Ashley's POV
I did the first thing I thought of instinctively.
I pulled Ivy into a hug, facing her back against Tristan. I couldn't let him see her.
"What are you doing? You are going to mess up your hair." Ivy said, pulling away.
I hugged her even tighter. "Tristan is coming," I whispered to her.
Ivy paused as she too was taken by surprise.
Tristan was getting even closer.
"You poor thing, don't worry, everything will be alright," I spoke loudly, rubbing Ivy's back.
"Thank you," Ivy answered.
Without another word, she pulled away from the hug. She kept her head down as she pretended to cry so that Tristan wouldn't see her. She had her hands covering her face.
Tristan approached me. "Her boyfriend just broke up with her." I lied.
I guess lies come easily to me these days.
Tristan paused and stared at Ivy's back in an attempt to see if he could recognize her.
"We should leave," I pulled at his arms.
He redirected his attention to me. "You look very beautiful tonight." He whispered.
I saw Ivy turn around as she gave me the thumbs up.
What was wrong with her? She was really looking for trouble tonight.
I couldn't risk the chance of Tristan seeing her.
"I know," I answered. "We have to go now," I insisted.
I dragged his arm behind me as I tried to walk as quickly as I could to the back entrance.
Wait, what did Tristan just say?
Soon, it was Tristan who was leading the way. He strode so effortlessly on his long legs.
We arrived at the back entrance. It was a large open area with a concrete floor. There were a few cars parked and a few plants decorating the place. There were also large metal gates separating it from the outside. Not many people used this entrance, except for a few celebrities and politicians who didn't want to be seen. You never know who you are liable to run into back here. The staff had their own entrance.
We stopped in front of a Rolls-Royce Cullinan. A valet handed Tristan the car keys. Tristan opened the door, gesturing for me to step in. Without a word, I entered the car.
I took a moment to admire the car as I settled myself into its leather seats. I had never been in one of these before.
Tristan was driving tonight because he took the front wheel.
During the drive, I did not speak a word. I don't know why I felt this nervous. I was fiddling with my fingers and looking at everyone else on the outside, rushing to get home.
Luckily Tristan didn't bother making conversation either as he focused most of his attention on the road. He filled the silence by playing some music on the radio.
The car came to an abrupt halt in front of a building. The words Emerald Courtyard were written in bold. Something about the name of the restaurant felt strangely familiar.
There was a fountain in front of the building, with two security guards guarding the door. The glass wall gave a view of the guests inside. Some were sitting and laughing among themselves.
Without a word, Tristan stepped out of the car and circled around it.
My senses were assaulted by the cold weather as Tristan opened the car door.
He offered his hand, helping me to step out of the car.
Tristan handed his keys to the valet.
This time he was the one holding my arm as I followed along.
"I booked a private area for the two of us," he explained.
I didn't pay much attention to his words; I was still recovering from the tingles I felt as our hands touched. It was doing something to my brain, slowly killing all the logic I had left in me. His grip on my hand tightened as I tried to slowly pull away.
We stepped into the restaurant. There were tables around the room, most of them occupied. There was a violinist playing in the background. There was a sweet lavender scent filling the room.
We walked farther into the restaurant toward the end where we took the elevator. Tristan pressed the button for the last floor in the building.
We finally reached the top floor. We stepped out of the elevator and walked onto a terrace.
I noticed the dolphin-shaped fountain. Lights decorated the place with all sorts of green tropical plants surrounding us. There was a carefully formed pathway that led further down.
Over our heads, there was a pyramid-shaped glass roof, protecting us from the harsh winds outside.
"It's beautiful," I managed to whisper.
"I've seen prettier," he answered looking over at me.
A waiter soon emerged from the terrace and approached us.
"Welcome Mr Montenegro," the waiter greeted. He gestured for us to follow him down the pathway.
He led us to the centre of the terrace. There were wooden planks that formed a stage and an open rooftop. It had a table in the centre with candles lighting up the place instead of lights.
It would just be the two of us.
The candles were dim, helping to create a romantic mood. I could still see the majestic view of the city's skyscrapers further down.
The waiter left, leaving Tristan and I alone after he had shown us to our table.
