Millie
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Saturday morning, I sat in the seating area of the mall, my heart raced with anticipation. I nervously glanced around, checking the time on my phone every few seconds. My gaze drifted to the crowd passing by, and my thoughts wandered to the man I was waiting for. I brushed a strand of hair behind my ear and adjusted my posture, trying to calm my nerves. My mind was flooded with thoughts of what I should say when he arrives. Will I come across as confident, or will my nerves get the best of me?
The soft chatter of people around me provided some comfort, and I took a deep breath, trying to focus on the present moment. I watched as families with young children stroll by, their laughter and joy infectious. As I waited, my eyes keep darting around the area, scanning for any sign of him. I played with a loose strand of hair, a nervous habit I couldn't seem to shake off. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slow, each passing moment increasing my anxiety.
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a familiar figure approaching. I could feel my heart rate increasing as he came into view. My heart jumped into my throat. I felt a rush of mixed emotions, including excitement and nervousness. His casual outfit, a simple t-shirt and jeans that hugged his muscular legs, seemed to highlight his confident and laid-back demeanor. His brown hair was styled in a way that gave him an effortlessly cool look, as if he didn't have to try to look good.
As Roman approached me, I could feel my nerves start to dissipate. His charming smile spread across his face, making my heart skip a beat. The sight of him was both comforting and exhilarating, leaving me breathless. His hazel eyes, with flecks of green and brown, seem to sparkle as he came closer. They were deep and intense, capturing my gaze with their warmth.
He settled into the seat across from me, his eyes wandering around the surroundings, seemingly curious as to why I had asked him to meet me here. But he didn't seem inclined to question it, prompting me to quickly offer an explanation.
"I thought it would be best to meet on neutral ground," I began, my words rushing out. Roman regarded me with an amused expression, clearly intrigued. "At the mall?" he quipped, his tone laced with amusement.
Leaning back in my seat, I crossed my arms, a feeble attempt to quell the nervous energy coursing through me. "I guess it may not be the most ideal location," I admitted, averting my gaze momentarily. "But I thought that meeting in this place would impose some sort of... restrictions."
His laughter filled the air, drawing my attention back to him. "Restrictions? Like what?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.
With a casual shrug, I replied, trying to maintain composure. "I don't know, but I felt it would be fitting considering the recent developments. I wanted to invite you out to clear the air between us," I explained, mustering a smile despite the overwhelming desire to disappear.
"So, how should I approach this meeting?" Roman quipped, his voice laced with amusement as he leaned back, his chin resting on his fist. "As your friend, your matchmaker, or your boss?" His gaze remained fixed on me, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. Maybe he found my nervousness entertaining, or maybe he was teasing me to ease the tension in the air.
When I called him out, I had prepared a five-page explanation in my mind, along with a potential apology for talking shit about him. Though I couldn't recall the exact words I had spoken, the knowledge that I had talked negatively about my boss to my boss left me cringing inwardly.
"A friend," I blurted out, my voice slightly louder than intended. I quickly reigned in my enthusiasm when I noticed his raised eyebrow, forcing a strained chuckle to smooth over my outburst. "That's who I need you to be right now," I continued, my tone attempting to charm him into forgiving my shitty comments. "And as friends, I think forgiveness strengthens the bond between us, don't you think?"
He chuckled. "I guess so."
"Well, I'm glad you agreed, friend!" I leaned forward, playfully punching his arm, hoping to further lighten the mood, though inside, I cringed at my own exaggerated behavior. Holding onto his arm, I gave it a gentle shake, as one would soothe a crib. "Forgiveness is the cornerstone of friendship, and I want you to forget everything I said about you."
One of the worst things about talking behind someone's back is not remembering the exact words you used. It had been months since I had expressed my discontent with the new boss, and while I couldn't recall the specific phrases, I knew they couldn't have been flattering. Unfortunately, I had made the mistake of directing those remarks at the person in question.
He arched an eyebrow, his finger tracing the contours of his face as he wore a knowing smirk. "Like what, Millie?" he pondered aloud.
A wave of embarrassment washed over me, and I found myself wishing I could be anywhere but here. It was clear that he was fully aware of what I was referring to. "Come on, don't act like you don't know," I retorted, my tone laced with frustration.
