Votes and comments would be appreciated!
Also, some people have asked who Jackson is. If you look back, he was another waiter at L'amore and has the crush on Kirsten.
~~Infatuated
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"How are you, Kirsten?" Jackson asks again, prompting me to speak.
I plastered on a smile even though he couldn't see it and cheerfully replied. "I'm doing pretty well. But, um, Jackson? How did you get my number?"
Jackson laughed sheepishly the bustle of L'amore's kitchen audible in the background, "I managed to bribe Pierre to give it to me once I told him my very good reason."
"Which is....." I trailed off, awkwardly twisting the hem of my shirt and placing my phone on a random stool, turning on speaker phone so that I could hear him better.
Another nervous laugh came over the phone. "Well I was hoping that we could plan our friendly dinner date? Some time this week? You kind of left me hanging here so I wasn't sure if I could make plans or something... I know that you're pretty busy wih studying and whatnot and the fact that you currently live sixty miles away kind of interfers but how about Friday? I'll pick you up?"
Oh shit, how could I forget? Our dinner date. The date I promised him we could have only as friends, and here he was, talking as if we were actually a couple. My patience with him as I noted his oblivion was slowly starting to wear down.
I mentally bang my head against the brick wall. "Um, Friday sounds great. But since it is a long drive, why don't I just meet you at La Crepe at seven? Does that sound okay?"
The relief in his voice was evident as he muttered, "Awesome. So, um, I will see you Friday. I can't wait!"
"Well someone sounds desperate." Garett muttered from behind me as I shut my phone close, and again, for the second time in a day, I jumped up and glared at his casual form leaning against the wall.
"Cripes," I hissed holding my hand to my chest, "you have got to stop sneaking up on me. And where did you come from?"
"Cripes?" He raised an eyebrow. "Nice word choice you Brit. I see Toben's rubbed off on you. I came from my mother's uterus years ago. Where'd you come from? Actaully, I just came from the restroom. My word of advice? Don't put your calls on speaker phone because some stray ears may hear every word."
He didn't give me a chance to reply, just shot me a casual smile and muttered, "Guys that are that desperate aren't worth having around."
"You would know," I retorted, crossing my arms.
His smirk widened. "God, it is funny arguing with you, Ms. Spitfire. All I'm trying to do is help you with your love life. Do I look even remotely gay?"
The issue was he didn't.
"Here give me your phone, I'll fix the speaker phone issue" I reluctantly handed it to him, making sure I didn't touch his skin because I wasn't in the mood to feel the sparks fly between us.
He pressed a few button, scrolled through something, before grinning and pressing another buttob. "You may be fiesty, Kirsten, but you sure are gullible."
The second he said that Jackson's voice rang through the speaker. "Hello, Kirsten?"
"Hi, Jackson right? I'm sorry but Kirsten can't come to the phone. She just found out that she'll be busy on Friday and can't go with you on your date. I'm afraid I will have to cance-"
"Garrett!" I screamed, lunging at him. He easily blocked me before continued talking. "And if you seriously can't take a hint, here's a simple conspicuous one. She doesn't want to date you. Have a nice night."
He clicked the phone shut and grinned at me as I seethed and reached for my cell.
"Garret I don't know your middle name Bianchi, what kind of jerkish move is that you idiot?! How did you know I didn't want to go out with him? Huh? You imcebile!"
"It's Robert."
"Excuse me?"
"My middle name is Robert. What?" He asked, obviously enjoying the infuriated look on my face. "You indirectly asked me what my middle name is and I told you. Don't get mad or anything."
I was at a loss for words. "You, you, you, scoundrel, you jerk!"
"Hey! Don't shoot the messanger. I told him that you aren't interested in him because you aren't. I know girl, okay? Shouldn't you give me a hug and thank me for getting you out of an incredibly awkward night with a wimp who won't properly ask you out?"
"Just give me back my phone!"
He pocketed the device patting his back pocket where it was safe and snug next to.... oh god. There goes my plans of retrieving it.
"Do you think I'll give it back right now? You'll just call him and apologize and ask him out like all girls do. Nope, it's staying with me."
I glared at his retreating back but didn't say anything as I walked back into the dining room, because I knew that he was right. That is what my good soul would of done
"Everything alright, dear?" Yivanni asked as I took my seat.
"Everything is just fine, thank you. Just a phone call from a friend inquiring how I am. Oh my, this chicken pot pie looks delectable." I mumbled with a fake and strained smile on my face.
Garrett smirked from his seat as Yivanni muttered mildy, "It's lemon meriguie, but I'll tell the chef anyhow."
I glared at him, before laughing. Nervously. "My bad. I don't feel that great right now and it must be affecting my eye sight and taste ability. I think I will retire for the night if that's okay with you all."
"Go ahead," Yivanni said, shooting me a small smile. "I hope you feel better tomorrow."
Once I managed to escape the dining room, I sped walked to my room, sighing in relief when I finally opened up and door and flopped onto my bed. My bag that rested on a chair come into my vision and I eyed it wearily before gingerly taking out Amelia's People Magazine.
The cover was slick and glossy under my fingertips, displaying a close up image of Jennifer Lopez and her two children. The sidebar showed other celebrities, none giving any juicy gossip about Garrett and the oh so famous 'Mira'.
Wasting no time, I quickly flipped through the table of contents and noticed a specific one labeled, 'Bianci Heir's Love Conquests... Or Not?'. Snorting at the overdramatized title, I opened up the magazine to page 56 and found myself staring at a smirking, confident, Garrett.