Tristan was quick to move. He pulled out a chair and motioned for me to sit. I hesitantly obliged. Everything felt so unreal. How was I even going to survive an entire evening with him alone?
Tristan walked across the table to his own seat.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked as he settled himself in.
He paused for a moment. "Well, I thought that since you saved me, I might as well give you the date you deserve." He answered.
I turned away anxiously, diverting my eyes to the menu.
A woman cleared her throat. "Good evening, I'm Cecilia. I'll be your waitress for the night," the woman said.
I kept my eyes glued to the menu.
All wait, I know that voice!
A quick glance at her confirmed my suspicions. It was my mother's friend Cecilia. She also happened to live down our street.
If my mom finds out about this, I'd be screwed. I'd have to tell my mom everything and I already knew she would kill me. I didn't want my mom or anyone else involved in this mess.
If Cecilia saw me, it was a guarantee that I'd be the talk of our neighbourhood for at least the next two weeks. She stayed just two doors away from our house.
I panicked as I took in my surroundings. I quickly grabbed the neatly folded flower-shaped napkin on the table. I covered half of my face with it while trying to keep my head down.
I turned my head away, hoping I'd become invisible. I probably looked like I was crying.
This only seemed to draw more of Tristan's attention to me. "Are you okay?" Tristan asked.
I noticed both of them were staring. "I'm fine, it's just hormones." I tried to answer in a deep voice.
I allowed the strands of loose hair to fall into my face.
Maybe it would be better if I ran to the restroom until Cecilia was gone. Better yet, I'd just tell Tristan I'm sick and go home.
"What would you like to eat?" Tristan asked.
"You can order anything," I answered.
Food was my last concern.
Tristan was hesitant for a moment, probably trying to figure out what was wrong with me.
He continued to order our food. Cecilia wrote the order down on her small notepad as she nodded at his every word.
"I'll get it from here," a voice interrupted.
It was a man stepping in, also another waiter.
"Thanks for covering for me Cecilia," the man whispered to her.
The name Reid was on his nametag.
Cecilia nodded before leaving with a smile.
That was a save. At least she wasn't going to be our waiter for the night.
I had to stay vigilant but at least now I could start behaving like a normal person.
I pulled the napkin away, satisfied that the coast was now clear.
Tristan either ignored my little stunt or he just didn't care.
Reid returned soon after with our drinks, placing two glasses of cranberry juice for both Tristan and I.
Tristan cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So, why did you decide to save me tonight?" He asked. He fixed his gaze on me, his eyes studying my every move.
How was I supposed to answer him?
I shrugged. "I don't know," I answered. "I just thought to myself, what would be the easiest way to get a free dinner out of someone and there you were," I answered sarcastically.
"After I had already offered?" he asked.
"You are lucky I was there. You looked like you had nothing to say. You were practically begging me to save you. You should be thankful; I'm just doing you a favour." I rumbled.
"Good," he answered. "I thought I got a sense of jealousy from you, Ms Owens." He smirked.
His words took me by surprise. "Me?" I answered in astonishment. "I would have liked to see the two of you together, that way you can talk about nothing but shoes all day." I joked.
He laughed. "That would be great. I have a classic collection if you would like to see one of these days." He joked.
"That is some real talk to Madison right there. If you are lucky, the waiter will bring in a mirror for dessert so you can both stare at your own faces." I joked.
It's not my fault, I'm just fatally attractive. What do you think about putting my face on every wall in the hotel, so I'd be the first thing people see when they wake up?" He joked.
"That would be great. It would surely help to increase the death rate in this country. Everyone would wake up with a heart attack. How traumatic for everyone to have to see your face every day." I continued.
Both of us laughed. He was a lot easier to talk to than I thought.
The waiter returned with our food. I was surprised when three other guys followed behind him and they laid out the different dishes on the table. Caviar, salads, pasta, ramen, kebab, paella, I'd list them all but most of them were exotic, I had no idea what they were.
"Why did you order all this food?" I asked.
"Well, I wasn't entirely sure of what you wanted to eat so I thought I'd order a little bit of everything." He answered.
"Well, if I eat all of this, there is hardly going to be any room left for a baby," I answered.
He dug into our food, both of us dishing for ourselves.
"Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?" he asked.
