30 minutes later
At Hooters, the music was booming and loud. Watching the girls walking in their orange shorts made uncomfortable in my skin. A good amount of Aphrodite class chics have passed by our tables, all thanks to Will. He smiled at them occasionally and then small talked about stupid shit like 'politics', 'India', and 'bureaucracy'. Roms was the only one laughing at his poor jokes, but half a minute later, she busy texting someone. My best bet was that it's Kade. While the thought of apologizing to him hasn't chewed out my brain yet, I was waiting for the right moment to break it up to him.
"Would you like to check out our spicy dip sauce, sir?" One of the Hooters leggy blonde walks to our table, she bends a little so that her cleavage flashed into Will's eyes.
"Sure." Will said, shooting her a smirk.
Why the hell did we dine out? We could do this at our apartment- drinking cold beer, and getting chicken wings, minus the girls.
"You seem a bit zoned out." Will said.
"Can't hear you." I lied.
"Is that Timothée Chalamet?" Will said, pointing to the other end, and I turned around to see a young man who was nothing like Timothée Chalamet. Fucker.
"You're a shitty liar." Will remarked and I rolled my eyes.
"No, I am not!"
"Yes, you are..."
We will probably start screaming, and no one will notice.
"Well, I am not interested in drinking cold beer and staring at half-dressed girls. Maybe that's why "I said.
"Oh. Well, I thought you'd appreciate the dress code here. No pencil skirts."He mocked.
Okay, this pencil skirt joke was now getting a tidbit boring. Will could try and come up with something of his own. He owns a fucking Bentley might as well brush his humor!
"Oh, you seem to take a liking to tank tops too!" I said.
"But they don't look good on half developed boobs." He said, and I choked on my beer.
Seriously? This man was going to talk 'boobs' at dinner?
"You seem quite amused surrounded by high-school cheerleaders!"I said, trying to change the topic.
The lights went off once again as we nibbled on the chicken wings. Okay, someone had flipped the leaf to see the statue's manhood, and the whole booth went 'Wow'. What's that amusing about dicks? It's not like they were a rare breed of dinosaurs. They are everywhere, only a bit overrated. Like the one in front of me!
"I wish I could say the same. But my reasons for amusement beg to differ." He said.His grey eyes turned all playful, and then his cheeks turned red.
I speak too soon for my bad.
He sounded close to something that came out of an 80's classic novel, but what can you expect from the CEO of Bexley's Publishing. He has read thousands of manuscripts in his life as a senior editor. He still does that despite his title allowing him to doze off. He is passionate but crazy all the same.
I glanced at Will. He seemed more of his age and less of a business mogul as he vibed to Hooters' music. Hooters has a great music taste. I could almost feel the tension in my nerves loosen up.
"You two, I hate to say this, but I have to go," Romilda said, a bit worried.
"What happened?" I asked, reflecting on my concerns.
"Kade needs me. I have to go."
"I hope it's not serious. Let me come with you." I said.
"No!"
Roms and Will both said in unison. Was I missing out on something? I looked at both of them questioningly.
"Kade has some private matters that need assistance," Romilda said.
"Okay, but why are you talking like a '90s marquess?"I asked.
Roms doesn't do private and assistance in one sentence. I knew that much to be called her friend.
"Uh-" She seemed startled.
"It's okay. Take care." I said, pulling her into a hug, I patted her back.
"Treat him well." She whispered in my ears.
Him, who? Will Turner? Well, that depends.
Roms stormed out of Hooters. The stilettos she put on were crazy for walking down the street. Maybe she'll get a cab.
I sighed as another set of young women greeted Will at our booth.
"They are drooling over you," I said, trying to be jovial.
"I am all that... Ain't I?" He said rather bashfully.
"If I were you, I would not say so." That seemed to take a toll on him. His eyebrows arched. His lips tried to get a bite of the chicken wings. Rather softly, he parted them, placing the corner in his mouth and devoured it gently. He swallowed and then smiled.
"You are staring." He said.
