Max was seething as he looked out the window of his car—his jaw clenched, fingers curled around the steering wheel.
What the hell was Neil doing there talking to Sofia? And what the hell were they conversing so intensely about?
With narrowed eyes, he played close attention to their expressions.
He watched as Neil seemed to plead about something to Sofia, and he could see her denying it, and then Neil got all desperate. They talked back and forth for a little while, and then she nodded as though she was giving her consent.
But to what?
And then Neil pumped a fist in the air!
Max's eyes narrowed.
They talked some more, and then she smiled brilliantly before Neil was turning to leave towards his car parked about ten feet away.
Max felt his stomach drop.
What the f*ck just happened?
Feeling his mood souring, Max quickly pulled out of there. He drove off at a raging speed that matched the reckless state of his mind.
He himself didn't know for what purpose exactly he chose to drive down that particular road that went past Sofia's scrap of a diner—despite it being the longest route to the law firm.
It was instinctive, actually. Max admitted to himself.
Seeing Neil and Sofia conversing there had been a shock to him, and before he knew, he had kicked the break and stopped at the sight of his brother talking to her. What a mistake that had been!
Now he found it challenging to sit still from curiosity.
And because he failed to figure out a way to sate his questions, he felt an uncomfortable kind of anger beginning to blaze inside.
--
Cooking.
That was the one thing that Sofia had concentrated almost obsessively and mastered upon in those lonely, depressing years after Max left.
She had missed those endless times he had brought smiles to her face, helped her with studies and assignments, and bickered over all the scientific stuff he was so passionate about. She had ruined it all in order to hide her very personal, escalating hell—that hell, however, all of a sudden dissipated by the fire that took away her parents. The sight of their dead bodies with white clothes covering their faces was still vivid in her memories. One hell ended to start another. Soon, she found herself drowning in depression. There was just way too much guilt and grief to bear.
There was no Max to lean onto. He was long gone.
And she'd pushed him away herself—it was an ever-scalding knowledge in her mind.
Grampa took her in instantly. But the void inside her had grown to become pitless already.
Her interest and efficiency in cooking had come in handy then. Shouldering the complete responsibility of the kitchen of her new home had helped her win over the darkness. The way—that had been a means for her to fight the sudden emptiness of her life had soon turned into a career. And Sofia had swum out of the depths of the darkness to see, really see, the light found happiness in all the little things in life, and in the smiles that she could put onto others' faces around her.
Because when life seems so dark and empty sometimes, it's logical that we look at the rays of light that are actually not ours but are somehow enough to hold onto as they encourage us to keep going without being completely left out into nothingness.
"Sofia!"
Her head chef's incredulous tone got her startled out of her thoughts. "I'm asking you for the third time, what do we keep in dessert?" Simmy screamed at Sofia's ear in irritation, and she hissed, rubbing her ears.
"Do you want to make me deaf?"
"Bloody hell!" Simmy raised both her hands towards the heavens in exasperation. "What will I make out of this fool of a boss of mine? First, she doesn't hear a single word I say, and then she accuses out of nowhere that out of all people, I'm loud."
Sofia just had to roll her eyes at that.
Simmy could be so overdramatic at times! Not that she was complaining. It was, in a way, good for the diner's atmosphere, keeping all the tension of workload at bay. Also, the lady was the most loyal person Sofia could have ever found.
"Now, no need to get so hyper over nothing," Sofia said, picking her pen up and snatching the sheet where they were writing down the menu for Neil's party.
"It's definitely nothing, Sofia. Something's bothering you. Just have a look at your face!"
"What happened to my face?" Sofia asked while confusedly fishing out the little pocket mirror from her bag.
"You have freaking dark circles under your eyes."
A little annoyed, Sofia lowered the mirror. "Now, don't start with the dark circles again. We've got far more important things at hand, like catering for a party."
But Simmy wouldn't stop. "Alright— alright. But what about the fever you have? It's been two days. The fever hasn't gone yet. Sofia, I don't understand why wouldn't you go to the doctor?"