Roman dropped his finger, his expression momentarily confused. If I didn't know him any better, I might have believed his feigned ignorance. "No, I genuinely don't," he insisted, shaking his head. "What have you said about me? As far as I recall, you've only had nice things to say."
A snort of disbelief escaped me, refusing to allow him to provoke me further. I maintained a smile on my face, gradually widening it. "You know how certain friendships have a connection, right? I feel like I can sense your true feelings, and that sounded an awful lot like sarcasm."
He blinked innocently, feigning ignorance. "It does?"
"What I'm trying to say is that I believe I may have said some things about you—"
"Which version of me?" he interjected. "The friend, the matchmaker, or the boss? It would be helpful if you could specify."
I sighed, feeling a strong desire to disappear. Roman seemed to be enjoying this far more than I had anticipated, undermining the purpose of my apology. "Fine," I relented. "I know I've said some things about you as my boss, but I didn't realize you were the owner of Harley—"
"My father is the owner," he clarified.
"Your last name is plastered all over the damn building, Roman," I retorted, growing increasingly flustered. "But that's beside the point. The point is that I am aware I said some things, but I can't remember the exact words."
"And you think you've done something wrong? Plenty of people vent about their bosses. Some of them deserve it," he remarked dismissively.
"Yes," I mumbled to myself, but he caught my words and let out an exasperated huff. My eyes widened in realization. "I mean, no! I didn't mean that. What I meant to say is that you don't deserve to be spoken about in that way."
"I was a shitty boss."
"Well—"
"You're not denying it."
"You're not a shitty boss. You're alright—"
He snorted. "You can't even say anything nice."
I chuckled, realizing the truth in his words. "That's because I don't really know you, Roman. I mean, the professional side of you as my boss, the CEO of Harley Enterprises. I know Roman, but not well enough in that capacity. I do appreciate the parts of you that I've seen though—"
"The terrible. Lazy. Unserious," he playfully listed off, wearing a mischievous grin. "A lesser version of my brother?"
"I wouldn't go that far."
His eyebrows raised in surprise. "So, you've never wished the switch didn't happen?"
In response, I leaned forward, intending to give his hand on the table a reassuring pat, but my hand ended up holding his. "Blake is impressive. He's quick-witted, intelligent, and hardworking, maybe more than anyone I've encountered. But I can imagine it might be daunting for you to transition into a new environment with unfamiliar people while trying to live up to your brother's reputation."
In that moment, three things happened simultaneously. Roman let out a chuckle, his hand turning to grasp mine, pulling me closer. I held my breath as his face drew near, his gaze following mine with an amused smile playing on his lips.
"You didn't stop to think about that when you were hurling insults at me?" he teased, his voice laced with amusement.
I attempted to retreat, but his firm grip on my wrist kept me in place. It was as if the world around us faded into the background, leaving only the two of us in that space.
"That's not exactly how it went," I countered, my voice faltering slightly as I nibbled on my lower lip.
Roman chuckled again. "Oh, really? Are you sure? I could dig up some evidence if you'd like."
"Alright, no need to be a jerk," I managed to free my hand and leaned back, creating some distance between us. "I already know what I might have said, but let's leave it in the past. It's done. Let's move forward. Besides, I have something that might make you forget all about it."
A spark of excitement ignited on his face. "Really? What is it?"
I reached into my pockets, retrieving two concert tickets and waved them in the air. Roman eagerly snatched them from my hand, his eyes widening.
"You didn't..."
"I did," I confirmed with a smile.
"Holy shit," he exclaimed, examining the tickets in his hands. "VIP tickets to your dad's concert? How did you manage to get these? Were they hard to come by?"
"Please. I just asked my dad for them, and he hooked us up. But the concert is tomorrow. Consider it my way of making amends. So, are we good now?"
Roman's excitement was palpable. "Are you kidding? With these tickets, all past, present, and future mistakes are forgiven. I can't believe you got me tickets to your dad's concert." His grin widened. "You're definitely coming with me," he declared with a confident stance.
I coughed, taken aback by his response. "No, don't waste the extra ticket on me. I got them so you could enjoy the concert with... someone else," I said, trying to sound casual. "You deserve to meet the band and have a great time. Trust me, I'm the last person you'd want to go to a concert with."
