End Game

Chapter 14

So here is the latest chapter. I have to say that I do enjoy the back and forth that Cera and Byron have going. I don't know how these two will work if all they do is get on each others nerves. Lol. Anywho let me know what you think, Lovelies. Enjoy! -AM <3

Byron looked at Cera across the table as she picked up her water glass and took a drink. He couldn’t believe that she still had not spoken to him. She hadn’t said a word to him on the drive to the restaurant; she hadn’t even looked in his direction. She hadn’t even mumbled thanks when he opened doors for and pulled out her chair. Not that he expected her to. His mother would go across his behind with a switch if she found out he had been anything less than a gentleman.

Cera had also made good on word to order the most expensive thing on the menu. She rightly chose the surf and turf platter. Byron fought hard to hold back his laughter when he read that it was a family sized dish that was meant to be shared between four people. Note to self: Don’t piss off Cera Michaelson.

He hated that he had to make her mad to get her to go out with him but he let his nervousness get the better of him. He dug a hole and the only way he saw of climbing out of it was to make her upset. He was honestly surprised that it worked, but at least she hadn’t figured out that she flustered him. The best part was seeing her face. The only thing more gorgeous than Cera when she was upset was Cera when she was smiling.

He got to see a hint of a smile now as the waiter brought her lemonade and his iced tea. Only when he was gone did he try to speak to her.

“How many languages do you speak?”

Cera eyed him over her glass. She thought about whether or not she actually wanted to speak to him now. She figured that his paying for a fifty dollar meal that would take her three days to eat alone was payment enough for her irritation.  And here she was going to order a salad for lunch.

She took another sip of her lemonade before answering simply. “Three.”

“I know you know English and Spanish, what’s the third one?”

"Pouvez-vous me dire."

Byron had no idea what she said. She didn't translate it either so he figured she was going to wait for him to figure it out. He thought for a minute before taking a guess.

"Sounds like French to me," he said with a shrug.

"Corriger. That is correct." Cera watched her surroundings. While she wasn't going to make him pay for it, her irritation still hadn't gone completely. She was fine with sitting here with him and answering his questions, but at the moment she had no desire to engage in conversation.

She watched the people surrounding her: the men with their tablets at the table, working while they had their lunch, the woman who was arguing with who appeared to be her boyfriend, the mother telling her son and daughter not to play so loudly.

Cera watched them longer than the others. A feeling of melancholy settled over her. She thought about her different her life could've been. How different it almost was. A small smile eased on to her face. She didn't cry about it often. No, she had done enough of that.

"Cera? Cera?"

Byron's voice broke into her thoughts. She blinked her way back to the present. Her vision focused once again on the room around her, the man sitting before her.

"You looked like you were in another world over there. Did you hear anything I just said to you?" Byron questioned her. He lowered his voice before continuing, "It's okay. You don't have to fantasize about what's going to happen in that conference room. It's going to go down real soon. And I promise it'll be worth the wait." He winked followed by a wide grin.