"What do you want to know?" I asked. I brushed the loose strands of hair away from my face in what would almost look like a playful manner. Great, now he'll think I'm flirting with him.
He cleared his throat. "Do you have any relatives on your mom's side?" He asked.
"No, we are not in touch with any of them. It has always just been my mom, my sister and I." I answered. "Why are you asking any of this anyway?"
"Nothing, no reason at all." He answered.
"I have a question for you though. Did you ever consider running away from home?" I asked.
I imagined Tristan growing up with Layla. With how she is, I'm sure the thought must have crossed his mind.
"That's a tough one," he said taking a moment to think. "How about every time my mother made me wash the dishes. She wanted me to know what it was like to be poor so I wouldn't slack off at school." He answered.
"You wanted to run away from home because of washing dishes?" I laughed.
"And we had a dishwasher too." He continued. "Those were terrible dark times, having to stack every one of those plates in the dishwasher."
This time I was the one laughing.
"If you think that was bad, my grandma once tried to teach me how to fry an egg. It ended badly. At first, I refused because I told her it was child labour, when that didn't work, I told her I'd sue her for all the emotional and physical harm it would cost me." He continued.
"Sounds like you got away with a lot of things as a child," I said.
"No, my grandmother tried to bash my head with a pan. She said I couldn't file a lawsuit if I was dead." He continued. "No amount of money could ever make up for the therapy I needed after that day," he added.
By now my stomach was hurting from all the lying.
"If I ever tried that in my house, my mom would tell me there would be no food for me for a week. "I wouldn't dare refuse her," I replied.
"I considered that." He answered. "It was either I was going to starve to death or die of food poisoning. I chose instead to die with honour and starve myself to death. If a kid dies because his parents don't feed him for a week, that's a headline. But if I died because I couldn't make an egg, that would be stupid. I'm pretty sure my mom would have had someone write on my tombstone. He died for being stupid." He continued.
He continued to tell me more of his childhood stories, particularly the one about how he had almost sold all of his grandmother's jewellery.
"If I had been your grandmother, I would have slapped you for that," I answered in the middle of his story.
"Really?" He questioned; it was almost as if he was challenging me. "Do you realize that you are really short? You would have to grow first before you can slap me." He teased.
"Is that how it's going to be?" I asked. "Okay, Mr. Giganto," I teased.
"Yes shortcake," he answered teasingly.
Not that nickname.
"You call me shortcake again and I'll show you just how sweet this cake can be," I threatened pointing my fork at him.
Even my threats were no good, he just started laughing instead.
"Did you even reach puberty? I bet you are still the same height as you were fifteen years ago," he commented.
"I grew about two centimetres taller," I answered softly.
He continued to laugh, nearly choking on his food.
"It might not sound like a lot to you, but it was the last push I needed to finally reach the cupboard," I answered.
We spoke about everything and anything all at once, even the craziest things I had never expected him to talk about.
"Hot dogs have got to be the best food in the world," I stated proudly.
Tristan shook his head at me. "No, now I'm convinced you have no taste at all." He answered.
"One of these days I'm going to prove it to you," I added.
Our dessert came soon after as the waiters cleared the rest of our plates.
I had never expected that Tristan also had this side of him.
I had some caramel-topped ice cream for dessert. With everything else I had eaten, I barely had any room left.
My phone beeped. I looked at the screen to see it was a text from my sister.
The time on my phone screen sent me into a panic. It was nearly nine p.m. My mom knew I didn't have any night shifts. This meant that when I arrived home, there were going to be a lot of questions, that is if she wasn't already panicking and calling everyone we know to ask where I was. But then again, I hadn't received a single text from her.
"We should leave," I said in the middle of Tristan's story.
I pushed my chair back, ready to leave the restaurant.
"Is everything okay?" Tristan asked alarmed.
"It's really late, I have to get home now," I sighed.
I read my sister's text: Where are you? Mom said she is working late, I've been at home all alone.
At least my mom wasn't going to kill me yet.
"Are you sure? Do you perhaps want to have another drink or something before we leave?" He offered.
"I have to leave now," I insisted.
He didn't push any further. He looked at me disappointed before pushing out of his chair.
"What are you rushing home to?" He asked as we walked back to the elevator.
