BUT THE SURPRISEMENT did not end up that point. When the elevator dang as it came back right away on the loft floor of the complex, another unexpected and unwelcome visitor peeled himself off the elevator. Chandler David Limestone, with plasters and traces of bruises on his face, completely appeared and crowded the remaining ample area of the hallway. Lizabeth stood in between three men, excluded the landlord, Mr Wetdield. The young lady tried to act ignorantly as her purpose of ducking out of her apartment was to go to the grocery store.
"Sebastian, why are you here?" Chandler marveled out loud, determinedly tracing his attentiveness between Sebastian, Ralph and Lizabeth. Then dropping his gaze to the luggages pooled beside Sebastian, seemingly oblivious. "And why are you bringing your luggages here?"
"Isn't it obvious, Chandy?" Sebastian beckoned to the luggages beside him. "I'm here because I just moved into this unit here." He pointed to the door of the apartment that he paid for. "And I should be the one to ask you the same inquiry. Why are you here? And why–" he halted when he discerned the bruises and plasters around cns Chandler's face. "What the hell!" Then he pivoted fast and pried at Ralph. "You have bruises and cuts too." He pondered verbally.
The shrugged at Lizabeth and gestured, mentally informing her to take care of the scene as he needed to peel himself off. Sebastian Grand already paid him his three months sophisticated rental fee. Sensitively, Mr Wetdield pressumed that his presence became loiter and noisance to the scene. And that whatever the business and issue regarding the three men and Lizabeth, he completely deduced that he has nothing to do with it. As as long as none of the characters would severely and tremendously cause damage to his property, then his off.
Mentally, the young lady wanted to cease the landlord, thinking about what happened last night, Lizabeth insanely assumed in her wake that it was tentatively occuring again. Fortunately, when she began realizing that Sebastian was here, Lizabeth cleverly imagined that she could use the guy as a buffer between Ralph and Chandler. However, and in an unfortunate reality, Sebastian was Chandler's friend, and if the scene last night replayed and elaborated actually, that was when her mind began whirling and bugging her.
"What is going on here, Miss Goodwell?" Sebastian asked dubiously, frowning and prying at Lizabeth. "I'm sorry." He apologized quickly, shaking his head slightly. "I mean Miss Redwood. What is going on here? Why do they have bruises and cuts on their faces?"
"You really have to ask me that. As if I know everything."
"Not really, Miss Redwood." Sebastian objected defensively, jerking himself inches away from Lizabeth. "But as far as I can recall, these two–" he pointed to Chandler then Ralph. "Almost had a fight against each other last night at Donatello's. And I was there. Remember?" He sniggered teasingly. "So I presume you know what happened."
Sighing and shrugging, Lizabeth looked at Sebastian wearily. Exhaustion and annoyance danced across her beautiful frame. "I'd really like to explain to you but unfortunately I am in a hurry. But I can explain everything to you later. Since we're neighbors now." She sighed indolently as she rolled her eyes. "I need to go to the grocery store."
"Oh I see." Sebastian hissed squeakedly, fastly grabbing his belongings. "Let me take there inside and I'll drive you there."
"No!" Both Ralph and Chandler hollered simultaneously, sounding threatening Sebastian.
Afraid to witness the same horrifying scene she had witnessed last night, Lizabeth purposely and intentionally ripped herself off the hallway, scooting fastly to the elevator. Chandler extended a hand, attempting to block Lizabeth but the young lady resisted and swatted Chandler's hand. Ralph came in between them but Lizabeth scooted quickly like a flash. Unhesitatingly, she shoved both men away, preventing them from causing the same fear and trauma to her. Sebastian frowned at the scene but eventually changed his expression when he discerned the reason for the bruises.
"Please give me a break." Lizabeth begged loudly. "I have enough of what happened last night." She then twirled and looked at Chandler. "And you Mr Limestone, what are you doing here?" She huffed. "Why are you even here when you know I don't want to see you for now?"
"I know how you don't want to see me, Miss Redwood. But I came here to apologize to you for my behavior last night." Chandler explained logically, answering the injuries Lizabeth poked at him. He feigned an innocent face, forcing himself to look at Ralph. "And to resolve the issues between me and Mr Cortez."
"Resolve the issues?" Sebastian interfered and whined wryly. "You two even made Miss Redwood a referee again for the second time a while ago. And you have the balls to say you came here to apologize and resolve the situation." He sighed exasperatedly as he shook his head. He paced carefully, hauling himself to Lizabeth. "I suggest you two better ask apology to Miss Redwood. You two cause nothing but trauma to her."
