My eyes become saucers the moment he says that.
He takes in my surprise and instantly starts to rant.
"Look, I knew you wouldn't come if I asked you straight out so I had no choice but to do this. I didn't know what else to do, okay? You're just so busy all the damn time. Especially when I used to come to your office, you would be on the phone but your hands would be working and then you would mix up all the papers and grunt every now and then so, you get what I'm trying to say, right?", by the time he's finished there's a sheen line of sweat above his upper lip but the amount of observation he did in my office kinda freaks me out a bit too.
God, can this guy rant?
I narrow my eyes at him to see if he'll break under pressure but he just bursts out.
"What? Why are you doing that?!"
"No reason. I was just checking if you were serious", I calmly reply, raising my chin up.
He's clearly nervous. Poor guy, I feel for him but I can't just go on a date with him, just like that.
"I'm dead serious. Totally. Utterly. Very, very much serious", he furrows his brows a little to prove his point further.
Yes, oh yes, he's definitely super nervous.
It takes almost everything in me to not laugh in his face at that.
"So you mean to say that you falsed me into coming to a date that I was planning all this time for you...?", I emphasize the last two words for him to get it straight through his head.
Slowly my words register in his head and I witness as his eyes widen at his mistake. I've to do everything in my will to hold back my smirk at the that moment.
Lord, I'm enjoying this.
"What? No! I mean, yeah, but... ", he splutters, surely at a loss of words.
Yup, I got him.
Time to get him out of his misery.
"Clinton, as much as I would like to go on a date with you, which I'm still not sure if I do, I can't", I state out loud, clearly.
He looks at me for a few seconds as if confused. But speaks up nonetheless.
"but why?", he whispers softly as I literally see a little bit of his light dim from his eyes, clearly not used to listening a 'no'.
I give up there and then because honestly, I'm not used to saying 'no' to anyone. Jason says I'm too polite for anyone to say no too but I think otherwise. Honestly, its clear how many hopes Clinton had with this date, especially now that I see his shoulders dropping by with every second that I'm quite and obviously, I feel sorry for him. Still I hold my ground though because I'm too tired for a date as of now.
So I conceive him as sweetly, politely as possible.
"There are policies. Certain guidelines set by my firm that I need to follow as your date planner and going on a date with you, will violate them, Clinton", I reason.
"What are you? In kindergarten? Honey, nobody is going to mouth you off to your firm if that's what you're worried about", he looks at me smugly as if he just solved a problem.
And I can practically see the gears running in his eyes as they brighten up again, like he still has a chance.
I scowl at him.
"Rules are rules Mr. Valsera-", I begin my professional speech but he cuts me off again.
"Exactly, rules are meant to be broken. I'm getting on your vibe, totally"
"Clinton...", I say in a dead serious tone.
"Justine...", he smiles at me his toothy grin.
I grunt frustrated beyond my limit but still exhausted beyond my strength.
God, he won't give in until I succumb. Better get rid of this problem as soon as possible.
"Ok, fine. I'm ready to go on a date with you. But not here", I narrow my eyes at him.
"Then where would you like to go, mademoiselle?", he straightens up, instantly in a happy-go-lucky mood.
"What do you think of a Happy Meal?", and now I'm mirroring his grin back at him.
20 minutes later we're sitting in my car(since he came in a rental and I offered him the ride) parked in the drive thru area outside McDonald's and munching on our burgers happily.
I moan at the first bite and slump back happily in my seat. Beside me, I sense Clinton watching me but I don't give a damn as I continue biting into my burger like a hungry gorilla girl who hasn't eaten in days.
If the noises that I'm making while eating don't drive him away then surely my mannerless-ness might.
I grin through a mouthful at that thought as we eat in silence, peacefully.
Clinton is watching me like a scientist examining his subject through a microscope the whole time while still biting into his burger every now and then.
It's a little creepy but I'm used to my fair share of creepiness from my very best friend who is always watching me like the hawk he is.
Speaking of best friends...