Shit. Watching Will Turner eat chicken wings made me tickle in places other than tickle spots. Hot.
"You have something on your face," I said, lying.
"Really? Where?" He asked, wiping the corner of his mouth with the tissue.
"Oh, let me help," I said.
I leaned closer to him, making my way to his seat. The lights turned off once again. Thank God, else he could not see me turning into a cherry tomato red. Caressing the corners of his mouth with my bare fingers, I traced his lips. They were gentle against my fingers. When the light filled in, his eyes met mine, and I felt a lump forming in my throat, unable to speak.
"The..re.. we go, "I said, finding it hard to get the words out.
He stared calmly, none of us speaking a word. The Hooters music filled the silence between us, and then there was his cologne. The musky scent his office is always reeking of- Will Turner edition.
I got back to my seat, getting a mouthful of chicken.
Rule 1 of dining at Hooters: Eat the chicken wings till you can't eat in seven lifetimes.
Rule 2: Hold your alcohol because the staff is females- no muscles to carry you around.
Rule 3: Maintain distance from a sexy man with soft lips.
I was trying hard to follow all of them.
After the lip tracing incident, Will barely made a half-ass joke. Instead, he would catch a glance sometimes and look away when our eyes met. It was getting awkward between us.
"There you go!" Will smiled at the young blonde in Hooters' uniform.
I took her to be nineteen, or at the best twenty. Her physique was lean, and she wore studs with dark eyeliner. Will gave her a 1-C note tip. She eyed him adorably for a while and turned away. So Will Turner was into thin, petite blondes? That's his ideal type.
***
Ten minutes after dinner
"Come, Eva, I will drop you."
I was stalling in the neighborhood, and surprisingly Will didn't leave me alone. I turned down his proposal of dropping me off at Miss Mason's. I had not decided how to apologize to him without sounding like a fool.
I sighed in and walked up to Will's car.
"Let's go somewhere else first," I said, meeting his eyes.
"Okay, but get in the car." He scoffed, and I looked at him pointedly.
Bad news. Grumpy Will is back. Not my fault if he can't take a no.
"No, you get out of the car," I interjected, and the car door flung open.
"Now, where are we going?"He asked.
His fingers ran across the back of his head.
"Some place good," I said and started walking.
He followed me closely, and I walked slow, just in case he left behind.
Ninth Street was the best. It had the best ice cream place. That's where I planned to take Will before I dropped the bomb. It's just in the opposite corner of the block, and we could walk there in no time. All I was worried about was the possibility that I will get fired.
Ten minutes later, the neon lights from the board flashed onto our faces.
"Sara's Smoothies and Gelato?" Will said. His eyes lightened up.
Note to self: Everyone loves ice cream.
"That's not it," I said, and his face dropped.
"How's this your 'someplace good' then?"Will asked, really frustrated this time.
If I overlooked the fact that he was my boss, there was no reason for me to bring him to my favorite place.
"Stop complaining. I swear you won't regret this."I knew what I was doing.
I was in my right head when I led us down the narrow alley next to Sara's Smoothies and Gelato. We stood before a rusty iron door, and I knocked twice.
"Password?"
The voice came from inside.
"Alohomora," I said.
The door flew open. I turned to find Will gaping at me, surprised.
"Is this Harry Potter or what?" He joked. Bloody muggle!
"Stop being a dick!" I scoffed. He raised his brow, to my amazement.
"Stop being a pussy!" He retorted.
"At least the pussy's stronger!" I said, as his jaw fell open. Ugh, guys.
"Welcome to Sara's secret ice cream bar!"The old lady in uniform said as we entered.
The bar had a glass door leading to a dining table with two solitary chairs, staring at the view of city lines that connect Fordshire with New York. A miniature of buildings lined up at the horizon, with the Hudson river cutting between the two metropolitan. The street lights on the other end looked like fireflies suspended on a rod. If I apologize for what I have done right here, chances were he might forgive me. I sighed.
