After my obvious and somewhat embarrassing staring session, Damien led me into the jet. The interiors almost knocked me off my feet. It was so magnificent, I could live in there for the rest of my life.
"You can sit now." He said sardonically. That was when I noticed he was already seated with his laptop placed in front of him.
I was perplexed. Why was he seating comfortably? I watched one of the air hostesses hoist a black suitcase that obviously wasn't mine into the luggage compartments.
"You're coming with me?" I asked dumbly.
"What does it look like?" He answered in a clipped tone.
"Yeah, sorry." I mumbled, taken aback by his terse response.
I sat quietly and buckled up for the ride. We soon took off, I watched him from the corner of my eye as he continued working on his laptop while the plane was in the air.
I played games on my phone for a while before drifting off into a short sleep. When I woke up, I had nothing to say to him, neither him to me.
The silence was beginning to irk me but I still couldn't bring myself to say anything to him.
What would I have said? 'Oh hey, husband to be, why don't we try getting to know each other better?' Or 'Hi, why are you so grumpy all the time?
The second question was the most suitable but I didn't have the courage to say anything.
The pilot's voice jolted me out of my thoughts soon after. We were about to land, I heaved a relieved sigh. I had missed New York within the last few days and it felt good to be back again.
We trudged out of the aircraft with Damien trailing behind me. That was a first cause I would usually just stay behind him but this time I couldn't wait for him this time, I was way too happy to be home again.
****
We soon arrived at my apartment. Damien had been on the phone all the way from the airport, business as always.
I opened the door to my apartment and let him walk in before me. I watched closely, as he looked around the apartment. This was definitely something he wasn't used to. It was hardly any where near classy, it was just basic.
He sat down carefully on my squeaky sofa, I looked away disconcertingly. I bit the inside of my cheek and looked anywhere but his direction when I felt his gaze on me.
"You can't live here." He said, glancing around with a derisive look on his face.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked tentatively.
"You'll be living with me in Los Angeles before and after the wedding." He stated with an air of finality but I wasn't having it, not this time.
I ignored my tired and already aching sides and snapped at him.
"What do you mean I'll be living with you in Los Angeles, Damien?! That is not part of the plan and I'm not moving until after the wedding! What the heck are you trying to say to me?" I raised my voice unknowingly and I saw he hated that. He stood up the next second and pulled me by my arm.
"What I mean by is that no fiancé of mine would live in such a squalid place!" He hissed angrily. I gasped at his choice of words.
Squalid?! How dare he?!
I fought the tears that came to my eyes.
"Squalid huh?" I gave a sarcastic chuckle.
"Well, this-quote, unquote- squalid place, is something I worked hard for. I pay the bills here with the money I earn, no hand me downs,nothing. And even if it's not up to your taste," I swallowed, so much emotion had clogged my throat.
"Cause you're so classy and super wealthy," I continued.
"It's still my home and I love it a lot more than all those luxurious places I got to see in Los Angeles." I finished my speech, furiously wiping the tears that betrayed me. His words weren't supposed to get to me so badly but they did and I hated it.
I pushed his hand off me, picked up my luggage and marched towards my bedroom.
"You know your way out." I muttered audibly and shut my bedroom door without as much as a second glance at him.
I waited in silence until I heard him go out a few seconds later, banging the door behind him. It was then I burst into tears, I was angry but most of all, I felt humiliated by him. He sounded so condescending and I truly hated him for it.
"I hate him so much!!!" I screamed into my pillow. I was breathing heavily by the time I was done, I didn't feel great but I felt better cause I was back in my space, my safe haven, my comfort zone and nothing was going to change that. Not even Damien Kingston.
****
I got about making dinner for myself. I hadn't eaten anything tangible all day apart from the hors d'oeuvres I had on the plane.
I dug into my meal trying my possible best to get the event from earlier off my mind. I had succeeded for the most part but the replay kept seeping into my thoughts no matter how hard I tried.
I finished my meal, did the dishes and was about tucking myself up early for the night when phone rang out.
It was my dad. I picked up immediately.
"Hey dad."
"Hey Ari, how are you doing?" His voice sounded like music to my ears, I had truly missed him.
"I'm alright, how are you?" I asked softly. He knew what I meant.
"Oh, don't worry your pretty head, I'm perfectly fine." He assured sweetly and I smiled.
At least there was something to smile about.
"Ari?"
"Hmm?" I answered absentmindedly, my mind had started to wander again.
"Why don't you come over and spend time with your old man?" He offered eagerly, he was sounding so excited, it had me worried.
"Dad, I'm kinda jet lagged. I'll join you for breakfast tomorrow, I promise." I assured him.
He sounded unconvinced, which was unlike him. Something was up, I was sure of it.
"Dad?" I called out.
"Yes, princess."
"How did you find out I'm in New York?" I asked suspiciously.
"Oh look at the time! I have to go take my medication now,"
Wait what?
"Dad." I called.
"Sleep tight sweetie,""
"Dad?"
"Good night!"
"Dad!!" I exclaimed but he had hung up already
His odd reply surely raised my suspicion and it was on a whole other level. Just what did this man have up his sleeves this time?
I shook my head with a sigh. I would definitely find out whatever it was later but at that moment, I just wanted some sleep and that, I got.
****
The next morning came and before I knew it I was in front of my mirror putting finishing touches to my casual look. I donned a pair of knee high black boots, a pair of blue jeans, and a black long sleeved turtleneck top.
I picked up my fur coat, put it on, then pulled my door open. I turned to lock my front door when I saw a man in black suit standing so close to my door. I froze for a second or two.
"Excuse me? Who are you?" I questioned, perturbed at how a stranger would perch in front of my home, dressed like that.
"I've been assigned by Sir Kingston to be your personal body guard ma'am."
Oh no, he didn't!!!
I pinched the bridge of my nose, muttering a cuss in Spanish before replying the fella.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Miguel."
"You speak Spanish?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Good."
"Dile a tu jefe. No quiero guardaespaldas." I told him sternly. (Tell your boss I don't want a body guard.)
"Lo siento señora. No puedo" He said apologetically. (Sorry madam, I can't.)
I grunted in annoyance nearly kicking my front door down.
"Where is he?
"I can't disclose that ma'am, I suggest you call him yourself."
I glared at the man angrily but then again I couldn't blame him, he was simply following his crazy boss' instructions.
Damien was pushing my buttons again.
I took deep breaths to calm myself down but when I took one step and saw Miguel follow suit, I knew it was going to take a lot to not have Damien Kingston's head on a plate that morning especially after what he did the previous day.
And just when I thought it was over, he had assigned a personal chauffeur to take me wherever I went in New York, in his white Cadillac. I came back to continue living my life without all the attention but here he was dragging more attention to me. Oh goodness!
Why did this man enjoy tormenting me?