"It's not me who started it first." Chandler denied defensively. "It's Mr Cortez who hit me first, not me punching him." He accused, pointing to Ralph. "So Mr Cortez must ask apology first."
"Chandler, it's not about who started it first and who made the first hit." Sebastian exclaimed rationally, correcting and declining Chandler's reason. "It's about how you both caused trouble and uncertainties to Miss Redwood. That is my point." He thudded beside Lizabeth and buffered himself between Chandler and Ralph. "Asking apology to Miss Redwood is equal as resolving the issues subtly."
"That is fine with me." Ralph sounded behind Lizabeth. "If it makes Miss Redwood feel comfortable and esse, then I'll agree with you."
"I agree with Sebastian. Not because I definitely want to make peace with you, Mr Cortez." Chandler moved forward, dragging himself near Lizabeth. "But simply because I want to see Miss Redwood happy and appeased."
Sebastian benignly volunteered to stand between Chandler and Ralph as the two began stating their words of apology. Ralph apologized first to Chandler and admitted his faults, putting all the blames on him. A smug smile encompassed Lizabeth's frame, feeling better to see how Ralph admitted all the faults. Seeing Lizabeth felt elated and complacent upon how Ralph descended himself, insecurity developed through Chandler. So without further ado, Chandler did the same as stated his apology and admitted the blame to himself.
And Lizabeth was surprised because she knew how Chandler was a typical high pride and ego kind of a man.
Eventually, Lizabeth exited and went to the grocery store hurriedly, leaving the three men behind the hallway. Reaching her car idling in the parking lot, Ariella saw her. And they decided to go together since she and Brandon had ran out of grocery supplies and stocks. During the ride to the grocery store, Ariella remembered how Brandon let had see a photo Chandler sent to him earlier. A photo of Chandler's face decorated with bruises and cuts with a caption, Mr Cortez is a tough guy. But Ariella shoved the thought for a while and decided to ask Lizabeth later.
Asking Lizabeth about the comotion would definitely distract Lizabeth from driving.
"I feel so terrified earlier."
Lizabeth gagged from strolling the cart through the alley of the grocery store when she heard Ariella. "And why?" She asked as she turned to her. "What makes you feel terrified?"
Pursing her lips, hand tapping on her chin, Ariella hesitated for a few seconds. As if she was contemplating and determining whether she would tell Lizabeth or not. But then made her decision mentally and confessed. "Well, Brandon received a message from Chandler earlier." She started and Lizabeth heeded. "It was a photo of him–"
"So he let Brandon know what happened last night."
"Not exactly. But what was really happened?" Ariella countered, excitement and curiosity filled her tone. "I mean Chandler uses a caption that says, Mr Cortez is a tough guy. Does it mean they have been in a fight?" She asked.
"What do you think?"
Ariella halted and grimaced, glaring at Lizabeth as if examining her facial expression. "What do I think?" She mimicked. "I think they're fighting because of one reason. But Chandler knows he couldn't allow himself to have that reason."
"Exactly!" Lizabeth squealed teasingly. "But he still force himself to get near to that reason."
"We can't blame him either." Ariella chided frantically, shoving a cold glare to Lizabeth. "Because to Chandler and Ralph, you really are too gorgeous for them to ignore." She quickly snatched a dozen of eggs from the shelf. "Guess you need eggs and throw at them the next time they fight."
A combined giggling sound was heard afterwards. And the two continued picking up items for their daily means.
Meanwhile, back to the apartment complex, Brandon immediately submitted himself on the tenth floor, where Sebastian apartment was nestled. Chandler decided to dawdle in Sebastian's apartment to keep himself from the distraction his parents were causing him. However, knowing his friend Sebastian my moved in to his new apartment, Chandler mentally pondered that the situation was an addition to his chores. Sebastian thought earlier that Lizabeth was the daughter of the owner of Goodwell Pharmaceutical incorporated.
Which was absolutely correct.
"Why do you move here anyway?" Brandon padded to the living room with a bucket of ice cubes in his grasp. He placed the bucket on the coffee table and seated beside Chandler. "Is it because that you mistakenly thought Lisafe Redwood Lizabeth Goodwell. Chandy told me." He glanced at Chandler, sniggering devilishly. "And I can't blame you."