My phone has been ringing for the past half hour continously and I know I promised Jay that I would be back in half an hour, even though it's 9pm now and I'm sure he would be furious as hell but I don't know how I will make him understand my situation and I don't think he'll take it nicely either if I do tell him, so I keep my phone on silent and chug it into the deep pockets of my tote bag in the back seat, away from my sight.
God, I've to end this date as quickly as possible.
"You know, I never pegged you for a happy meal person", Clinton says through a mouthful, thoughtfully.
"Oh yeah, I didn't peg you for a happy meal person either", I tell him, truly intrigued.
"Seriously? Why?", he asks, fully turning his attention to me.
"You're all suit and pant, all the time. I thought you don't know what casual means but apparently you do", I gesture to his now somehow disheveled yet sexy attire.
Somewhere on the way here, Clinton's tux jacket found way on my car's back seat beside my tote bag and he thought better off his shirt as now his sleeves are rolled up half way through showing off his amazing tanned arms while a few buttons on the top of his shirt are now unbuttoned, leaving a little bit of skin to show in its wake.
Honestly, I've no idea if it's his strategy to turn me on or what but it's definitely working a little.
"Well, surprisingly I thought the same of you but now I guess I was wrong", he gestures to all of me.
Yeah, I know, I too took off my coat jacket and switched my heels for my vans which I always keep as a backup in my car because God knows that if it weren't for my professional attire I would be happy to move in my flats all the damn time. Literally.
"You certainly were", I reply, not knowing what to say to that.
Awkward silence reigns for a while in the car as none of us speaks after that.
It's odd what normal presumptions about each other people create just on the basis of appearance and what not. Honestly, I literally never pegged for a him to be so casual. Especially with his high class dates that he made me plan all those past months. And I'm pretty sure this is all going through his mind too at the minute as he seems lost to his thoughts now having finished his happy meal.
"So... Uhh... Where do you live Clinton?", I ask him as I pullout from the drive thru area, having finished my burger.
"Why do you ask?", he says casually, looking out of the window.
"I was thinking to drop you off you know, it's late. We should be heading home", I state in the hopes that he won't ask for more now.
I mean, obviously he payed the bill for the happy meals because as much as I believe in being an independent women and paying my own bills, he forced me on this date(directly or you can say, indirectly) so he pays. Simple.
"This is what you call late?", he chuckles, still looking out of the window.
"Well, obviously", I mutter.
"Well, you're certainly in for a ride then Ms. Blue because this date is nowhere near to an end yet", he turns his head around only to lean forward too close for comfort and wink at me in all that carefree, wild smile of his that says perhaps, I was right about him in certain aspects.
And that is how dread settles in the pit of my stomach as I pray to the God above to have mercy on me.
Another 10 minutes later I find myself sitting in the passenger seat of my car while Clinton here drives my very dear-to-life car. He's driving restlessly exactly the way I anticipated he would, so no surprise there. But the problem is he's driving way too fast for my little heart which is pounding at an even faster pace than my car, due to the fast rate of the car or fear of losing my dear car to the devil incarnate himself. I don't know but I'm definitely not enjoying this.
"Relax, Blue. I'm in full control. Don't you worry", he chuckles to the wild air that blows through his hair from the open window, as he speeds up.
"Oh yeah, that's why I'm worried because you're in control, you moron!", I shout through my panic.
Honestly, my politeness has sailed its way out of the window by now to a far away place.
Manners be damned.
"You wound my feelings, dear", he feigns hurt and places a hand on his heart, mocking me.
"I'm not your dear", I hiss through my teeth at him.
"Oh come on, don't be restless babe. We're just about to reach", he shrugs.
"Here", he pulls up in front of the very last place I expected him to.
I don't understand. How can he... How can he possibly think of...
I'm at a loss of words.
World must be near to apocalypse, I suppose.
"Come on, I'm not going to feed you to the sea monsters out there, if that's what you are thinking", I jump at his voice, now coming from my other side.
When did he...
I look at him holding my door open for me as he offers me his hand. Mouth agape, I don't pay no heed as I take his hand and let him pull me out of the car, gently.
