Easing Heimweh (Heim, #1) ✓

4: Bad Idea

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here?"

I scooted away, my hand hovering above my cocktail. "Nothing much," I replied with a tight-lipped smile.

The guy, a total stranger who sat beside me not too long ago, took notice of what I just did and proceeded to laugh. "I'm not doing anything stupid like that, sweetheart. I came to have a good time."

"Good for you." I kept my drink covered.

He laughed again. "I like you already. What's your name?"

I chose not to speak this time. Clutching the edge of my shorts with my other hand, I took a sip of my cocktail and shot a glance at the dance floor—a subtle signal that I couldn't be bothered any longer. Much to my dismay, though, he couldn't seem to take the hint. The response I received was that infuriating laugh of his.

I should've listened to my guts when it told me this was a bad idea.

Hours ago, I craved a change of atmosphere. The first thing that came to mind was to go to a random beach bar and see if I liked it.

I, for one, had never been to bars. I, a 25-year-old working woman, was only allowed to parties my family held, where everyone could fully rely on our strict security system and bartenders, all of which were chosen by Ellis Alonzo himself.

I found this bar near a highlife-infested beach, a good 20 minutes away from Myriad. I knew the risks of coming here and getting recognized. Oddly enough, I sought the thrill. It might be the alcohol talking as I'd been drinking for a little more than an hour now, but I could care less about that.

But it led to this shituation, and it was safe to say I was back to being sober after the stunt this good-for-nothing guy pulled on me. The only tolerable thing about him was that he didn't seem to know I was an Alonzo. He would've made a scene by now if he did.

I, however, wouldn't let that cloud my utter discomfort. He wasn't trying to be subtle about his flirting antics. I'd seen it a hundred times. Men, no matter how rich or smart as they claim to be, had annoyingly similar methods of getting women, or in this matter, attempting to get women.

The same sex had better chances with me. I dated women who were creative in the I'll make you swoon field.

"I wanna buy you a drink," he began when I showered him with silence. "Do you fancy a martini?"

"No."

"Should I get another cocktail, then?"

I sighed. "No, I don't want a drink."

"You're in a bar."

"I came here alone."

"Ah." A smirk played on his lips. "Is that an invitation for something?"

Sparing him another look, I took my sweet time to study his face as I tilted my head sideways. I raised a brow. "And is that an indication that you are not educated enough about respecting people's boundaries? I already said no."

He held his hands up. "Woah. Chill. I was only being kind."

"Hindi. Ayaw ko."

That made him stop. "What?"

"Maybe you weren't listening because you don't know basic English," I deadpanned. "Which is funny, seeing as your accent and facial features made it clear to me that it's your first language. That, or you really are uneducated about respect. Now, should I translate the word in German as well? I could do this all night."

"Stop making things complicated and just accept my offer—"

"She said no," another voice interrupted, one that wasn't part of the conversation moments prior. I whipped my head to the left and almost held my breath.

Invading the space beside mine just now was easily one of the most drop-dead gorgeous men I'd ever seen, and the statement wasn't an exaggeration. Soft, feminine-like features, jet black and wavy hair, piercing gaze, chiseled jawline, and no-nonsense stance. He leaned forward, closer to me, and I took in the subtle presence of sandalwood, rose, and alcohol. And the accent. Also fairly subtle, pleasing to the ears. Italian. 

The guy in front of us scoffed. "Who are you?"

I sensed the stranger was looking at me, so I took the risk and looked back. "Her boyfriend," he replied with calm confidence before turning away. His hand by my waist caught my attention. It wasn't touching me, just hovering, enough to fool stubborn men. "What are you still doing here? Scamper off."

I heard the barstool creak as the guy stood up and left us, muttering should've told me she's taken under his breath. I paid him no mind, letting out a sigh of relief instead when he was out of sight.

"Shitty boy," the stranger commented as he moved away. "Even a clear no isn't enough for the likes of him."

"I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah."

He nodded. To my surprise, he shifted and prepared to stand up and leave. In a state of panic, I took hold of his wrist. "I...I didn't get to thank you."

He looked away, ears turning crimson. I doubted it was from the alcohol. "It wasn't anything special. I only did what's right."

"Okay. I won't thank you. Just tell me your name."

With my attempt to make him stay proving itself to be effective, the man sat back down, a smile now across his lips. "V."

Seconds passed by before I spoke, as he didn't say anything else. "V," I repeated. "Not your real name, then?"

His smile only grew. "What's yours?"

It didn't take me a second to think of something. "Alon," I replied, the lie rolling off my tongue with ease.

Alon. Wave. Something younger me was scared shitless of. I wanted to laugh at the irony. 

I learned that names were powerful. Everyone in my family wasn't allowed to change the names assigned to them from birth. In our case, they were planned by Dad and Mom years before my siblings and I existed. Names were one of Alonzo's many trademarks, because they all began with E. The only exception to that silly rule were our in-laws. The more I thought about it, the more I deemed it ridiculous.

However, I wouldn't deny that exchanging names was always the first stage in forming any relationship, and after the stunt I pulled in my family, I feared that every person I'd meet and become friends with would face danger.

And it'd all circle back to me, Evadne "Stickler For the Rules" Alonzo—the eldest, the heiress, the former responsible career woman who suddenly ran away from her comfortable life.

"Not your real name either?" V asked, pure curiosity evident in his face.

I smiled. "No real names yet. You'll know what mine is next time," was my safest answer.

That appeared to have caught him off-guard. "There's a next time?"

"Do you want that?"

Maybe it was the lights coming from the dance floor now shining in hues of blues and violets after the DJ changed the genre, but V's eyes twinkled, and another smile, a sweeter one, adorned his perfectly sculpted features. I was left entranced for a split second before I caught myself. I hid my embarrassment with a cough, a perfect excuse to cover the lower half of my face.

But it didn't seem like V recognized me. I figured it was luck. The gods might have blessed me with it tonight, if I wouldn't have counted the situation with that guy from earlier. But it might just be the lights giving me the mask I needed.

Even then, none of that mattered much. I just found something better than cocktails.

"Of course," he replied. "I'd like that, Alon."

I finished the last of my drink.

Maybe this wasn't a bad idea after all.