"Let's just put it this way: I'm in my mid-twenties with a job but I still have a curfew," I answered.
We stepped into the elevator. I pressed the button for the ground floor.
"So, you are like Cinderella now?" He joked.
"At least Cinderella had until midnight," I answered.
He chuckled.
I wasn't joking.
We were now standing outside the restaurant. We waited for the valet to return Tristan's car.
Crossing my arms over each other, I waited impatiently.
That's when I heard voices.
There were two women talking and walking toward us.
"You did an amazing job today; the chefs and the guests really loved your cakes. I'm sure they will ask you to deliver more soon." A woman spoke.
"Thank you so much, Cecilia," the other woman answered.
I recognized those voices.
I slowly turned around toward the source of the voices. It confirmed my suspension.
It was mom speaking to Cecilia. She was getting closer and would soon see Tristan and I together.
I couldn't let my mom see me here. This was not how I imagined she and Tristan would meet, not that I imagined them meeting at all.
I took in my surroundings, hoping there was some hole I could just crow in and hide.
I was trapped. My mother was just steps away and I couldn't think of another way to get out of this without drawing too much attention to myself. It seemed like the car wasn't going to arrive anytime soon.
I looked over at Tristan who did nothing but smile back at me.
I took that as an invitation.
Without warning, I wrapped my arms around Tristan, burying my face in his chest.
Mom's voice got louder as she and Cecilia continued walking.
Tristan didn't push me away. I could tell my actions had taken him by surprise as he stood there unresponsive.
Soon, he wrapped his arms around me, slowly rubbing his hands across my back.
I gripped his jacket a little bit tighter, hoping it would make me invisible and my mother or Cecilia wouldn't see me.
I inhaled his scent, falling further into addiction at every sniff. It felt warm. I felt like I belonged here, right here at this moment and nowhere else. For a moment, I forgot that I was hiding away from my mother.
"Are you okay?" He finally asked.
"I'm just cold," I lied. I didn't dare move an inch. I kept my arms around Tristan, holding him for dear life.
I felt Tristan pull away slowly.
Just like that, he left me exposed.
What was he doing? I was using him as a human shield.
I looked around for my mother. She was now walking away and at a distance. I couldn't risk her seeing me or Tristan. I needed to make sure she was gone first.
Tristan took off his jacket, placing it over my shoulders.
I hugged the jacket closer to me with a smile. It smelled just like him.
"Thank you," I muttered.
I returned my gaze to my mother, wanting to ensure she was completely out of sight.
Tristan must have noticed me staring because he turned his head trying to follow my gaze.
I didn't want him to see my mother. I wanted to end this mess as quickly as possible without involving my mother. Hopefully, the two of them never meet.
Without thinking, my hand reached for his cheek to turn his head away. The only problem was that he now had all his attention on me. His eyes were focused on me. I felt an electric shock down my arm from our touch.
I felt a cold shiver down my spine. This time I couldn't blame it on the wind.
Our eyes locked, and for a moment I forgot how to breathe.
The logical side of me told me to pull away, that I should run and take a taxi home because these feelings creeping up inside of me would only end up destroying me, but I didn't. I just stood there, knees weak, our eyes locked as I suddenly imagined what it would be like to kiss him. I was very much aware of how close we were. I hope he couldn't feel how fast my heart was beating.
"Mr Montenegro," I heard a crowd yell.
Both Tristan and I turned our heads towards the source of the voices.
Just then, there was a mob of paparazzi, all flashing their cameras in our faces.
I covered my face with my hand. I couldn't let them see me.
Tristan got the hint as well because he fielded me with his arms as he led me to the car that had now arrived.
The restaurant's security team helped us out as they created a path, blocking away the paparazzi to help us get to the car.
I sighed in relief as I stepped inside the car. Luckily the car had black windows. The paparazzi continued snapping photos.
I couldn't imagine seeing my face in front of all those tabloids tomorrow. I already had enough problems to deal with.
Tristan drove off. I was still in shock at what could have happened.
Did I really think that Tristan would kiss me?
I pushed the thought away, counting every second until I arrived home.
"You should just drop me off at the corner," I instructed. I was just minutes away from my house.
The car slowed down; Tristan parked in front of the house I had instructed him to.