"Can't blame me?" Sebastian scoffed wryly, grimacing at Brandon. "If you think I am here because I plan to steal the young lady from them? Or perhaps join their club. You are absolutely wrong." Sebastian slanted his back against the backrest. "My contract to my old apartment ended and I decided to transfer here since it's cheaper." He continued before he added, looking at Chandler. "And I can also mingle–"
"Don't!" Chandler howled loudly. "Bas please don't." He begged intentionally, sulking at Sebastian. "Mr Cortez is already a tough rival to me already. Now you move here and add yourself to my chores. I beg you please. Don't." He sighed exhaustedly.
"That is a selfish act, Chandy." Brandon interfered, bursting out his opinion fearlessly. "Lisafe is a young, single and free spirited girl. It means she is for someone else who is free and available as her." Brandon gave Chandler an ashen countenance. "I'm only being fair here."
Chandler stared at Brandon for a couple seconds as if contemplating what he said. "Okay." He cooed while nodding. "I understand you."
"What a miracle!" Sebastian howled happily. "Does this mean that the best man will win?"
Retracting an ice cube from the bucket, Chandler threw it on Sebastian intentionally. "You idiot!"
The doorbell rang, signifying that the beer they ordered arrived. And Brandon offered himself to open the door and Chandler gave him a few dollar bills. But when Brandon swung the door open, he instantly bucked and flinched in his surprise. Literally both Chandler and Sebastian grimaced staring at the two people standing on the porch of Sebastian's apartment. Chandler gritted his teeth, clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes, glaring angrily at Mr Henry Limestone and Mrs Adela Limestone.
SATURDAY EVENING WAS always expectable to a place like Donatello's, where individuals who badly needed to unwind and chill. Especially after an entire week that full of works and nothing but works. Despite of how painful the bruises on his face, Ralph never allowed himself to stay home, thinking Lizabeth was there in Donatello's, working as waitress. And the fact that he heard the pathetically loud conversation Chandler and his parents had earlier, the couple planned to dine in at Donatello's later.
Albeit, none of Chandler, Brandon and Sebastian had mentioned that Lizabeth was working as a waitress there, Ralph couldn't bear the outburst of the scene that would certainly take place later. Donatello's was a popular restaurant in Los Angeles California, and many prominent living individuals came there often for particular and specific reasons. The restaurant indeed offered delicious food and delicacy which made their customers loyally patronized them.
And Lizabeth's presence added as a bonus although it contributed much.
"You shouldn't have reported to work, Mr Cortez." Harold was folding his arms around his chest. He was worried about Ralph, reporting to work with his current condition. "That hurts, I know."
"This doesn't matter, Mr Miller." Ralph announced as he started slicing a large pork meat. "My work is very important and I can't afford to have a single absence. I badly need money." He sounded logical while dropping his explanation.
"Perhaps he has another reason why he forces himself to work tonight." The chef cook of the restaurant, Gerald Federline, intertwined, blurting his opinion. "And I'm sure his reason is gorgeous that he cannot allow himself to decipher even just for tonight." He giggled quietly.
"Will you please be quiet there!" Ralph yelped tumultuously, scolding their chef cook, throwing a piece of slice carrot to him. "I work because I want to. I don't come here because of other invalid reasons."
The argument seized up when Lizabeth and Analiza along with other waitresses came inside the kitchen. Ralph's attention only stocked and glued to one person, who was filling out her tray with plates full of food. The corners of Ralph's lips twitched into an adorable smirk, making Analiza and the other waitresses shudder and wobble subtly. If Lizabeth was the reason why Donatello's had now been bombarded with customers, Ralph was also the reason why the other waitresses were so determined to work harder.
"Miss Redwood, you reserve the table seventeen." Harold announced, instructing Lizabeth. He was standing between the door frame, observing his employees. "A family will dine there tonight."
"A family?" Lizabeth questioned. "I don't see on the reservation list that a family made reservation for tonight." She supplied and sounded like whining. "Do they call promptly?"
"Yes." Harold grinned widely, seemingly sneered at Lizabeth. "They just called me. So you better go there and clean the table seventeen." He pointed to the very corner table of the restaurant. "They'll be here any moment from now."
"No problem, Mr Miller!" Lizabeth elaborated a salute sign and at the same time tapping her feet against the floor. "It's my pleasure to serve our customers."
Lizabeth bolted down to the restaurant, rambling directly to the corner, where table seventeen was sat. A few seconds later, she found herself wiping the table after she removed the soiled ledge from the nook. She left the nook and went back right away with a clean ledge in her grasp. Although Harold didn't drop more information about the family but Lizabeth felt that they were prominent and wealthy – for Harold would never promptly ask sny of them to prepare the table formally.
