An Unlikely Reunion

Five

I was still eating when most of the others decided they were done and ready to start their day.  Martin, I, and, of course, Mr Chevalier were the last ones at the table. I'd hoped he would stay where he'd sat all morning, far away from us, and quietly finish his breakfast. I should've known that wouldn't happen -- after all, quiet seemed to be a word he didn't know. Mr Chev-- Ian scooted across the bench, over to us.

"You two seem to be getting along great," he mentioned before taking a doughnut from a basket on the table. "Had a good night?"

Martin crossed his arms. "What do you care?" he asked.

Mr Chevalier defensively threw his hands in the air. "Hey, I'm just trying to be friendly here."

I couldn't help rolling my eyes. "Sure you are."

His lips formed a tight smile. "Claire, is it? I had a feeling you wouldn't be too fond of me."

"Well, I wonder why that is."

There was a strange kind of tension hanging in the air between us. Martin must've noticed, there was no way he didn't, but he said nothing.

"You know, your attitude might get you kicked off this show faster than a poetry slam could make your mouth go dry," Mr Chevalier said before getting up, taking his doughnut with him.

I couldn't believe him. How dare he bring this up here.

"What was that all about?" Martin asked, clearly confused.

"Nothing. Please excuse me for a second," I said as calmly as I possibly could and got up as well, following the asshole.

It didn't take me too long to catch up with him. He had just sat down by the pool, right between Liza and Anastasia, as I got to him.

I cleared my throat before asking, "Can I talk to Ian in private for a moment?"

Anastasia shrugged, but Liza raised an eyebrow at me. She didn't have time to give me her answer, though, because he was faster.

"Of course, Claire," he said, his tone making it clear that I was doing exactly what he'd hoped I would. "Come with me."

He got up and tried to grab my hand, which I instinctively pulled back. "I think I can follow you without that."

His eyes went narrow. "Sure. Whatever you say, Claire."

I hated this. I hated how he felt the need to say my name again and again. He most certainly knew how that made me feel, right?

He led me past all the spots that looked like they would give us some privacy, and I was starting to get impatient.

"What the hell are you doing? If you don't want to talk, just say it. Don't waste my time like this," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Shut up, Claire. We're going somewhere we can talk without anyone seeing. But if you'd rather have your dirty laundry aired on TV, we can talk right here," he replied as he stopped, his arms crossed.

No. No, of course that wasn't what I wanted. Not for my sake, but for his. "Fine. Lead the way, I guess."

"See? You should trust me more, Claire."

I groaned. "Please just stop calling me that."

A smirk came upon his lips just before he turned around and started walking again. "If that's what you want, love."

My heart skipped a beat as I heard him call me that again. In no way was this the better alternative.

After a few minutes, we got to an alcove in the wall of the villa, close to the hedge that surrounded the property. No camera team had followed us and there didn't seem to be any cameras installed around here.

"So," Mr Chevalier said, leaning against the wall. "You wanted to talk?"