When I turned around, I found Will staring at the scenic beauty. To my amazement, he reached for my hand. His fingers entwined with mine and I pretended it was normal. I looked at the view, trying to ignore the tickle in my stomach.
"This is awesome!"Will said, smiling. For a man who runs a million dollar business, how clueless is he? Perhaps no taught Will Turner how to not say stuff like 'awesome' when he held an employee's hand.
"Can you- can you let go of my hand?" I said, stuttering like a stupid.
"Oh! Sorry. Guess I got a little excited." He said, yanking his hand off me as if he had touched trash. Somehow, I felt hurt. Maybe, it was the beer.
As we sat down, facing each other with the city lines against the backdrop, I couldn't help but feel the romantic edge to everything. The wind was calm, the night blossomed with a full moon, and right outside the glass door, we had all flavors of ice cream to try out.
I hadn't seen him smile like that back at Hooters. Like the secrecy of Sara's secret ice-cream bar, this smile of his was a novelty known only to me.
"It's exclusive to Potterheads only." I said, as my eyes sparkled with nostalgia.
"Wow. So all you had to was act like you were twelve or something and you get to have gelato here?" He said sardonically.
"You don't have to take the piss out of all things!" I said satirically.
"You're a killjoy, Mellon!"
"And you're a sadist!" I said, and he clenched his jaw. Maybe I said too much.
"What would you like to have?" The old lady attendant asked.
"I will have my usual- Fordshire delight!" I said.
Before I could ask Will what he would have, he spoke for himself.
"The same as hers. Extra nuts, please!" He said.
"Do you even know what a Fordshire Delight is?" I interrogated and he shook his head.
"If it's frog flavored ice-cream, you get to have two!" he said with a wink.
The old lady dismissed herself. She was back with two bowls filled with Fordshire Delight, one of which looked like a nut volcano exploded there. Fordshire Delight was two scoops of strawberry ice cream, one scoop of vanilla, and half a scoop of chocolate ice cream topped with cashew nuts, choco chips, and pistachios, garnished with vanilla shavings.
"Bon appetit!" She said and my eyes met with Will's.
For seven minutes, we said nothing, letting the ice cream melt in our mouths with every other spoon of Fordshire delight.
Will had closed his eyes to ravish in the exquisite, nut volcano version of his Fordshire delight.
"It's funny you don't remember half of the things at work and still know the secret key code to this place!" He chuckled.
I shouldn't have brought this jackass to such a place. Had it not been that god-forsaken vase!
"I have to say something. I know this isn't the right moment, but I should tell you sooner!"I said.
Will was all attentive. His grey eyes were dead serious, and hope sparkled from his irises.
"What?" Will asked, and I stared at him longer.
"It's not like I forgot it in the first place..."I said, finding the courage to say the words.
"I am sorry for breaking the red vase in your office!" I said with my eyes shut tight.
"You did that?" He sneered. His eyes burned up with rage. His demeanor shifted to his rude, old self. Not the intended effect.
"I am sorry!"I said as tears burned in my eyes.
He was not happy. Angry is the word, and he made it apparent.
"You better be." He said.
Tears dripped down my eyes, and I couldn't comprehend why I was crying. But I couldn't stop them on my own accord, so I let them flow.
"We'll sort the thing at work. Get up. We are leaving."He said, and I followed him instinctively, not knowing what else to do.
We walked back to the parking lot at Hooters in dead silence, got in, and drove to Miss Mason's place. The air felt dry, the streetlights too dim, and the city sounds were all but a mere ring in the background. What's wrong with me? When did I give Will Turner the power to make me cry? The questions banged against my head.
Will Turner became more of a mystery to me with every moment that passed in the absolute dread of a drive. His eyes storm grey had vials of anger, not meeting mine when I got on the sidewalk and walked to the apartment. I wished for him to forgive me badly. Though that's easier said than done.
When he drove away from Fifth Street, he knew it. When I walked the thirty hell of steps to my apartment, I knew it. Deep down, we all know it. There's something terrible that I had done to Will Turner, and it includes the red vase.