He murmured my name, his expression turning serious as he focused his gaze on me. "Millie, thank you for the tickets, but if you won't come with me, then I won't go either."
I chuckled, assuming he was teasing. "Come on, Roman. My dad arranged for you to meet the rest of the band. They don't even give out autographs anymore, but they agreed to make an exception for you. You can't seriously be turning this down just because I won't be there."
His response was unwavering. "Yes, I am."
I laughed. "You're too much."
"If you want to break the heart of one of your father's biggest fans," he continued with a mock pout, "then congratulations, you've succeeded. My heart is shattered like glass on a concrete floor."
I snorted.
"My heart is more broken than a violin string that has snapped in the middle of a performance," he continued, watching me with a lopsided grin. "It's more broken than a puzzle missing its final piece, more broken than a house with a shattered foundation on the verge of collapse."
"Okay!" I gave in, shaking my head. "I'll come with you, you..." I pointed my finger at him, searching for the right word.
He caught my finger. "Hey now, let's remember why we're here and why you shouldn't complete that sentence unless you want me to start recalling all the things you said."
"Seriously, I thought we were past that. I gave you free tickets, and I agreed to come with you. That should be enough to put it behind us."
"I will, on one condition," he murmured.
"You're quite demanding."
"Hey, you owe me. I'm just cashing in."
"Fine, what's your condition?"
"Okay, I know that having a friend as your boss can be uncomfortable, Millie," Roman started sincerely. Leaning forward, his warm gaze met mine. "But I want you to know that it doesn't bother me. Our friendship is separate from our professional roles, and it always has been. It doesn't diminish what we share. And honestly, if I had known you lived just a floor below me, I would have been more serious about spending more time in the office."
"Oh, god."
Roman's eyes softened as a small chuckle escaped his lips, his hand moving to his knee as he leaned in slightly. "I'm serious. It means a lot to me. My position shouldn't change how we treat each other. Let's maintain our relationship and act the same way we always have."
I shifted in my chair. "Are you sure about this?"
His smile faded momentarily before he leaned back in his chair. "Yes, I'm sure."
I glanced around the mall, a sense of unease washing over me. "But I don't want others to know how close we are."
His voice was gentle, his expression curious. "Why are you so afraid?"
"I'm not afraid. I'm just not comfortable with people I'm not friends with knowing that," I confessed.
"What about Gavin? He doesn't seem to like you."
"He doesn't like anyone."
Roman's expression turned thoughtful. "Should I step in?"
"No, please don't," I pleaded. "I don't want him to find out about our relationship. He already seems hostile because you showed me some attention the other day."
"He called you the wrong name."
"He always does that," I replied, shrugging.
"I was tempted to punch him."
I gave him a small smile, appreciating his self-control. "Thank you for not doing that."
"I can't guarantee I'll hold back next time."
"Violence isn't always the solution, Roman," I said gently. "I've grown accustomed to Gavin's unpleasant behavior. I need you to do the same. He's not well-liked among the research team."
"What if I fire him?"
I shook my head. "No, there's still time for him to change."
"Fine, I'll restrain myself from intervening," Roman said firmly. "But if he crosses a line I can't tolerate, my promise goes out the window."
I nodded, grinning. "Got it, loud and clear."
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With our tickets in hand, a tingling sense of anticipation coursed through our veins, elevating our experience to new heights. Roman and I showed our passes at the entrance before I guided him through the throngs of people, our hands brushing against each other and igniting sparks that resonated within me. His hand found its way to the small of my back with a gentle touch. His touch conveyed a subtle sense of protectiveness, as if he wanted to shield me from the chaotic world around us. I could feel Roman's excitement as we walked into the concert hall. He'd been a fan of my dad's band for years, and he was finally getting to see them live.
We were led through a secret passageway, away from the crowd, into a secluded area adorned with plush seating and a private bar. The ambient lighting created an intimate atmosphere, casting a soft glow upon the surroundings. The air carried whispers of anticipation, as if the very walls acknowledged our presence and held their breath in reverence.
