☾• 𝐑 𝐀 𝐑 𝐄 𝐒 𝐙 •☽
Nowhere || Shaker
She gave me a fake number.
How dare she? How dare-
I had assumed myself to be winning in life, but as soon as I came back home, slept for the next ten hours and woke up at one pm, the first thing I did after showering and taking some aspirin was call her.
The goddamn number didn't even exist.
I thought she was interested in me. The way she had spoken to me, had I been delusional? Had I been imagining things? I didn't understand. I was so confused, this had never happened to me.
If anything, girls were the ones who begged for my number. It truly puzzled me. I didn't lack anything: I had the money, the looks, the charisma, the personality, everything.
If so, then why did she give me a fake number?
My mind was in serious overdrive as I went to the gym to exercise with Izaiah and Miguel. I lifted more weights than I usually did, went for the intensive workout machinery and exerted all my anger into my motions.
"Bro, are you okay? I promise you, I've barely lifted those kind of weights." Miguel gave me a wary expression as I drank my water.
"I'm fine." I grumbled, finally meeting their adamant gazes, "I mean it."
"Do we look stupid to you? We've known you for years man, something's up. You look tense," Izaiah moved closer, and so did Miguel.
I sighed deeply, unlocking my phone with facial recognition then pressing on Kamaria's contact.
"Call her." I tossed it to them and they curiously studied the phone, gasping when it didn't go through.
"Wait, she actually gave you a fake number? What a Guinness World record in Rareșz's books." Their eyes were wide as they tried to call the number again to no avail.
"Fuck, she's a feisty one. That's odd, who gives the famous bachelor Rareșz Vizcaino a fake number? Majority of the females worship you," Miguel looked puzzled.
"Yeah well, she's the minority." I shrugged helplessly.
"Don't worry bro, there are many fish in the sea. Not the end of the world, delete the number and forget her. I'll hook you up." Izaiah said with a smirk, tossing the phone back to me.
The problem was, I didn't want anyone but her.
"No, I won't give up. I've got connections, I'll find her." They hollered at my statement.
"Is she that beautiful?" Miguel raised a brow.
"You have no idea. You know that moment where you want to slam her against the wall?" They hollered even louder.
"Wow, you're so determined. Bet she won't even fall in love with you, the only thing you care about is the sex." Izaiah scoffed and I gasped.
"What makes you think she won't fall in love with me? I'm irresistible, charming," I patted my chest and they both laughed.
"You're a player. See, she even gave you a fake number. She knows you're dangerous, hence she won't even put herself in that kind of position."
"Are you actually serious? Wanna bet? If I ever find her, she's going to fall in love with me. I just have that effect," I held out my large palm and they stared at each other with sly smiles.
They probably thought they were going to win the bet.
"Ten thousand? Minimum-"
"Fifty. Nothing I can't handle," I offered, and they both slapped my hand.
"Make sure you've got a hundred thousand dollars ready," Miguel got up with a smirk.
"And what makes you so confident that you're going to win?" I tilted my head.
"Oh, we will. She seems like a challenge, we're working with a girl in the minority," Izaiah winked, and I rolled my eyes when they began to laugh.
"Anyways, my parents asked me to go and try out their new restaurant tonight. You guys wanna come? Obviously, I'll send you the location. See you there." He placed a towel over his shoulder before leaving.
"He knows we could secretly fly to Egypt or France to miss this, right?" Izaiah gestured to him.
"He has a lot of sidechicks at the airport. Pretty sure he knows an air hostess from almost every plane. We'll be busted," I shrugged with a smile.
"Or we could use the private jet," he suggested.
"That doesn't sound like a bad idea at all." We both laughed at my remark.
----
By eight forty-five, we were settled in the extravagant restaurant that bustled with a lot of influencers, billionaires, celebrities and many other affluent people in society.
Izaiah, being the picture addict, forced us to get pictures right outside the restaurant for his social media before we entered.
The restaurant was absolutely great; the service was relatively efficient, the delectable dishes had scrumptious and the lavish environment exuded luxury.
Miguel had been the one to order the most food, and Izaiah obviously got the least. It didn't help that it consisted of greens, his usual hummus and some different, fancy vegetables arrayed exquisitely in his plates and bowls. He was very conscious about his appearance, it amused me.
"Gotta text your dad and tell him he did an excellent job opening up a fifth restaurant." Izaiah leaned back, dipping his spoon into his Peach Melba.
"You know he's a money-maker. Any industry that seems to generate lots of income, he'll perfect." Miguel shrugged. He was a chef himself, a reason why his father asked him to come and review the food.
The waiters seemed to have an idea of who he was because they were all hovering around our table, constantly checking if we were satisfied, refilling our wines and replacing the utilised cutlery every now and then.
They offered us way more than we had actually ordered, bringing an extra array of hors d'oeuvre at the beginning, and they added more to the stages as the night progressed.
"We ordered another bottle of wine, didn't we?" Izaiah questioned, tipping back the last bit of it in his glass.
"Yeah. I'm sure they're on it, oh, there it is." He gestured behind me and I turned, the cold immediately flooding my body as I realised who it was.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"That's her, the girl who gave me the fake number," I whisper-yelled and they both gasped, their eyes simultaneously averting to her.
"Holy shit, she's smoking hot man. I see why you're in a chokehold-"
"Shut the fuck up. I want you both to act natural, okay?" I gave them warning looks, but the smirk on Miguel's face wasn't promising.
"Hmm. Whatever, I'll get her number for you though since you failed," I couldn't respond because she had already arrived at our table, looking equally mortified to see me.
Well, if this isn't fate-
"Good evening sweetheart," Izaiah was the first to acknowledge her, winking shamelessly.
Kamaria smiled, looking very shy as her hands trembled around the bottle. She was nervous, cute.
