Working at Hi-Five feels like a trip to Disneyland, one of my bucket lists for summer activity with Isla before she goes to her new school. I hope I can get a few days off to do it. Regarding the school, it's still a matter in process, and I'm happy Camilla is helping me pull some strings with her contacts to speed things up.
So far, things are moving astoundingly well.
It's almost three weeks now since I moved to New York, and I'm closing five days from my new job at Hi-Five. I barely had a word with Adrian; the last time we talked, two or three days ago, I snapped at him for planting his men on skate outside our house. As far as I'm concerned, we broke up, which means he doesn't need to protect me like the bag of responsibility I have been to him since the first day we met.
We argued a lot, but he gave in.
My focus has been on my job no matter how many times I think of him, dream of him, and worry about his safety the same way he worries about mine. If it's a toxic relationship, I believe we've both swallowed a lethal poison that keeps us closer yet very far away from each other as each day bleeds into a new one. I'm not sure what is it that we share, but I can't bring myself to accept that it's love because it's too complex to be one.
"Another overtime, newbie?" asks Duncan, the finance director and head of the department: an interracial hunk who reminds me of Duke of Hastings in Bridgeton—thanks to him I finished a season.
Well, Duncan is that hot but very unfriendly.
"Yeah. I gotta finish these and start a new next week." I smile at him, and he nods with his thick wry eyebrow raised high before he locks the glass door of his office and scurries away.
Hi-Five consists of nerds, weirdos, and hippies, but they all seem good and happy with what they do. They're mostly young people, minding their own business with their computers and robots and hoverboards; I see most of them moving through the halls using those tech monsters that Jake would die for.
I've had the pleasure of visiting the most loved parts of the company. Cafeteria, the usability lab where they test new and ongoing renovations of Hi-Five products, and Ellington's penthouse office which felt like a tech fanatic lair. I don't think there's anything he does without a machine, that guy, and he enjoys being lazy.
Justice for the human race.
Speak of the devil, a small knock on the door accompanies my CEO's voice. "I'm having dinner at this rustic, Mediterranean restaurant next block, care to join? It's Friday and in Hi-Five we take everything seriously, resting and loosening up being one of them. You work too much, Bella. Come on, my treat."
Bella. That's his nickname for me, I presume.
"Um..." My eyebrows remain arched for a good while as I look at him, a smiling blue-eyed blonde in his late twenties, wearing a casual white suit and a pair of very fine Jordans. "Okay. I could use some real food," I give in, tearing my gaze off the computer after a long day of feeding financial reports into a digital database.
It was the first thing I was taught. It's not hard to do, but a bit time-consuming since it's a new system they developed themselves to protect their financial information that recently suffered a malware attack, not that I recall the technical explanations I was given.
A glass elevator sends us down the lobby. A few floors beneath mine are still with lights on; some people are still at work. I see the gym, the one I intend to abuse since I got the employee discount, and then a department store where they sell the Hi-Five products such as game packages, monitors, and VR sets.
"How is work?" Ellington breaks the silence upon abandoning his mobile; he's always typing something on his phone. "Are you catching up?" He smiles indulgently.
"Yeah." I smile back. "Had some mishaps, but nothing can't be fixed over time."
"Good. Baby steps. What's your take on us, now that you got a small glimpse of what we do?" Ellington asks, and he sounds genuinely curious.
"Um, so far I'm only aware of your finances, Ellington, and it's impressive how you rolled from one to ten in the course of five years since you started Hi-Five.." It's the truth, but I figure he wanted to hear more.
Well, I don't play video games. Not yet. But I guess I should.
"It hasn't been easy, but we call it determination. The secret is to aim higher, go for it, and never be satisfied with adequate." He grins, surprisingly cool and satisfied with my short-sighted comment about his company.
I click my tongue, studying him with an elusive smile. I know books can be cooked, but this guy makes a whole lot of money from selling the game he made in high school, just like Jake, and it makes me wonder if selling Jake's game to him was a good idea or a rushed one.
"You think Survival will be a kick once it's launched in the market?" I ask him about Jake's game.
"Of course." He sounds confident. "I never bet on a losing team, Bella. Your brother has a bright future ahead of him, and I promise to nurture it. In fact, I'm planning to invite him over in a few weeks. He must be here to do the honors of testing the enhanced VR experience of Survival. I wanted to surprise him but... Well, no harm done, you can keep it yourself until then, right?"
I smile and reply, "Of course. I'll be happy to have him surprised."
We step out of the elevator, and through the crispy evening air, I slip into his Bugatti. We head to a restaurant, just the two of us, and I'm not sure if it's okay or not. All I'm sure of is that I can take care of myself and he's someone I'm curious about for the sake of Jake.
So far he's been good to me. I hear praises about him, but oh-not-so-good press regarding his playboy reputation which is none of business. He's rich, famous, young, and successful. A Swedish blonde with island blue eyes and a sexy accent.
He's most women's type.
Come to think of it, Ellington and I have had lunch twice in the cafeteria, together with Cheryl and Duncan. This is our first solo encounter, however, and I hope it's only friendly because I'm beyond being his new conquest unless he fancies playing with ticking bombs.
"I'm curious about something," he says as we take a seat inside a brick-wall restaurant that looks like a rabbit hole from the outside, while it's all ritzy and fancy inside.
I do not comment on that.
"About what?" Ignoring the mellow piano instrument in the background, I set my purse on the hardwood table accented with tablecloth and candles.
A gentle smile breaks on Ellington's youthful face that hardly knows the dark hardship of the world. Perhaps I'm rendered submissive to prejudice, but he's like a prince raised in some castle in Stockholm—not a single scratch on his skin. I guess he would freak out if he saw my scars, and maybe skip dinner if he knew my darkest secrets.
