"I'll be done in a few hours, why?" I ask my mother who's already making plans for my wedding, knowing all well I have no intention to marry him. Or anyone for that matter.
"Visit us after meeting Asher."
I am barely able to control a groan. "Why?"
"We're having dinner with Ivette and her husband. Asher's parents."
"So I have to meet the son and the parents at two different places? Just call Asher to the dinner. I'll meet him there."
"No. You will meet Asher alone to get to know him."
My palms are pressing into my eye socket. "Do I have to come to dinner then?" I am enervated, my whole body hurts. I do not want to entertain people. Not right now.
"Yes."
"I'm really tired. I can't do the meeting and this dinner together."
"So you can not even get yourself to two places, then sit and talk?"
"I was in the operating room for most of the night and morning, mother. Just... not today."
"How will you be a good surgeon if you can't even handle this much, Eda? Stop with these ridiculous excuses. What will they think if you're not present during dinner, huh? Go home. Get some rest. Meet Asher. Come down here before seven. Then you're off."
I stay quiet.
"Eda?"
"Yes, mother."
"Be on time. Wear something appropriate." She hangs up.
I stare at the screen for a minute. Then at the clock. I should be able to get two hours of sleep before I get Asher Cheruano off my back. Maybe some time after that too if my plan works faster. This brings a smile to my face for the first time.
•
I jolt awake when I feel a light tap on my shoulder.
There is a person in front of me. "I didn't mean to startle you," he says, his voice raspy but strangely calming.
I only realize who I am, why I am here and who the man in front of me is after a minute of blinking. I look at my watch. An hour. He is an hour late. I had waited for him a few minutes before slipping into a very deep and lovely sleep at the furthest corner of the coffee shop we're meeting in.
My eyes narrow. I very bluntly look at him from head to toe.
The guy in a rare-on-blind-dates full suit, smiles down at me. With his stiff tie nestled in his chest, his shoulders flawlessly structured into his suit and his brown hair neatly settled back with a few strands resting on his forehead, anyone can tell he is someone very busy. He opens the mid button of his coat and either side of it falls back as he drops down in the seat in front of me. "We meet again," he greets, smilingly.
I blink again, still half asleep.
His eyes drop down to my mouth for a second before he grabs a tissue from the table between us and hands it to me. When I frown questioningly, he points to my mouth and I flush at the realization. I snatch the tissue and grumpily clean off my drool with it.
When I'm done with it I turn my gaze back to him. "You're Asher Cherauno?"
He raises an eyebrow as if I'm in decadence of some sort but nods.
"You're very late."
"I am." A discourteous reply.
He's an asshole. An arrogant one. He's good looking in every definition; Sharp, straight nose, deep brown eyes, thick eyelashes and an angular jaw. Every feature chiseled to perfection. There's a scar at the base of his chin that I only notice because he has his chin high up like a proud peacock.
"Is something wrong, Miss Clemonte?"
"Don't you usually make an excuse as to why you're late and apologize?" I ask, settling back into the seat and crossing my arms.
"Got stuck in traffic."
My gaze narrows.
"I apologize for letting you sleep for thirty minutes too."
I blink. He's curt, cold. Icy. I contemplate whether to go for my plan or just stick to what we're doing now. "Thanks for letting me sleep," I say, smiling.
"That's okay. You looked like you needed it." He doesn't have to look at the tissue he offered me, covered in my saliva now, to make me understand.
I don't stop smiling, though I do feel my left eye twitching very badly. "So shall we move on?"
"Of course." He says nothing more.
My tongue is between my teeth. Don't hit him, Eda. "How's your work?"
"Good." He picks up his coffee mug and sips from it gently. He looks bored. I want to punch him.
Control. "I've met your mother once," I say. "She is delightful. I've heard you take after your father, no?"
His mouth on the coffee mug pauses for a second. A hint of a smirk crawls its way up his formerly disinterested face. "I do."
He isn't willing to play the game. I can tell. Too bad I have to play it. "I see—"
"How's your work, Miss Clemonte?" he interrupts. "You work at the City Hospital, no?
I do my best at hiding the mild surprise I get when he asks me that. "I do," I answer, suspicious.
"Why do you not work in one of your family's hospitals?"
"No reason."
"I see." He grins to himself, taking turns in sipping from his coffee and glancing at the view outside.
This is getting annoying. He obviously has no interest in talking. I conclude he's doing the exact same thing I am: passing time until we can leave. But Asher Cherauno is weird. He's playing this game while not cooperating with the rules. So improvising my plan, I readjust my character to my original self. He will be an easy tell off.
"You look like a busy person," I say.
"I am one." Still no reaction.
I smile. "Then why are you acting like you have all the time in the world?"
He finally looks at me, tearing his gaze away from outside to me ever so slowly. "What does that mean?"
I keep the triumph from blatantly showing on my face. Got you. "We both don't want to get married to each other, do we, Mister Cherauno?" I do not wait for an answer. "So let's cut to the chase."
This catches his attention. The way the corner of his lips turn up but it doesn't look like he's smiling makes me unsteady. I've seen that smile somewhere before. That smug awareness. Like he knows something about me.
What is he?