occupied, but I think she’ll flip when she finds out, or at least I hope she does.”
“We’ll make sure does,” I assured her as I began to write things down on the clipboard. “I have a few ideas already.”
She looked surprised as she gestured towards the right. “Let’s take this to the living room then, and you can tell me all about your ideas.”
Chapter Five
“Just a little bit lower, guys. Slightly to the right, and perfect.”
They couldn’t hear me, so I cupped my hands over my mouth and yelled out. “It’s great!”
They gave me a thumbs up for good measure and came down the stairs. The party decorations were coming along quite nicely, and Wendy was by far one of the best clients I’d ever had.
Not only was she eager to help with anything I asked her for, but she was also a massive Doctor Who fan, so we had quite a few conversations about the show as well. Her daughter, Maya, still had no idea what the theme for her party was, but she was always bouncing back and forth on her heels whenever she saw me.
She even tried to trick me into divulging once or twice, but she’d quickly learned that I was not easy to break. If anybody could’ve though, it definitely would’ve been Maya. With her dark brown hair, and stormy colored eyed, she not only had the looks, but she also had the sweet and charming persona to match.
My guess was she would be a definite firecracker one day.
“Stop moping, would you?” Ariana bumped her shoulder against mine as she typed a few things onto her iPad.
“I’m not moping.” I drew my shoulders up as I eyed the place critically, making sure we hadn’t missed anything.
“I could feel you from all the way over there.” Ariana jabbed her thumb in the general direction of the living room. “You were moping. The question is not if you were. The question is who you are moping about.”
I cleared my throat. “I find it odd that you think I’m moping about somebody. Not everything is about guys, Ariana.”
Without lifting her face up from the iPad, Ariana scoffed. “Yeah, right. You can try that psychoanalyzing on someone who isn’t your best friend, okay?”
“Why would I do that?” I quipped. “It’s more fun getting under your skin.”
Ariana lowered her iPad and gazed at me triumphantly. “Aha! So, you do admit that you do it to annoy me.”
I shrugged, a playful smile playing on the edge of my lips. “I admit nothing.”
“You just said that.”
“You really ought to get confessions on paper, or maybe signed in blood.”
“Yours or mine?” Ariana drew her eyebrows together in confusion. “Because if it’s mine, I’ll pass. You know I’m squeamish.”
“Why would it be yours if I’m the one confessing?”
“I don’t know. You’re the one who’s making up weird cult rules all of a sudden.” Ariana shrugged. “I won’t pretend to understand your brain when it goes there.”
I shook my head in amusement. “Okay, I’m not in a cult. Those are confession rules. Everybody knows them.”
“I’m sure not everybody knows them. That’s an exaggeration,” Ariana corrected.
“Okay, most people know them then,” I conceded. “Regardless, you can’t prove that I said anything.”
“You said potato, I say potatoh. Anyway, stop trying to change the subject.” She shifted, so that her entire body was facing me. “So, what’s your story?”
“Mine, well it started a very long time ago. On a dark and stormy night. Wait, that makes me sounds like a cliché, but it’s true. It was in November too, and my mom said that I was overdue. You see—”
Ariana held up her hand to interrupt me, an impatient noise escaping her lips. “Seriously? You’re trying to be a smart ass with me now?”
I gave her an innocent smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You asked for my story.”
“Yes, I meant your story right now. The guy you’re moping about. Not your life story, Tonya Harding.”
I sniffed delicately. “Next time you might want to clarify before I go into details, Ariana. Suppose I actually want to talk about things like that?”
Arian
a gave me a pointed look. “Do you?”
“No but suppose I did.”
“No point in wasting time on hypotheticals. Now quit taking us round and round in circles and spill. Has he called?”
I busied myself with fixing a floral arrangement as we walked around the room double checking that everything was in place.
“Who?” I asked, distractedly as I grabbed an elastic from my pocket and tied the flowers up together to give them a better look.
“Hunter. I mean, I sincerely doubt that Evan called,” Ariana said in a tone that brokered no conversation. “Not that it would matter. I mean after his reaction at the restaurant, I don’t think you should give him another chance.”
I shot Ariana a look.
“You’re not actually thinking of giving him another shot, are you?” Ariana stared at me with her mouth slightly open. “Come on, you can’t be serious.”
I held up my hand. “Whoa, relax. I never said that. No, I’m not, but if I did. Would it really be that bad? Evan didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He didn’t do anything right either,” Ariana reminded me, her tone laced with frustration. “Look, Bianca, I know you think that not noticing that you were gone, and not caring that you were locked in a bathroom with another guy isn’t a big deal but trust me, it is. If he isn’t the jealous type then he could at least be the concerned type, but to exhibit neither?”
“What if he’s the type who handles difficult situations like that?” I asked.
I knew it was pointless.
Ariana was right. Whether or not this was how he responded to uncomfortable situations wouldn’t matter much in the grand scheme of things if he couldn’t vocalize.
Aside from his music, I had no idea what went on through Evan’s mind. Not really. It was all general and cryptic. Nothing concrete. I thought perhaps he was shy, but soon it became clear to me that it had nothing to do with nerves or potential social anxiety.
It was just the fact that aside from his music, very little occupied Evan’s thoughts.
Passion was good. Important even.
But there was a thin line between passion and borderline obsession.
It had negative connotations associated with it for the most part, and I understood why. If it took over your thoughts with such intensity that it left little to no room for anything else, then yeah. It was hard to picture how that could be a good thing.