The image of a beach or so it seems like looks back at me, awaiting me in the dark hour of the day. It's frightening, scary yet somehow I'm excited not exhausted anymore because the wind blowing through my hair says otherwise.
I don't pay attention to Clinton as I make my way down the beach in my vans slowly, as I clutch my arms around myself to provide a little warmth to my body from the soothing yet a little too cold wind that blows effortlessly through the air. Waves are rushing in the distance as I feel the slight breeze on my face.
I close my eyes and smile to the starry, dark endless beautiful sky that seems to be in a mood today.
I feel Clinton's eyes on my back but I just close my eyes and feel everything around me. The peacefulness, the wind, the water, the salty air, everything. It's amazing, all my exhaustion from the day just vanishes in the salty air in seconds of that peacefulness.
I don't know how long I stand there looking at the shoreline, watching the waves and how they flow, one over the other. I don't remember at what time I decided to just take off my vans and sink my feet into the sand and watch my feet sink in. I don't remember when the owner of those eyes that were watching my back all this time came over to me from behind and started massaging my shoulders, from my neck to all the stiff points on my back but I just relax in his hold. I give in. Give in to the feeling. Give in to him and everything around me. I just remember feeling stress free.
And this time, I sighed but a peaceful one. Content. Everything.
After the stress wore off, we walked on the shoreline with my vans in his one hand, saying nothing but everything at the same time.
And here I thought he was a total dickwad.
I snort to myself at that.
He looks at me surprised but smiles anyway.
"What?", he asks.
"Nothing", I shrug.
"Oh come on, you're going to hide from me now?"
"It's nothing, just drop it, Clinton. You're killing the vibe", I complain.
"Oh really? How about now?", he says and before I've the time to react, he has me hauled over his shoulder and is running past the shoreline, into the water.
"Clinton!", I squeal.
The last thing I hear before he submerges me under the water is his laugh.
I take it back, he's a total dickwad!
5 seconds later, I emerge out of the water frantic and coughing up all the salty water that has entered my nose and in all that laugh my only anchor is his laugh that is still resounding so loudly from deep within his chest.
I can't see clearly because of all that water in my eyes but I blindly reach for him and as soon as I reach him, I clutch onto him for dear life till I'm back to all my senses.
"What the hell, Valsera?!", I shout at the top of my lungs, still trying to catch my breath.
And as if I said something funny, he laughs even more loudly, if possible.
After a few seconds, whatever laugh spell he was under wears off and he sees me still coughing up a little, every two seconds. And surprisingly, he rubs my back soothingly, patting it and letting me take my time to take that salt all out, if possible.
Thankfully after a few seconds, I'm able to calm down. I close my eyes and try to breath through my nose, concentrating on my breathing, regardless of the fact that Clinton is standing too close for comfort again for the hundredth time today as his arms are securely wrapped around my waist as he holds onto me despite the crashing waves.
A few breaths in and heartbeat in check, I open my probably now red eyes to a pair of beautiful grey ones looking back at me with an intensity that, I don't believe it myself. My heart rate that became normal a second ago, hikes up again a beat by a second and I have to hold even more tightly onto him to keep myself from falling back into the water.
For a second I think he might say something romantic but unfortunately this guy has a bad timing for apparently everything.
"Wow Justine...", he stammers.
"What?", I look at him, all confused.
"Your...", he trails off.
"What? My what?!", I urge him.
His eyes trail off somewhere down and mine follow suit and the next thing I see... let's just say that it brings all the blood in my body rushing to my cheeks.
"Your tits are perfection", he whispers, literally in awe of my assets.
The reason he was able to ogle over them was because my white cut sleeved blouse had turned to a see-through blouse the instant he drowned me in the sea water.
And now, my pale pink push up bra is full on display and a little in his face too.
That comment alone disgusts the hell out of me but the awe in his eyes (literally, awe) subsided it a little bit but not exactly.
So, I shove him away from me as far as possible and wrap my arms around my chest to cover as much as possible as I now walk away from him and onto the beach, creating as much distance as possible between us.