The idea makes me laugh inwardly.
"You and Adrian Castle," he begins hesitantly, curiously, "are you dating? I'm inclined to believe you were together that morning in the hotel so..."
How does he know I was with Adrian in the hotel? I don't know how to rake it, but I sure know how to fake my reaction and pretend it doesn't matter.
I smile casually. "Not particularly. It was just a one-night stand...I don't do dating and don't bother asking me why because I won't tell."
Ellington rears himself back, intrigued. Delicate hands on the table, with an expensive digital watch around his left wrist, he asks, "You don't appear to me as that kind of a girl."
"What kind of a girl do I appear in your intelligent eyes, dare I ask?" I like where this is going in a manner that distracts me from the stressful thoughts haunting me day and night.
It sounds like an innocent interrogation, but my inner radar detects some hidden intentions.
"A good girl. Committed. A family girl," he replies, still wearing his charming smile like a crown.
"Well, have you considered that it may be because that's what I want people to see when they look at me?" I retort. He narrows his eyes, considering my statement. I lean forward into the table, a bit of a playful look in my eyes, and add, "We all wear masks, Ellington. We all let people see what we want them to see and not otherwise. But one thing is correct in your assumption of me; I am a family girl. I could kill... Or die to protect my siblings and the people I consider family."
I hear his heavy breath running through his nose before he says, "That's quite deep, but I can't bring myself to argue," and then he falls back in his chair, smiling slimly.
"I knew you wouldn't argue," I say with quiet laughter, "because having dinner alone with you means I'm at risk of appearing in news tabloids tomorrow as one of your many conquests."
Some guilt washes over him, but he manages to smile it away. "Not everything written there is true," he claims.
"What a classic answer." I chuckle. "I'm sure you're used to it"—I lay my eyes on the menu placed on the table—"because, in the end, everyone believes what they want to believe. Except, I do hope there's not a single paparazzi here taking a photo of us because I'm not ready for drama, especially the one involving my boss. You." I look up at him.
He gazes over the neighbor tables, and then back at me while smiling boyishly. "I guess it's too late for that."
He's joking, right? I squint my eyes.
"Does that mean you're not afraid of Adrian Castle?" I play his mind game.
"What?" He bursts out laughing, head laid back. "I'm not afraid of him. I'm just... I respect him, that's all. He's one of the few people I remotely owe my success to."
Smoothly, I reply, "Oh. I see."
"However, I wouldn't want to be in the disfavor of Adrian Castle," Ellington adds out of the blue.
I only lift my eyes, letting my face stilled toward the menu. "In what regard exactly?"
"He's a private person. Very private that I never know when he comes or leaves the city or anything he does. He's like a ghost that appears per his own accord; he can't be summoned." He laughs a bit, as though he's getting heebie-jeebies just thinking of it. Then he gets serious and sits upright. "Well, you mentioning the tabloids had me wonder what would happen if he were to find out that I'm having dinner here with his girlfriend, or a one-night stand, by any chance, and—"
I interrupt him with a burst of loud, carefree laughter. Honestly, he sounds like a scared high school nerd, petrified to be caught in the bleachers by the school bad boy just because he's having a private lesson with his girlfriend.
It's cute.
"Okay, I sound like a cuckoo, right?" he asks me with laughter dancing in his gorgeous blue eyes, conscious of my take on his insinuation.
I nod and reply, "It's just dinner, Ellington. You're my boss, and I'm no one's property. I belong to no one!"
Maybe the last part is a blurring line between the truth and the lie.
I do want to belong to one person.
Maybe I already am.
It's sick. I am sick.
"Okay," Ellington says, seeming relieved. "Food time. You ready to order?"
"Yes, indeed. I'm famished and it's a pizza night at home, which makes me in need of real food that my roomies don't seem to fancy." I slap the menu on the table, thinking of everything this guy made me think of out of nowhere.
How do I break Adrian's heart?
___
It's almost eight when I reach home. I watch Ellington's Bugatti slide away and let the cleansing air from the trees perched in our front yard do the magic on my fatigue. The lights are on inside the house, so my two roomies are home doing the usual stuff they usually do on Friday nights. Animation, pizza, and popcorn.
But before I go in, I see a peculiar sedan parked in the driveway, the very same place Adrian's men have been skating for days until the day before yesterday. I scoff, finding this daunting arrangement of his utterly bothersome. And the fact that he ignored my warning stirs my anger at my deepest core.
"Open it!" I knock on the car window repeatedly while saying this.
After almost a minute, the tinted glass scrolls down and a cold face of a beaded man streams halfway from the top of his bald head to his neck. Moreover, there's a prominent scar of old stitches from below his eye and onto his cheekbone that I fail to see properly due to the darkness in the car.
I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up, for his eyes feel like a mirror of evil. Too cold. Too Malicious. I've never seen him before, nor do I wish to do it again. But I keep my cool by pretending not to notice the danger he exudes, or that I'm threatened by his strong and disturbing aura.
"Sorry, Mister, but this is a private area, you can't park here," I tell him.
Instead of answering, he twists the key to ignition. The engine roars gently, and without tearing his freezing glare away from me, he pulls a reverse and drives away.
"What the fuck," I murmur under my breath, watching the sedan disappear into the shadows.
I'm sure he's not one of Adrian's men by any means. Which leaves me with one intriguing question: Who is he and why was he here? Eyes squinted by the mystery, I cock my head aside and it's our house that I see at this angle almost perfectly.
_________
A/N: We hate Adrian, so here we go with Ellington. Do we want him in the picture? Haha, I'm eagerly waiting for your next ship to sail.