"Good evening Sirs." She looked down briefly, avoiding my best friends' unnerving gazes.
"What have we done to be graced by your beauty tonight?" Miguel said smoothly, bringing her at a complete loss for words. I was seconds away from kicking his ass.
"I thought so too. We're captured by your perfection." Izaiah added, the smile on her face inexplicable. She was starting to look very flustered.
"Thank you," it was merely an adorable squeak, and it didn't help that the both of them cooed in response. "I brought your wine."
"Go ahead," Miguel gestured to the table.
She easily poured for both of them, clearly preparing herself to come by my right side and refill my glass.
I watched her all the while as she approached me, her body shivering slightly and with an unstable grip, she trickled the liquid into my wine glass, doing her best to avoid my gaze.
Moving my hand off the table, she was startled and accidentally spilled the contents onto my shirt, gasping in horror when that happened.
"Oh my word, I'm so sorry. So sorry, sorry sorry." Her hands frantically reached for my chest and attempted to wipe it off, as though the stain would vanish from the action.
"It's okay. Don't worry about it," I tried to push her hands away but they were soon back on my chest, and I felt them move slower over my abs, her eyes widening as she felt the defined eight pack underneath.
"Like what you're feeling, love?" I whispered and her breathing uneven. She slowly pulled away, looking utterly embarrassed and apologetic.
"I'm really really sorry, I'm, oh my I'm such an idiot-"
"Don't stress sweetheart, he said it was fine." Izaiah assured her, and it wasn't long until the maitré'd had noticed her blunder.
"Oh gentlemen, we're deeply sorry for this. We promise you, it won't happen again." He was giving Kamaria a silent glare as she lowered her head, disguising her tears.
She left the table, and another waiter came but I was worried about Kamaria. I had a bad feeling. An adamant one. I got up and the boys hollered, well aware of my destination.
"You're down bad Rareșz," Miguel winked, "go after your girl, we won't stop you."
I ignored them, making my way to the kitchen despite it being a place limited to staff members.
"You don't deserve to be here, do you know who those people are? We can't afford to make those kind of mistakes, that's Miguel Ricci and his close friends. We'll all be fired overnight if Emilio Ricci hears about this." He was reprimanding my innocent Kamaria, and my fists clenched in fury.
I didn't like him talking to my girl in that kind of tone, it was unacceptable.
"I didn't mean to-"
"Don't say anything, you should be ashamed. You've disgraced all of us tonight, everyone's effort has gone to waste, you don't even deserve your paycheck-" he trailed off when he noticed me entering, his skin going pale white.
I moved over the teary-eyed Kamaria, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close to my body. She sobbed into my chest, gripping my still damp shirt but that didn't matter.
I was happy that my body was producing enough warmth to comfort her, seeing that she buried her face deeper.
"How dare you raise your voice at my girl like that?" I looked down at the now timid man, all his previous confidence vanished. People had stopped what they were doing to witness this.
"Mr. Vizcaino, I deeply apologise-"
"An apology to me? No, I don't need it. But she does," I gestured to the crumbling girl in my arms. It hurt me to see her cry like this, it infuriated me. "Baby, don't cry, he wants to apologise." I whispered quietly and she lifted her head, sniffling slightly as she faced him.
"Get on your knees and beg for her forgiveness, now." My deep, authoritative voice commanders, and despite his shocked expressions, he still dropped to his knees.
"I'm sorry Kamaria-"
"Say it like you mean it." I cut him off and he flinched, clearing his throat with a sigh.
"I'm deeply sorry for the way I conducted myself, Kamaria, and I shouldn't have raised my voice at you and it won't happen again." He spoke with his head low.
"It's okay, Rick." She smiled. Wow, such a pure soul. I know I'd never forgive anyone for publicly embarrassing me. And quite frankly, I wanted to exercise a little authority so that no one would ever mess with her again.
"Thank you for your services. They're no longer required here, have a splendid evening." I told him and everyone in the kitchen gasped.
"But-"
"Thirty minutes, is all you have." I spoke calmly, "I'm sure Emilio won't be so nice if he hears about your unruly conduct." I said with a smirk before ushering Kamaria out of the kitchen and all the way to the bathrooms.
"Here, are you okay, love?" I held her face between my hands once I had locked the door.
"Yes. Thank you for your help back there, I really appreciate it. And I'm sorry about your shirt," she gave me a sad smile.
"No problem. To be honest, if it means that I get to feel your hands all over me, then I'd gladly have more wine staining my shirt." I shrugged with a smile, and I could tell she had begun blushing as usual.
"Stop, do you always flirt this much?" She raised her brows.
"Again, when it's necessary." I moved closer to her. "You did me dirty, love."
"What?"
"Now don't play dumb. But know what you did, the fake number," I whispered against her ear as she shivered.
"I didn't think you'd actually call-"
"Why not? You know I said I would text you, I keep my promises." My hand hovered over her lower back. God, I wanted to eat her good on the counter.
"Oh. I didn't know if you were genuine," she looked down but she tilted her chin up to face me.
"Do you want me to show you, just how genuine I am?" My voice was a resonant murmur.
"Rareșz, we barely know each other-"
"I know, and this feels crazy. It feels like I've known you all my life," I held her face between my hands once again, "please Kamaria. I can't stop thinking about you, and trust me, I tried."
"Only one night?"
"One night, then I'll stay away-"
"No, I mean. Can you make me a promise?" She gave me her brown doe eyes that made me so weak in the knees.
"Anything,"
"If we do this tonight, then we'll have to make a genuine connection." She tilted her head.
In other words, she was asking me to commit. Fuck.
I really needed a good release, and I wanted her so desperately. My sexual desires were carnal and raw, I didn't think twice about agreeing to the taboo of my bachelor life.
"I promise."