Dinner with the
Beauforts (4)
Upon waking up the next morning, Alana got ready for the day as usual. She expected to see Roman in the living room, perhaps on a call, but he was nowhere to be found.
After eating her cereal, she contemplated whether she should check for Roman in his room on the second floor to inform him that she was ready to leave. She finally decided to check on him.
She knocked on his door, waiting for a response but received none. After knocking for some time without getting a response, she left, wondering if he hadn't slept at home last night or perhaps had stepped out earlier that morning.
She had seen him dressed last night and assumed he had returned from wherever he had gone.
She frowned as she stepped out of the elevator into the parking lot. It would have been great if Roman had informed her that he was going out last night and wouldn't be returning. He just had to keep it to himself as if she were non-existent.
She mouthed a thank you to the driver as she stepped into the car, a small sigh escaping her lips as the man started the engine.
In the middle of her lecture, Alana felt her phone vibrate in her hand. She glanced at the screen to see a message from Roman.
"Come outside," the message read.
Not wasting a moment, she immediately typed a reply.
"I can't. I'm in class right now," she sent the message and refocused on what the professor was saying.
Her phone vibrated again, causing her brows to crease as she glanced at her screen.
"I don't care. You have two minutes to come out here or I'll come in there to get you myself."
Alana shut her eyes in frustration after reading the text, wondering what Roman could possibly want now. She had no intention of finding out if he would do what he said, so she immediately took an excuse from the professor before exiting the hall.
Her eyes scanned around outside until they fell on Roman, leaning on his car with his hands shoved in his pockets. He was dressed casually, wearing a black long-sleeved shirt with matching pants.
Alana folded her arms across her chest when she reached him.
"What do you want? I was in the middle of an important class," she said.
Roman had a nonchalant look on his face as he simply stared her up and down. He stood straight and opened the car door.
"Get in," he said, ignoring her question.
"I'm not getting in," Alana retorted, glaring at onlookers.
"Do you want me to make a scene? Because trust me, I'm in the mood for one," Roman said, his voice turning hard.
"I don't think so. You look like you're in a hurry and not in the mood to cause a scene. But if you still feel like making a scene, then go ahead," Alana smirked, challenging him.
Roman's eyes narrowed.
"Please get in," he said in a calmer voice, exhaling as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Now, was that so difficult? All you had to do was ask nicely," Alana said, taunting him, as she entered the car.
Roman said nothing as he also entered the car, swiftly starting the engine and driving away.
Alana stared at the building in front of her after stepping out of the car. She glanced at Roman, questioning.
"What are we doing here?" she asked.
"I made arrangements for you to get your hair done for this evening," he replied, walking past her.
She mouthed a small "oh" as she followed him into the salon, the scent of lavender and chamomile immediately hitting her nose.
She stood back as Roman spoke to a particular woman who nodded, her eyes falling on Alana.
Roman returned to Alana with the woman.
"I have something to take care of. I'll send my driver to pick you up when you're done," he said to Alana. He glanced at the woman. "I'll leave her in your hands now," he said before leaving.
The woman smiled at Alana brightly the moment Roman left.
"Right this way," she led Alana to sit in front of a mirror, touching her full hair. "Do you have anything in mind?" she asked, and Alana shook her head.
The woman's smile widened even more.
"I know just what would suit you," she said and swiftly began working on Alana's hair.
It took an hour before the hairstylist finally finished with Alana's hair. The woman smiled, seemingly pleased with her work as she stared at Alana's reflection.
"Do you like it?" she asked.
Alana nodded her head with a smile on her face.
"I love it," she replied, staring at the streak of difference in her hair now.
Staring at the various gowns the designer placed before her, Alana finally settled on a particular black, short, sleeveless gown. The gown was a simple yet elegant piece.
Alana prepared a scented bath for herself and stripped off her clothes, tying her hair up before slipping into the bathtub.
A contented sigh escaped her lips as she eased into the water, savoring the aroma of jasmine. She luxuriated in the bath, taking her time before finally stepping out when she felt thoroughly refreshed.
After dressing, she went to check on Roman, as he had mentioned arranging for a makeup artist to assist her with her makeup.
She had declined the idea since she was perfectly capable of doing her makeup herself, but Roman still insisted on calling a makeup artist. The man simply enjoyed doing whatever pleased him.
Entering the living area, she caught sight of Roman passionately kissing a woman. He had pinned both of her hands against the wall, his face buried in the crook of her neck as soft moans escaped her lips.
"Ehm," Alana cleared her throat to capture both of their attention.
Pulling his face away from the woman's neck, whose eyes were now slightly widened in both surprise and embarrassment as they met Alana's, Roman glanced at Alana while still holding the woman in place.
"This is Trisha, the makeup artist," Roman said coolly, his expression carrying a bored look as if he hadn't been kissing the woman just a second ago.
Alana stared at the woman, feeling disgusted when the woman flashed her a small smile.
"I can handle my makeup by myself. You can tell the smiley slut that I no longer need her services," Alana said, then turned around leaving the room.
She heard the woman's gasp behind her as she left.
The woman turned to Roman, a frown forming between her brows.
"Who the hell is that bitch? Is she one of your women?" She asked, still irritated by Alana's insult.
Roman, who was still gazing at the spot where Alana had disappeared with a raised brow, quickly shifted his attention to the woman, his gaze sharp the moment those words escaped her lips.
He withdrew from her. "She's my girlfriend. Now, get out," Roman ordered coldly.
The woman's eyes widened in horror as realization dawned on her. "I'm so sorry. I wouldn't have called her a... I didn't know. I... I..." She stuttered, becoming flustered.
"I thought I told you to leave," Roman glared at her, the intensity in his voice causing her to flinch. She hastily grabbed her bags, pressing the elevator button multiple times as her hands shook.
As soon as the doors opened, she hurriedly entered, pressing the button for the first floor. She could still vividly recall what Roman had done to one of his women who insulted his former girlfriend.
The woman had been so traumatized after she returned, but she never spoke of what Roman did to her. Trisha assumed that it must have been terrible because the woman tragically committed suicide a few weeks later.
---
Running her fingers over the velvet fabric of the gown, Alana smiled, her face appearing even more radiant with her smoky makeup. The gown stopped just above her knees, fitting her perfectly and accentuating her curves.
She coordinated her jewelry to complement her look before slipping on her heels and grabbing her bag before heading out.
Roman was seated in the living room, one leg lazily crossed over the other, tapping his fingers on his thigh, boredom evident on his face.
He was dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt, matching black pants, and a long scarf draped around his neck. The first few buttons of his shirt were unfastened, giving a glimpse of his toned chest.
His gaze landed on Alana the instant he heard the click of her shoe. His eyes briefly scanned her figure before he stood up.
"You took your time," he remarked as he walked towards the elevator.
Alana simply rolled her eyes as she followed behind him.
She spotted the driver waiting by a black limousine. Glancing at the other cars in the parking lot, she wondered if they all belonged to Roman since he used a different car every day.
The driver bowed, greeting them both as he opened the door for Alana to enter. Roman circled around the car and got in through the other side, while the driver assumed his position before starting the car.
Alana exhaled nervously as they drove through the city, starting to feel anxious. Why wouldn't she, when she was about to have dinner with the Beauforts? And God help her, because Roman had already ruined her mood that evening.
She cast a glance at Roman, wondering if he couldn't avoid upsetting her. He was just plain arrogant and a womanizer at that.