The rest of the employees surrounding the desk nodded in total agreement with Simmy.
They were not just workers here. As years passed, all of them had grown a firm bond with Sofia.
Sofia huffed now, feeling touched by their concern, but alongside, she felt a little irritated too. "Gosh, Simmy! It's just a little fever. I'm taking medicine at home—"
"Prescribed by whom?" Cutting off, Simmy retorted.
Sofia glared at the indignant woman hard.
Thankfully, Simmy decided to let the topic be for the time being because Sofia could raise a dead simply by the way she glared—according to Mary's staff. And so, they again dove into the menu of Neil's party.
"Now," Sofia's voice rumbled with authority, "What're your suggestions about dessert? It's going to be a short party among colleagues. We'll go for the simple dishes but will make them extraordinary with our unique touch-ups everywhere."
Sofia wanted to give Neil's party nothing but the best she could manage.
Simmy broke out into a grin along with everyone else, hums of approval resounded, and excitement shone in everyone's eyes. Indeed, all of them in the room had this one thing in common - the love of cooking.
Now, they would need just to buy enough tableware to save the day. Then they would need to prepare beforehand for the party—peeling potatoes, chopping onions, marinating chicken, and so on. All that would take half a day.
Also, she couldn't afford to keep Mary's closed for the evening of the party tomorrow. So, she needed to wisely pick out some of the staff to take with her while leaving others to run the diner in her absence.
Sofia exhaled a long breath, readying herself mentally.
About an hour and a half later, she flew out of Mary's to go to the supermarket to buy the tableware she so badly needed. It was just around the next block, so she figured she would just walk. Also, her car tank was half empty.
Getting late on the way was not in her plan for the day because she had just so much to do for the day. But she had to halt dead on her track seeing a geeky-looking boy, by the looks was in his teenage years, peeing stealthily inside a letterbox in front of a rickety old townhouse.
Oh, God of holy hygiene!
And he was even smiling like a maniac.
Sofia didn't waste a moment and video recorded the gross scene on her phone while making a call to the police, then she bee-lined towards the unaware boy who was zipping up now. She was so going to see to this issue personally first—verbally blast his ears and hold him down until the police arrived.
"You pissing scum!" she bit out, grabbing a fistful of his shirt collar.
The boy was stunned for a couple of seconds, which Sofia fully used by spitting out some more colorful cuss words. But then, unexpectedly, he shifted his thin body and slithered one hand inside his jacket, bringing out a gun to Sofia's utter horror.
"Give me all you've got, lady, or die."
So the pissing scum was a hijacker too!
What the hell!
Sofia blinked as the boy repeated his words while putting a bit more force in his meager voice—which sounded quite comical, to be honest, coming from such a skinny boy who was, she suspected, also new in the hijacking business.
"Are you deaf? Do as I say!"
Sofia gritted her teeth as the boy clicked back the safety lock.
"No," she said, breathing in and out and looking around. The only money she had with her was the advance Neil gave her to buy the tableware, and she couldn't afford to lose it.
Also, Sofia suspected the gun to be a fake one. She recalled buying a similar one from Sam two years ago.
The boy stood still in indecision for a moment before he suddenly spun around on his heels and began to run.
With her theory proven right, Sofia was hot on his heels. She caught him in a busier place, perhaps forty feet ahead on a pavement, where she ultimately unleashed one hell upon the wannabe hijacker.
--
Max stormed down the corridor of Wilders in a mood so sour that people slid out of his way, wary at the mere sight of him. As he reached his father's office, he took a minute to stand outside the door and calm down, drawing in a few lungfuls of breaths.
His eyes strayed towards the other end of the corridor where Neil's office was. Confusion, curiosity, and topping those emotions of anger turned his mind foggy.
The sight of Sofia and Neil conversing, a myriad of expressions playing on their faces—Neil's over-excitement, Sofia's hesitance, and that smile of hers—it all incessantly pricked tiny needles inside his overworking brain.