Sucking in a breath, my gaze traveled down the picture, admiring the tight black dress shirt and low slung marble washed jeans. His brown hair was tousled back, looking effortless even though the stylists had taken probably hours to manage it, and the lazy grin on his face displayed his arrogance and conceitedness.
At least in my opinion.
So why did my heart do a little flip when I saw his picture?
I shook my head, now irritated, and proceeded to read the article.
'The Heir to the Bianchi Culinary Institute, worth billions of dollars, Garrett Bianchi, is an attractive man of 23 and is already one of the most sought after males in the States. Rumored to be a heartbreaker, Garrett has always appeared mysterious and quiet when talking to reporters about his love life.
However, in the recent time, a new name has popped out into the media world and seems to be directly related to the prodigy chef. Mira Withers, a 22 year old model who has appeared briefly in several sitcoms such as How I Met Your Mother and high fashion ads, seems to have caught the attention of the devilishly handsome man. As we first reported, the two seemed to be a couple during the early months of the year. Spotted on May 1, 2011, the two were cozying it up at a small ice cream parlour in Colorado Springs, a two hour drive from the Bianchi Mansion and only several minutes from Mira's secluded estate in Black Forest. This event spurred the question, 'Who's falling for who?'
This love story gets even stranger. On May 21, half a year since they were first seen together, an image of a crying Mira and a stoic faced Garrett spread across the internet like crazy. But then recently, they were spotted talking in a parking lot, Winters looking defiant and Bianchi bored. After that moment, the two were spotted seperately, but never together.
So that leaves many unanswered questions that thousands of teenage girls and women across America want answered about the newest and hottest bachelor.'
The article ended with several images of Garrett and a fuzzy image of two figures sitting at an ice cream booth. There was no image of Mira Withers.
I sighed, closing the magazine. What people saw in these celebrity articles were completely beyond me. Staring down at an ad for Justin Bieber's new perfume, I gave a frustrated cry and threw the magazine across the room. Due to the length of the bedroom, the pile of papers only managed to sail over my bed before thumping on my floor pathetically, the pages splaying open to display Garrett nice figure.
In my nineteen years of live, I had never felt the way I was feeling now. Sure, there had been moments where I was infatuated with one boy, while having a crush on another, but the way I felt right now just didn't seem right.
The way I responded to his touch, especially when he was bandaging my finger, was enough to know that I had a bigger than big crush on the 'hottest bachelor in America'. It was completely absurd too. Garrett was one of the most rudest, arrogant, bipolar, and shut off from reality person I have ever met and yet I still managed to find something good about him. But was it because of his attractiveness or was it something different? When I realized that I didn't know the answer, just that I was nursing a small crush on a guy I had met a little over a month ago, my stomack filled with dread. How could this happen? My heart had been broken once and was now just mending itself.
Jake Varess was the one boy I had ever felt any romantic notion about, past all the crushes and giggling. With spiked blond hair and a killer smile like Garrett, he had been the one guy I could see a small future with. We had dated for two years in high school, before the Senior class erupted in scandal, and I found myself glaring at the handsome 6 foot 3 football player as he danced with... Mira Withers.
Suddenly I jolted up, my movements frantic as I grasped the magazine. There, right there.
Mira Withers, currently twenty two years old.
The Mira Withers I had known had been two years older than me, already a sophmore in college when Jake had asked her to Homecoming and she had accepted, knowing fully that the two of us were dating. When they slow danced, him trailing kisses up her neck and her looking at him with adoration in her eyes and at me with a knowing smirk, my heart had torn apart with a rip, and a wall began forming around my wounded organ.
Jumping up, I hurried to my laptop. Plugging in the charger, I hurridly typed in her name on the Google Search bar with shaking fingers. Images popped up over my computer screen. Images of her posing in a revealing sports bra, her in How I Met Your Mother, her kissing another model while dripped in paint, her staring straight at the camera, a crooked grin on her face.
She looked barely any different from two years ago, with wavy blonde hair and baby blue eyes and a figure that looked as if she lived at the gym. The only difference was that her nose was longer and straight, and her breasts had grown. A lot.
Scrolling down, I saw no images of her with Garrett so I retyped in her name along with Garrett's. And there it was. Only one picture had any relevance to the two of them, but it was enough evidence for me.
Staring at the two of them sharing a ridiculously small ice cream cone so it was guaranteed that they were sharing salivia, a feeling of hatred and sadness washed over me.
The guy I was actually starting to like was taken by the girl who had once ruined my life.
A knock on my door startled me, pulling me out of my self misery. Opening the door, I came face to face with my cellphone and Garrett.
I gulped. Right now was not the right time for him to be visiting. Hoping that he wouldn't see my computer screen of him with a woman or the open magazine displaying his figure, two totally stalkerish moves on my part, I closed my door behind me.
"What do you want?" I snapped.
He raised an eyebrow at me, "Just came to return your phone. It kept on buzzing and was really starting to irritate me. Some chick named Elle kept on texting and saying something about a Nick and hot guys named Garrett Bianchi. Sound familiar?"
My face flamed as I snatched the phone out of his hand.
"What, not even a thank you?"
"Thank you."
"And by the way, you will find that Jack'ass'on's number is no longer in your contacts. Sweet dreams."
As I slammed the door in his face, I also slammed it on a new crush, one that I seemed to be falling head over heels for.
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I bet you weren't expecting that, eh?
Comments and votes appreciated!