Gregory reflected on the situation for a few seconds.
"Meow."
He searched high and low following the meows, only to be led to an end dead where the sounds stopped.
The workaholic went back to his files. Astoria was a knot; there were so many procedures to install for the company to be at the same level as the other French acquisitions.
The French loved paperwork there, and a multitude of forms lined up to be filled. Gregory wondered at what moment they made decisions.
Around 6 PM, the Oasis started her concert again. Gregory found the cat proudly seated on his bed.
"Okay, Oasis, sorry to rain on your parade, but your mistress is waiting for you," Gregory took the cat in his arms.
XY XX
"I'm coming," Xenia said at the sound of the doorbell.
"Found her."
"Thank you, Gregory, Oasis what's wrong with you?" Xenia asked the cat as she took Oasis from Gregory's arms. The man turned to leave.
"Eh, Gregory, have you eaten?"
"Not yet."
"I still owe you for the medicine soㅡ."
"It's okay, Xeniㅡ."
"I insist; I'm on my own Sia won't be home before 8 PM."
In her voice, Gregory could hear the silent plea; Xenia didn't want to be alone.
"Okay."
And neither did he.
"Great," the huge smile which appeared on Xenia's face made Gregory want to do the same, but the man refrained from doing so.
He never smiles, thought Xenia, at least not at me.
Xenia saw how he distributed smiles in Astoria at women in other services to her. He only offered frowns for the most.
Gregory locked his door and went to Xenia's, where Oasis decided to live a passionate romance with his leg—making it difficult for the man to keep a straight face.
Xenia smiled, "Okay, let me tell you we are not eating spaghetti."
"From the smell, I would say it's Yassa ."
"How did you guess?"
"I've traveled a lot, and I've been to Senegal a few times," Gregory said.
Xenia pursed her lips in disappointment, "oh, I thought you'd be surprised."
"I am surprised. I haven't eaten it in years."
It was a chicken Yassa[Dish from Senegal, spicy dish of chicken or fish marinated in lemon/lime juice and onion and then grilled and caramelized] Xenia made rice and plantain bananas.
Gregory took a seat, "are your parents from Senegal?"
"My father was, and my mother is from Reunion Island."
"So, your father taught you?" Gregory pursued.
"No, my mom did. My father left when I was little."
"Oh, sorry, I was indiscreet."
"It's okay, sit down," Xenia added a plate and served, "bonne appetite."
"Merci, bonne appetite."
As Gregory took the first bite, it was evident for Gregory Xenia's attitude towards man was forged on her beginnings and that Sia's father didn't help in any way.
"So, Sia goes to her father's on weekends?"
"She doesn't; it's quite rare. They have a day out once or twice a month, but lately, he seems to desire to see her more. I know it's selfish, but I can't help it; I can't be nice. I only do it for Sia; I'm so afraid one day she'll throw at my face that wrecked her relationship with her father. Mark is an asshole, but I can't pretend he's dead when he is there, and he comes here asking to see her. We argue in front of her because I can't control my temper." Xenia sighed, "I'm just so afraid that she hates me."
"She won't hate you. One day she'll be old enough to understand. The food is delicious, Xenia," Gregory hoped to lift the atmosphere that slowly became gloom.
"Thank you, where else in the world have you been?"
"Practically everywhere with the army, Kenya, South Africa, Angola, Congo, Nigeria, Tanzania, Iraq, Afganistan."
"Bet you didn't go in the last two for leisure," Xenia said before popping a slice of fried plantain in her mouth.
"I didn't," Gregory's grim expression stopped Xenia from pushing further.
After eating, they sat down with a glass of wine.
Xenia at one end of her couch, legs crossed, and Gregory at the other body and legs turned towards her. He twirled his finger around the rim of his glass.
"Do you like Paris so far?"
"Yes, Paris is beautiful," Gregory loved the French capital and was sincerely glad to be there.
"I don't know what people see in it, our metro reeks, people are always in a foul mood, and it's darn expensive."
Gregory smiled, "Paris has a history, fine arts, great food, and the legend of being a romantic city."
Xenia chuckled and tapped on the armrest, "that's a myth. There no bigger love here than elsewhere."
"You don't believe in love?"
"It's an interesting concept," Xenia replied.
"So you had a deception, and you crossed out everything, which explains why you're deceiving everyone with your lesbian life set up."
Xenia turned her gaze away and sucked her teeth.
"Did you just suck your teeth at me?"
"I didn't."
"You did, you went, phhhchii."
Xenia laughed, "don't do that ever again, oh my god, my ribs."
"You haven't answered my question, do you or don't you believe in love?"
"Love hurts, besides; who would want a misandrous nut case, like moi?"
"There's no stopping a man who wants something, and everyone needs somebody. There's not a person on earth who can make it through life on their own."
"I'm not alone, I have people around me, and I have Sia."
The man leaned forward, "you know what I mean." A glint of insistence lingered in Gregory's gaze.
"You should practice what you preach, Gregory."
"Pardon."
"You heard me," Xenia snorted.
"I'm not alone; you don't know anything about me. I'm interested to know what brought about this remark."
"No one works around the clock, Gregory. All I see you do is work. You don't do that when you have a fulfilling life."
Gregory chuckled.
"What's funny?"
"It's just you don't know me, and if you did, you'd be aware I'm not the type to jump on the first seat available. Vaut mieux être seul que mal accompagné, disons que j'attends le bon compagnon [better be alone than badly accompanied, let's say I'm waiting for the right companion]
"Lord, have mercy on us. I wonder what type of woman will do the job. Wow, I didn't imagine you so fleur bleu [hopless romantic], looks can indeed be deceiving.
"You can say that again," Gregory said, furrowing his eyebrows.
The doorbell broke the awkward silence which sat between them.