I hear his booming laughter in the backdrop but I don't give two shits about him anymore, so I grab my vans from where he dropped them off on the beach (when he decided to haul me like the caveman that he is) and head back to my car in all my dripping glory.
As soon as I reach my car, I'm conflicted if I should sit in it or let myself dry outside because I don't want to get my seats wet.
Yes, my car maintenance matters a heck load to me, if you have a problem come talk it out with me.
But two seconds in the teeth clattering wind and I'm inside the car before you can say 'boom'. I turn on the heat instantly and prepare to leave Clinton but then as I turn around to grab for my tote bag in the back seat, my eyes fall on his tux coat which I presume has his wallet and phone and all the works.
I sigh and honestly, I've lost count of which timeth was this but I don't give a damn at this point.
And you can probably guess that by the amount of swearing I'm doing right now.
So, I sit in my car as I see his royal highness still emerging out of the water like he's a supermodel and poses by the shoreline(especially now that he knows I'm watching him) as he's out, dripping all over.
I roll my eyes and get my body temperature to normal up as my volume-less, pin-straight hair sticks to my forehead like anything. Thank god, I don't use much makeup or I would've been a raccoon by now, no shit.
As soon as Clinton sits in the car, I don't waste another minute to get on the road. Honestly, it's midnight and I'm damn sure Jason at home would be going nuts because I haven't returned his calls since 7:30pm. I just hope he wouldn't have called 911.
Oh, he has done that in the past, if you think I'm overreacting.
If I'm the overreactor than you should try multiplying my overeactions by 100 and that would make my best friend, hypothetically speaking.
So as much as I would like to drive slow in order to save my car from anything damage, I can't. I ask for Clinton's address and he jokes about me being eager but I ignore that and race as fast as possible, frantically.
I feel his eyes all the way on me over to his house. Somewhere in the middle of the ride he asks me the reason for my urgency but I ignore him deliberately.
Then he says something that has me fuming like a fucking steam engine.
"Do you always match your bra and clothes?", he asks me, referring to my pale pink pencil skirt and pale pink coat which is in the back seat and my bra which is also pale pink.
"None of your business", I hiss out.
"Oh really? Don't tell me you're wearing a matching panties with it too", he states than asks this time because he knows he's right.
And if my face could get even redder, than it did definitely and I could feel it, very much.
I see him smirk from the peripheral of my eye and I know my blush was all the answer he needed.
Yes, I match my undergarments with my clothes so what? I like order and precision! There's nothing wrong with that!
The next minutes are all silence as I drive over to his mansion.
I park outside his mansion and wait for him to walk out but he doesn't, I pray to god that he will just go if I don't say anything in a second or two but he just keeps staring at me. My patience wears thin as time runs by and I give in.
"What?", I shout a little too loudly in the silent car.
He blinks precisely 5 times at me before doing something that has me frozen in my seat.
"This", he whispers, oh-so-seriously for my comfort and leans forward towards me.
I don't have the time to process his action but it happens. I anticipate he's going to kiss me now and hence my eyes shut themselves involuntarily. My breath comes out shallow and heart beats wildly but it doesn't happen.
Because he kisses my cheek instead of my lips. A little too soft, a little too firm to mark his territory but the only thing that he shouldn't have done and he did it, just with the perfect amount of emotions.
And already a part of me goes to him away with that kiss.
Already, without a thought even though when I didn't want it to.
And he knows it because the moment I open my eyes to that smirk that stares back at me.
"Drive a little safely back this time and call me when you reach home", he says to me with such conviction in his eyes that the women inside of me just melts away at that.
He makes a move to kiss my forehead, presuming my state of frozen won't change anytime soon and I don't stop him either.
"Goodnight, sweetheart", he whispers the words on my forehead and before I know it he's out of the door and in his mansion.
I don't know how long I stay in that state of frozen-ness outside his mansion but I do know he was still watching me through the CCTV's. But thankfully I pull out of his driveway, onto my way to home.
Driving slowly as he said, replaying that kiss in my head infinite times until I reach home and the butterflies that erupted in my stomach a little later, die..