Our seats, placed in the front row, offered a view of the stage. As the concert began, the staff ensured our every need was met. Attendants discreetly appeared, offering a selection of delectable treats and refreshing beverages.
Throughout the concert, Roman sang every song, which honestly shocked me so much because I didn't take it seriously when he said he was a fan. I thought he may have exaggerated a little bit, but to see him enjoying it while saying every word was a sight that brought a smile to my face.
Three songs in, we couldn't help but steal glances, smiling as he sang along to the band. I would glance at him, catching him off guard. Our gazes remained locked in a silent pact of denial, each afraid to admit the truth that hung heavy in the air. The air between us crackled with unspoken words, a delicate dance of longing and hesitation. When my favourite song came up, I couldn't keep quiet. I sang along with Roman. During the guitar solos, our fingers entwined, our hands finding solace in the warmth of each other's touch. With every fleeting squeeze or tender caress, it deepened the connection that pulsed beneath the surface.
The stolen moments between songs, our eyes met, and a mischievous sparkle danced in Roman's gaze. His playful gaze told me that he understood the unspoken words we shared, as if we were the only two people in the room, cocooned in a world that existed solely for us. Our bodies swayed in synchrony, our movements mirroring the rhythm that flowed through our veins. Roman's hand found mine, his thumb tracing soft circles on my palm. In that touch, I felt a sense of belonging, as if our hearts were orchestrating a symphony of their own, playing a melody that belonged solely to us. Yet, the weight of our unspoken agreement hung heavy upon us, suffocating the very feelings that threatened to consume our hearts. We danced on the possibility of something more, our hearts teetering between the safety of friendship and the intoxicating allure of want and need. The echoes of the final notes faded into the night, and the tension between us still lingered, floating in the air.
I gently took his hand and led him backstage to meet the band. We stepped into the backstage with our passes around our necks. No one stopped us. A few people that I knew were working on the set waved at me. Some I haven't seen in a while, and some I saw a few months ago. My grip on Roman's hand tightened as we navigated the corridors, and the band members came into view, chatting and tuning their instruments. My heart swelled with pride and excitement as I spotted my dad among them.
"Dad!" I called out, releasing Roman's hand before he could notice.
He turned around, a wide grin lighting up his face as he waved at me. Roman seemed lost in awe, probably overwhelmed by the presence of the band members before him. I hugged my dad first, savoring the familiar warmth of his hug, and then greeted each of the band members, Tarik, Cage, Damien, and Luka.
"It's been a while since you've been here. How have you been, Millie?" Cage asked.
"I'm doing great, Uncle Cage. The show was amazing, by the way. I can't believe you guys can still rock it."
Luka chuckled, twirling the hat on his head with his fingers. "We may be getting older, but our skills remain intact."
Tarik's gaze shifted to Roman. "Millie, who is your friend?"
I turned to Roman, noticing his starstruck expression. I couldn't help but chuckle. "This is Roman," I introduced. "And Roman, this is my dad and the incredible musicians he performs with."
Recognition flickered in my father's eyes, and a warm smile graced his lips. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Roman," he said, extending his hand in a welcoming gesture. "Millie mentioned she was bringing a friend, but she didn't specify who." He shot me a playful glance, and I couldn't help but hide my grin.
Roman firmly shook my father's hand, as well as the hands of the other band members, his eyes filled with awe and admiration. "It's truly an honor to meet all of you," he responded, his voice tinged with a touch of nervousness. "I can't believe I'm shaking hands with Mercury. I'm a huge fan. My mum won't believe it when she finds out I met you."
The band members chuckled, familiar with such reactions, but there was a different energy this time, especially for me. I couldn't contain my smile, and my dad noticed it too.
He smiled warmly at Roman. "Well, why don't these guys show you the best parts of being backstage?"
"Really?" he exclaimed, his disbelief evident.
My hand instinctively found its way to his back, gently urging him forward. "Go," I encouraged. "Have a great time." I waved as Roman followed my dad's bandmates, disappearing into the backstage area.
Dad stepped up beside me, observing my gaze fixed on Roman's retreating figure. He nudged my shoulder with a knowing grin. "It's him, isn't it?"
I groaned playfully. "Dad..."
"I can see the way you look at him, honey."
I rolled my eyes, unable to hide my smile. "We're just friends."
