Chapter Nine: A Small World
Alexandria's POV
"What took you so long?" Layla shouted from the window of the driver's seat as I approached her red Toyota Prius. I rolled my eyes in response and opened the passenger's door, stepping inside carefully.
"It wasn't that long," I muttered, trying to keep a clear head.
"Oh... My... Gosh!" She exclaimed, staring at the exposed part of my chest. "Is that a hickey?" She questioned, leaning closer till her nose was almost brushing my chest.
I shoved her gently with my injured hand, wincing in pain afterwards. "Can we leave now?" I asked, looking out of the window.
"So that is what kept you?" She interrogated, starting the car and manoeuvring her way out of the parking lot.
"This is a conversation for later," I told her with finality in my voice. She shrugged and connected her mobile device to the car to play music. Unfortunately for my ears, Layla began to echo the notes of the song — Listen by Beyonce — off key.
With a sigh of frustration, I plugged in my ears and stared out of the window, absorbing the buzz of city life walking past me. The traffic flow was somewhat poor that I could stare at something for as long as a minute.
A red truck drove beside us, a teenage boy whose arms were plastered with tattoos was at the steering. He noticed me staring and gave me a wink. I could only shake my head in laughter. When the progression of the traffic increased, my eyes struggle to keep up with the number of skyscraper buildings that we drove past so I decided to close my eyes for a bit.
"Yo, are you still alive?" I heard the distant sound of Layla's voice. Slowly, I opened my eyes, peeking at her under my lashes.
"What do you think?" I groaned sitting up. "Oh, we are here already."
As we got out of the car— ready to leave the garage, I saw an extremely expensive car turn into the VIP parking lot. Curiously, Layla and I halted in our steps, studying the vehicle's plate number. It was a customized one that spelt out NORMAN Jr.
We looked at each other, quite astonished at the surprise that met us. "What is he..." I trailed off, moving my eyes towards the doors of the car. His secretary opened the door and he stepped out, his black shoes shining like a coin. He wore the same suit paired with a white shirt from the office — which had stains of my lipstick on it — but this time he had a pair of shades on.
"Stop ogling him," Layla said, grabbing my waist from behind and sending Mr. Norman a glare. "And whatever I do, play along."
She kissed my cheek and pulled my dress up a little at the bust side, enough to cover the bruised spot when Mr. Norman wasn't looking. After that, she altered my hairstyle so that it concealed the red bite mark on my neck.
Interlocking out hands, we strolled out of the garage and to the entrance of the restaurant — Gynie. The nose refreshing and satisfying fragrance of citrus fruits filled me up. I had to take a deep breath. We walked towards the dark skinned lady at one of the desks who gave us a polite smile. I couldn't help it return it because it was beautiful.
"Reservation for two, Layla Hendrix," I said.
"Confirmed," she said typing away on the computer at her front. "Third table to the left, down the aisle."
Layla and I sat opposite each other, glancing over our menus. Every now and then, I could feel her scrutinizing gaze upon me. Her eyes seemed to bore deep holes in my chest. "What?" I asked, finally looking up — catching her eye.
She muttered something incoherently then signalled to the waiter to take our orders.
"Huh?" I replied in confusion, dropping the menu onto the table which divided us both. My appetiser remained untouched, whereas Layla's case was quite the opposite. "I'll have the amaranth leaves salad," I told the waiter who looked at me eagerly.
"Anything else?" She asked. When I said nothing, she turned to layla and took her order. She returned a few minutes later with a tray of steaming hot pasta and grilled chicken. It looked so cheesy and appealing to the eye. My mouth watered and my stomach grumbled at the delight. I took my eyes away as Layla took a mouthful of pasta and moaned at it's goodness. Shortly after, my plate of greens appeared and I stared at it with a sigh. Taking a forkful of the salad, my eyes wandered towards my right where Mr. Norman was seated.
Our eyes met for only a flash but still, I could feel the magnetic field between us compelling is to lock eyes over and over until we were in each others arms. Layla was saying something to me, but my mind was elsewhere. As I looked down at my heels, I fought the urge not to look up at him again.
A fork clatter brought me out of my reverie. "You have barely eaten anything," Layla commented, looking distastefully at my salad.
"I don't feel like it," I shrugged. "Let's drink wine and toast to my new job," I said.
On cue, the waitress walked over and uncorked the bottle of wine at the centre of our table, metering something along the lines of enjoy. She poured a considerable amount of the mildly sizzling liquid into our goblets. When the waitress left, Layla raised the glass to meet mine. "To your New job!" she exclaimed, clinking glasses.
After taking a long sip out of her cup, she asked if I was ready to leave and when I replied in affirmative— after emptying the content of my goblet while mentally reassuring myself that the wine would make no significant change, Layla collected our bills and paid our fees via her credit card.
Her hands encircled my waist as we walked out of the restaurant, followed shortly after my Mr. Norman and his secretary. By this time, I could easily tell that we were being stalked. From a distance, I could see Mr. Norman struggling to keep his composure. His fingers clenched and unclenched everytime Layla whispered incoherent nonsense into my ear, or when she playfully bumped my shoulder — always too careful not to let my hair reveal what it hid, or let my dress fall too low at my shoulders. That was when I realized the provoking game Layla had been playing at.
Once again, she murmured nonsense and gibberish into my left ear— her nose lingering on the baseline of my neck a little too long— and I giggled only just a little. Careful not to let it slip that it was a ruse. I turned to face her with a smile of understanding. Giving her a quick peck on the lips, I rested my arms on her shoulder as we approached her car.
Mr. Norman stomped over to us, a cold gaze coming upon his face. "Fancy seeing you here," he said. His face went blank at the sight of Layla's inspecting watch. "Miss?"
"Dankworth," Layla said tight-lipped. Her face was so serious— her lips pressed in a thin grim line.
"Forgive me," he said, bowing a little. "Small world it is," he commented. "Who knew I would —
"Not a small world sir," Layla said cutting him off. Her tone was biting and filled with disdain. "Just a world full of stalkers."
Mr. Elvis (Mr. Norman's secretary) snickered loudly, earning a glare from Mr. Norman and and victory smile from Layla.
"Whatever that means," Mr. Norman said. Despite his passive expression, I noticed the small tick of annoyance in his jaw. He studied us for a while. "Have a wonderful day," he muttered, walking away.
When Layla and I were finally inside her car, she turned on the keys and smiled at me. "A woman who is taken is most coveted," she said putting on her seatbelt. "Thank me later," she winked.
I chuckled. "Who said I want to be more desirable?"
"Oh please," she rolled her eyes, driving out of the garage. "We both know you want him to want you."
I bit my lip and looked out of the window. "Whatever that means."
"I can feel it," she said. "This time the energy is different. Even your blood thirst to keep men in denial, wanting more and on the leash can't stop your heart from taking what it wants. Play your games as much as you want— I'm in full support of them but stake your claim before it's too late to do so."
"Layla listen to me," I began. "There's nothing —"
"Hush," she muttered. "By the way I have been meaning to bring up the topic about your lack of love for food."
"I just didn't feel like it today, okay?" I said, exasperated.
"You never feel like it," she rolled her eyes.