Checking her watch, Lizabeth wearied as it was ten minutes before eight in the evening. Since Harold only wanted her to clean and reserve the table, she hauled herself hurriedly back to the kitchen. Cleaning and reserving the table were the only task and she wasn't informed yet if she would be the assigned waitress to serve the family, who would be dining there later. Slipping into the kitchen, Lizabeth startled when a hand snatched her wrist before dragging her to the corner.
In a second, she pulled when the owner of the hand who grabbed her let go of hers. She stood and tipped her chin high, searching for the face, and she found it was Ralph. "What?"
"You have to prepare yourself if Harold chooses you to be the server at table seventeen." Ralph pointed out the door of the kitchen, pretending that he pointed the table seventeen. "The family you are going to serve is the–"
"Miss Redwood! Mr Cortez!" Harold hollered tumultuously exclaimed. And he vaguely intended to bellow to distract the two. "What are you two doing here?" He wondered verbally. "You should be in your respective areas. The restaurant is fully packed."
"Yes Mr Miller." Ralph said, adjusting himself. "And please excuse me." He peeled himself off the scene.
Turning his objective to Lizabeth, Harold raised a brow disdainfully. "And you." He started. "I have decided to assign you as the exclusive server for table seventeen. So you better prepare yourself." He stalked at the restaurant, prying to see if the customers he anticipated arrived. "They are here now."
Nodding, Lizabeth grinned at Harold beneath her obliviousness. "Yes Mr Miller." She slid to her side. "I'll go there right now."
Adjusting her hair and her uniform, Lizabeth flocked through the restaurant and plodded directly to the specified table. Lizabeth was loaded with confidence and calmness inevitably, making everyone in the restaurant turned their awareness to her. She flew like an angel as she submerged through the crowded restaurant. Only then her confidence, calmness and euphoric state dropped down and dissipated gradually, when three faces nailed to her. And out of three, two of them were begrudgingly glared at her.
While the other one gawked at her, flabbergasted.
Oh my goodness! This is what Mr Cortez tried to warn me about. Snapping herself from her meaningless trance, Lizabeth shook herself inwardly and mustered her confidence. With a renewed and revived energy, she rammed the dreadful thoughts off her head and paced towards the table fearlessly. "Good evening Limestone family!" She smiled lively. "I'll be your official server tonight. May I take your orders now?"
Raising her brow, Mrs Limestone glared at Lizabeth condescendingly. "So you work here as a waitress?" She sneered towards the young lady. "This is absolutely the perfect job for–"
"Mom! Stop it!" Chandler exclaimed anxiously, berating his mother. "We are here to have dinner not to disdainfully turn down anyone."
"Why are you scolding your mother, Chandler?" Mr Limestone interfered, asking his son. He then tipped his head up and glanced at the young lady standing beside their table. "And who is this girl, Adela? Why do you seem to know her?"
"Come on Henry! Aren't you familiar with her face?" Mrs Limestone countered at her husband while beckoning to Lizabeth. "She's the girl Chandler dated for two times. Don't you remember her face in the photo?" She asked.
"I see." Mr Limestone hissed quietly, staring at Lizabeth sharply. He purposely trailed his eyes from head to feet Lizabeth. "You are indeed a beautiful young lady. But unfortunately our son has already been betrothed to a woman deserves to become his wife." He plastered an ashen looks.
"Thank you so much for the information, Mr Limestone. But I already know about it." Lizabeth smiled and snatched the small notebook from her pocket. "Now if you don't mind, may I start jotting all your orders down please?"
"Not yet." Mrs Limestone chided nonchalantly, waving a hand at Lizabeth seemingly scolded her. "We are still waiting for a special person."
"Mom! She's not coming here." Chandler whined out loud at his mother. "I asked her if she could come but she said she's–"
"I'm here everyone!"
A gentle and soft female voice reiterated, emanating from the back of Lizabeth. Carefully, Lizabeth spun on her heels in order to pry at the owner of the voice. A woman in her mid twenties displayed before her blinking eyes. The woman was smiling and waving her hand not to Lizabeth but at the person behind her. Lizabeth traced the attentiveness from the woman to the person she waved at. Lizabeth almost lost her breath when she found out that it was Chandler. A pang of uneasiness and apprehensiveness flickered through her chest.
"Sorry if I am late." The woman continued as she rambled and passed through Lizabeth and sat down beside Chandler. "I hope my future husband doesn't mad at me for being tardy."