"Everybody starts off as friends," he said, linking his arm with mine and looking directly into my eyes. "I see the way you glow when you look at him, Millie. Don't be afraid to take a chance."
Laughter echoed in the backstage space, a tangible connection forming between Roman and his bandmates. I turned my gaze towards them, sensing his energy even though I couldn't see him.
"It's not as simple as that," I replied, taking a deep breath.
"Don't we have the right to make it simple?" my dad asked, his tone gentle yet firm.
"Dad," I began, searching for the right words. "Roman wants us to remain friends. That's all we can be," I whispered.
He chuckled, his eyes filled with understanding. "When your mother and I first met, we didn't like each other. We were rivals, always trying to one-up each other. But instead of competing, I chose to be her friend. It took time, patience, and genuine care, but eventually, our friendship blossomed into something more. Who's to say the same couldn't happen for you and Roman? You care about him, don't you?"
Something stirred within me, and I remained silent, caught between conflicting emotions. Dad didn't press me further, understanding the complexity of the situation. Instead, he wrapped his arm around my neck and planted a gentle kiss on my temple. It was his way of silently supporting me.
Don't tell mama, I thought, not ready to have that conversation just yet.
I knew he wouldn't. He understood the importance of keeping certain things private.
As we settled into the car, I fastened my seatbelt and stole a glance at Roman. His eyes shimmered with contagious joy, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Unable to contain my curiosity, I couldn't help but ask, "Did you have a good time?"
A wide grin stretched across his face, radiating warmth and excitement. He turned the key in the ignition, and the engine hummed to life. "Hell yeah, I did," he replied, his voice overflowing with enthusiasm. His response filled the small space with an electric energy.
In that car, surrounded by the quiet hum of the engine, Roman's infectious grin and our shared excitement became the soundtrack of our journey. We were no longer just friends; there was an undeniable undercurrent of something more, a magnetic pull that drew us closer, propelling us forward on a path that defied the limitations we had imposed upon ourselves.
"You were really starstruck."
A wide grin stretched across his face, his eyes shimmering with delight. "I didn't think they would be so down-to-earth. They gave me their autographs and took pictures for my mum. She's going to be over the moon." His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his excitement palpable. "Thank you for inviting me, Millie," he said, his voice filled with heartfelt appreciation. "It means everything to me."
Roman's eyes reflected genuine admiration as he stole a glance at me. "You must be incredibly proud," he remarked, his voice tinged with sincerity. "To have him as your dad."
The warmth of his words enveloped me, and I nodded, a swell of pride and love welling up inside me. "I am proud."
"I think he genuinely liked me," he mused.
"Who wouldn't?" I retorted instinctively.
His eyes met mine, his grin widening. "Yeah," he agreed, and in that moment, we shared an unspoken understanding that went beyond words.
As I stepped into my apartment, a lingering happiness and a delightful tingle still danced within me. The weight of the night's experiences hung in the air, infusing every corner of my home.
Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it, savoring the remnants of the evening. The familiar surroundings took on a newfound glow, their familiarity heightened by the moments I had shared with Roman.
My footsteps echoed softly as I made my way through the living room, each step resonating with a sense of contentment. The melodies of the concert played in my mind like a personal soundtrack, their notes harmonizing with the beating of my heart. A smile graced my lips as I relived the conversations, the laughter, and the stolen glances that had passed between Roman and me throughout the night. It was as if the world had shifted, revealing a realm where friendship mingled with unspoken desires, and where possibilities shimmered on the horizon.
I settled onto the couch. Closing my eyes, I replayed the moments in my mind. A soft chime of an email notification pulled me from my daydream. I reached for my phone and unlocked the screen.
My eyes widened in surprise as I read the subject line: "Confirmation of Membership."
My fingers trembled slightly as I tapped on the email, opening the message. The words before me confirmed my initial shock - I had apparently been granted a membership to an exclusive matchmaking company. Questions tumbled through my mind, each one more perplexing than the last. How? Why? Who could have done this?
The email detailed the benefits of the membership, promising tailored matchmaking services and the opportunity to connect with like-minded individuals seeking meaningful relationships. It seemed too surreal.
"What the hell?" I whispered.