Chereads / For All My Scars / Chapter 2 - TWO PEAS IN A POD

Chapter 2 - TWO PEAS IN A POD

I watched as her footsteps faded into the distance, my pride giving way to a mounting sense of desperation. I had never been rejected before, much more walked out on.

I was confused as to whether the weight of my dilemma was weighing in on me or if the utterly disrespectful rejection of my proposition stung more than I cared to admit.

I reached for my phone in my pocket and dialed a number. "Find her, do not lose sight of her, and on my command bring her to me", I said calmly yet authoritatively. 

"What are you doing Luca" I silently asked myself. I honestly didn't care for marriages or lifetime commitments. 

My father was right when he called me lascivious, I was a man whose charms and money brought men and flocks of women too but I never wanted to put up with any one of the women for life. If I wanted a taste I simply got a taste, I was an expert at leaving trails of heartbreak and tears in my wake. 

I took the last sip of my now cold coffee and stood up to leave the coffee shop right after leaving a tip underneath the disposable cup. 

This coffee shop was in the heart of metropolitan Moscow, It wasn't the area where the rich, high, and mighty lived but it was an area that the rich, high, and mighty controlled.

I didn't live here, and neither did I run my dealings from here. I just needed some time away from the commotion. 

I had five days left, and in five days I had to get married or I would lose everything to that son of a bitch, Xavier.

Xavier and I have never agreed on anything since the day we got to tell the difference between our left and right.

We were bred in discord and brought up to be rivals. My entire life I felt like I was in a race.

I always wondered what a happy family felt like. My mother was a subject barely discussed. A subject I didn't care to delve into myself. I didn't want to know why, I didn't want to know the truth of what transpired. The facts remain that she left me and didn't look back.

Trust was a rare commodity in my books. Unlike the popular saying "Trust is earned" I had a belief that trust is given. And I had absolutely no trust to give and this I extended to every sphere of my life.

"I need a drink", I said to myself while signaling to my driver to bring the car to me. My sleek red car with tinted windows pulled up right in front of me. 

Standing at the entrance of the coffee shop, I watched my driver Carlo open the car door and hold it out for me with a bow. I gave him a nod of acknowledgment and stepped in while he closed the door.

Carlo took his place behind the wheel, a man of almost no words who has served the family since I was a little child. "Where to, boss?"

"A bar" 

I gazed out the window lost in thought while the car eased into the city's traffic 

...…

There was barely anybody in this bar, the whole place had this unique smell like local fermented wine with a mixture of actual booze. It had this smell that made the environment seem like it was meant for both worlds.

The decor was a fusion of rural and modern sentiments. Its walls were adorned with old stylish bamboo paneling and vibrant drapes. The floor was made of wood too matching the bamboo paneling.

Soft local music could be heard playing in the background further enhancing the soothing ambiance. 

"What would you like to have sir", a casually dressed waiter asked, cutting my thoughts and observations of my surroundings short.

"A bottle of scotch whiskey and some lime juice"

I dropped my card on the table close to the waiter for payment. 

While waiting for my drink I couldn't help but go over my decision again. 

My father taught me that successful decision-making relies on a balance between deliberate and instinctive thinking. 

On that premise, I have lived my life taking each step with the knowledge that every step no matter how minute was a determinant of my end result.

My eyes caught a lady dressed in a skimpy red dress with silver stilettos. Maybe a woman was all I needed to take my mind off all of these. 

Such rash decisions usually came naturally to me. That saying about a lion never giving birth to a sheep. I was my father's son and I would be brutal so long it was needed for me to get by. But this one seemed to bother me. 

I stood up and moved towards the direction of the lady. I took a seat beside her and asked the barman to give me whatever she was drinking. "Hi", she said, already flirting with me.

"What do you say we go in my car?" I said looking at her voluptuous breasts. She tucked her hair behind her ear feigning a shy smile. I knew her type, the easy-to-get kind leaving no impression whatsoever her body was a stunner though. 

"You don't even know my name" She was moving closer, her breasts more in my face now.

"I know you see me, and I see you so let's skip the preamble" I used my finger to trail a doodle on her left thigh. 

She drew her red matte lips close to my ear, her breasts lightly brushing the surface of my chest now "It comes at a price though" she whispered.

"Lucky you" I whispered right back, moving away from the chair and advancing towards the door. 

I could hear her stilettos tapping the floor right behind me. I signaled my driver that I was ready to leave. He opened the front door for her to get in the front next to him while I got in the back seat. It was like an unspoken policy. Not just anyone gets in my back seat.

She was about to start another conversation even though that's not what she was brought here to do but I listened painfully to her boring talks while my mind kept casting itself back to the lady I met at the coffee shop. My need to meet her again grew per second.

SAMANTHA

"Good day Miss Samantha have your seat, please" 

"Thank you, ma'am" The room was fully air-conditioned but I could feel myself breaking a sweat. 

"Tell us a bit about yourself" I hated this question. I don't think I know myself all that well. How do you narrate or tell someone about something you also know next to nothing about?

"Miss Samantha?" I must have drifted away in thoughts again.

"Yes ma'am, I am Samantha, I have an educational background in business administration and management, and in the last four years, I have worked with a few small small-scale companies short-term. I am a passionate learner and very easy to work with". I said in one breath.

"Why do you think you're most suited for this role?" The interviewer was now looking at me, further spiking my anxiety.

"I have the experience needed for this job, if I could thrive within a small-scale organization then I can thrive here. I hope I am given a chance to prove myself". 

"Have you been a part of any team before?"

"Yes, I have ma'am".

"In what capacity did you act if I may ask" She was writing something now. 

"I was an analyst also doubling as a strategist for the team" The strength it took for me not to start biting my fingernails in a bid to calm my roof-level anxiety needed to be studied because to be honest, I was almost losing my shit.

"Was the project successful?" another woman on the panel asked. 

"Yes it was ma'am" 

The first interviewer clearly had no more questions for me. "Does anybody else want to ask Miss Samantha any more questions?" she asked looking to both her sides.

From the expressions on their faces, they all looked done with the questions. 

She looked through the papers on her desk and then spoke in hushed tones with the panel.

"We will get back to you as soon as possible Miss Samantha Please stay in touch". I expected this but somehow it felt like I wasn't ready. 

"Thank you, ma'am". I said as I stood up to leave the room. It was needless to say I had wasted my time yet again

How did I feel? I felt nothing. Complete numbness I was used to disappointments. I didn't expect that this would be any different and I wasn't wrong. Hope is equal to delusion.

...

My walk back home was silent. My head was always a busy street. The conversations I have with myself usually feel so real that most of the time I forget I don't have friends. 

The street was dimly lit and there was barely anyone on the sidewalk. His words continued to reverberate in my ears. 

I was still utterly shaken by the audacity that man possessed walking up to me talking about I should be his contract wife. 

I could recall his condescending stares, the way he sized me up, and how his good looks almost totally hid how much of a douchebag he was. 

I heard tires screech directly behind me. Anyone would be raving mad to drive like that as there was a sharp corner right ahead almost inches away from where I was now standing. I instinctively backed away in a bid to let whoever the mad driver was, scoot away. 

The black pickup truck swerved dangerously near me, its side mirror hitting my shoulder and causing me to stagger. 

My heart started racing my pulse fast-tracking itself several notches and before my brain could even process everything that was happening, the vehicle screeched to a halt and the passenger door flung open. 

A huge man in black overalls reached for me, his arms felt strong, and before I could even scream, a white napkin was used to cover my mouth and nostrils and in a few seconds all I could see was darkness.