"Thank you," I answered removing my seat belt.
"Are you embarrassed of me?" Tristan asked, his words taking me by surprise.
"What gave you that idea?" I paused.
Maybe I had been hiding away and not wanting people to see me with him. I was the one who suggested we use the back entrance. Even the first time he dropped me off I didn't let him stop in front of my house.
"I'm not embarrassed by you," I answered. "If I was seen with you, even just once, my mom's friends would stop asking me why I still don't have a boyfriend," I answered.
Somehow, that didn't seem satisfactory enough to Tristan.
I sighed.
"On a serious note. I can't let my mom see you, at least not right now." I answered. Or ever. "She would kill me if she saw me walking with you at this time of the night. Let alone find out I'm pregnant." I whispered the last part.
"I'm sure she is not that bad." He answered scratching the back of his head.
He wasn't giving up. Maybe it was time to put my creativity to the test.
"She was arrested, twice." I lied. "She beat up this guy with a blow-dryer really badly. The second time she was arrested was when she set this woman's hair on fire. It burned half her face." I continued.
I tried to maintain a serious expression throughout.
"I once murdered someone and got away with it." He spoke with a straight face.
I backed away into my seat in terror. Was he being serious right now?
"That was a joke," he laughed at my reaction. "You should let me walk you to your house. Mothers love me. Besides, the light outside the house is off, she probably isn't there." He answered.
Mom always kept the lights outside on. Katy didn't, despite mom warning her that it would help keep burglars away.
I did see mom at the hotel. Knowing her, she would probably take the bus home just so she could save that little bit of money. The bus takes a longer route. Maybe we could make it before she gets home. A five-minute walk wouldn't be too bad after all.
"Fine," I sighed. "I must warn you; you have to stay two meters away from me at all times. If I see any of my neighbours, I will walk quickly and pretend I don't know you." I warned pointing a finger. I was being very serious about this.
He laughed.
"If you get too close to me and I see anyone walking by, I will pretend like you are trying to rob me and run away screaming." I continued.
"Got it, boss," he replied, raising his hands.
He smiled as we both stepped out of the car.
Now that I think about it, this was stupid. He might as well drive me right up to my gate. But then again, my neighbours would start gossiping about the expensive car they saw.
We walked to my house in silence, the two of us just smiling to ourselves while trying to keep our eyes on the road ahead.
The walk seemed shorter than anticipated because we had arrived in front of my house.
We stopped in front of my gate.
"I had a great time tonight," Tristan said.
"Me too," I answered with a smile.
The two of us locked eyes for a moment before I noticed Tristan slowly stepping forward. Soon, there was hardly any space between us.
He was probably reaching for his jacket.
I backed away, hitting my back against our small metal gate. I took his jacket off.
"Here you go," I handed him the jacket.
"Oh," he muttered. For a second he looked like he had snapped back into reality. He took the jacket from my hand.
"Good night," I whispered.
Without further hesitation, I waved him goodbye and walked through the gate.
He was still staring behind me as I opened our front door.
Once I had entered the house, I pressed my back against the door just taking a moment for everything that had happened to sink in. I couldn't help but smile.
My smile quickly faded as my sister approached me with her hands crossed over each other.
"I have never seen two people more awkward," Katy commented. She shook her head at me in disapproval. She must have been watching us from the window. "The poor guy clearly wanted to kiss you," she added.
My fingers reached for my lips as a smile formed again on my face. Did he really? Why am I entertaining my sister right now?
"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping? Everyone else your age is already sleeping. Sleep is important for you so that you can grow." I snapped at her.
"Does that explain why you didn't?" she mocked.
I was one comment away from murdering this child. Everyone would understand why I did it.
I don't know where she got that idea. I was still taller than her.
"Just go to sleep," I said waving her off.
I walked past her heading to my room.
I shut the door to my bedroom. I throw myself on my bed to daydream about everything that happened.
We could have kissed. Would he have really kissed me back?
What would have happened if we had?
All these questions clouded my mind.
I still couldn't help but giggle at everything that had happened. I had never laughed so much with anyone in one night.
Our front door made its usual screeching sound.
Mom had arrived. I guess my peaceful night was over.
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A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Please vote and comment.
I hope you enjoy the festive season.