Something was going on, something that Max was sure he didn't have an idea about. And his dear cousin was hiding it from him.
Because just minutes ago, at the gates of Wilders, Max had called Neil pretending to know about some of dad's case files, and Neil did not even mention his meeting with Sofia this morning. He even cut the call in haste as if he was trying to ignore Max.
It took more than a few deep breaths for Max to have control over his anger finally.
When he finally knocked on the wooden door of his dad's office, the familiar deep baritone sounded from the other side.
"Come in."
Straightening his coat and putting a slight smile on his earlier scowling face, Max walked in. Whatever it was, the last thing Max wanted was to worry his father. And when he looked at the frowning face of his father, he couldn't help but rethink his decision to return to London. Wilders' London headquarter could go on with the very efficient employees and lawyers working over there.
But there was just so much his dad could bear on his shoulders anymore here, especially when he had a son to share all the responsibilities of the province he created and the inevitable stress attached to them.
In Max's mind, in a small part of his mind, another reason also rang out. That was the recent development between Neil and Sofia and everything fishy that hung in between.
He'd thought that Neil, for being his cousin, would be on his side. But clearly, it was not the case, even after he had told Neil all about how Sofia had humiliated and hurt him, how because of her, he'd been once bullied in high school. All those times chasing after her, demanding at least an answer but being treated only coldly, rudely in return—Max had shared it all with Neil that day.
Still, Neil had chosen her. And he had chosen her over Max.
Unacceptable.
It was like Sofia had managed to perfectly brainwash that cousin of his who seemed to be quite content in being brainwashed by that witch of a woman. And it irked Max to no end.
Later that evening, Max was driving his way through the traffic. His mind was so exhausted that he feared he would fall asleep on the steering any second and get into an accident in the process. So he sighed in relief when he could stop the car at a signal.
Pinching at the area between his tired eyes, Max shook himself awake. Sleep could wait for another hour till he got home. And he looked forward to going home, considering he hadn't gotten a proper night of sleep since the reunion party.
Things had been balanced out way too well between Sofia and him that it literally took his sleep away. Max mockingly thought with a scoff.
And then he saw her.
She was right there, on the pavement—beating up a nerdy-looking boy?
And honestly speaking, the boy looked utterly innocent, even scared shitless.
Max watched with a gaping mouth as she kneed into the boy's crotch with a force that showed no mercy. And as the boy doubled over in pain, she brought down her fists onto his back several times.
But why?
That boy getting whooped by that impossible woman seemed to be inoffensive. With glasses and all, that boy looked quite a lot like Max's own teenage self.
But was it possible that the boy had done something to offend Sofia?
But then, had Max done anything to offend her back in high school for her to desert him?
Girls like Sofia Hayden possessed ugly faces underneath their sparkling masks, and Max had learned it the hard way. He would be a fool now to believe otherwise.
Max was just about to get his car along the side of the road to find a place to park for a minute and save Sofia's victim. But before that, and thankfully, the boy slid out of her hold and ran off waddling—his most sensitive spot was damaged, after all.
As the red signal turned green, Max drove away at a furious speed. The sleep over his eyelids—long gone yet again.
~
A/N:
So, how was it? Did you enjoy reading it? Lemme know through your comments! :)
Sofia and the geeky boy-letterbox pissing-wannabe hijacker is a light bulb idea of mine. It's something new and wasn't in the first draft of this story. Hope you enjoyed it... lol...
But Max misunderstood her yet again. I understand him, though. I truly do. It's like when we make up our mind about someone (who's also hurt us terribly), we tend not to want to believe otherwise about them later on. We've all been in that place. Come on, accept it. :'(
By the way, I love that Neil is a sweetheart here. We'll see more of his charms and wonders in this story. I can't wait to conjure up more and more new ideas to use in the following chapters.
Take care till then, all of you munchkins!
Lots of love,
Lara.