note: I promised frequent updates and here I am, delivering on my promise! I loved all the responses I got so far and now I am excited and eager to introduce you to my other main character. The chapters will alternate between these two characters.
Don't hesitate to drop your thoughts in the comments!
Happy reading xo
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If London Wan Liang were to have any kind of superpower it would be predicting the future.
That way she wouldn't have been so embarrassed with how her first date turned out to be a total flop because she'd have time to figure out a way to rectify that disaster. Or she could have avoided giving out her first kiss to Thomas Fischer who not only didn't like her back but liked another boy and had to break the news to her that he'd never see her that way or any other girl for that matter. She could have even evaded going to school that day when she first got her period, which was of course another disaster. She could have not given away her virginity in the back of a storage room right before her A-Level exams. She could have not dropped out of university, because clearly life was kicking her in the arse with how hard making a livelihood was. She could have avoided doing so many things, she could have made multiple right decisions instead of all the wrong ones she had made.
The possibilities were endless.
If London had the superpower of foretelling her own fate she would not have hurriedly locked her car door and turned around without so much as a backward glance. She'd have missed colliding into the hard body. She'd have saved her flowers from getting crushed on impact and falling onto the sidewalk before the cemetery entrance.
Arms were at her elbows to steady her before she could take the fall along with those beautiful fresh flowers. A deep voice going, "Woah, watch out there," was heard but all she could do was stare at the flowers on the ground between the stranger and her, ruined. She stared at the ground between them, momentarily mortified.
"Not to sound rude," she started as she pushed away from the stranger, agitation building within her, "But please watch where you're going. You just ruined a perfectly beautiful bouquet of expensive flowers."
God, Mondays were really not her days.
"I'm sorry," the stranger apologised dropping the arms around her. It was by the sound of a deep voice that she finally registered the stranger to be male. What she had said offended him but in his defence her tone was rather rude. In her defence she wasn't ready for this so early in the morning, especially when she hadn't any tea yet.
"Uh, I am sorry," he tried again and this time she looked up from her once beautiful bouquet of flowers to him. His eyes were a deep shade of something, a colour she could not distinctly make out with this much distance between them since he stepped away but the crease between his eyebrows told her that he was concerned. It was written into his features, which, she had to commend were attractive, though of course she wasn't about to go admitting that to a total stranger.
She was used to seeing handsome men and women alike. She'd gotten to see her fair share of beautiful men at work, often dressed in expensive suits for business meetings or hush rendezvous' with mysterious lovers at the restaurant she worked at. It took her several years to acquire a place there and to think of how many more years until she was able to be head chef or to open up a place of her own was enough to give her a headache.
"I didn't mean to. If I saw you there I wouldn't have bumped into you," he continued, finding that he had to justify what had just happened.
"If you did see me and then purposely bumped into me that'd make you a downright arsehole," she said, the words rushing out of her without a second thought. London had clearly woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.
He chuckled and she could tell that her words had made the air around them to turn awkward. Ignoring whatever uncomfortable atmosphere that was present, she bent down to pick up her flowers. Her mother would not like this at all.
"Here, let me," he offered.
She batted his hands away, her eyes momentarily catching the glint of gold, before she said, "It's all right, I've got it."
Smiling, in an attempt to be polite, he nodded towards her flowers once she had gathered them and got back on her feet, and said, "Sorry for that again. You could have mine."
Her annoyance towards him dwindled when she heard his offer. Her mother liked yellow tulips but since those were ruined London had no intention of putting them on her grave. "That's really sweet of you," she replied, hesitant to be accepting flowers from a stranger. "You sure you don't need them for whoever you're visiting?"
"It's all right," he shrugged, laughing lightly before he extended his hand towards her. She took the flowers from him carefully, her fingers lightly brushing against his fair ones.
"Those flowers," he said, nodding at the yellow tulips that lay in her left hand, "They're pretty. Well, before I ruined them, that is." His smile was contagious. "Who are they for?"
"My mother."
"Oh."
The awkward air around them only deepened and quickly, searching her mind for something to take place of the awkwardness, she said, glancing down at the flowers he'd just given her and then towards his hands which were stuffed into his coat pockets to keep warm, "Who were your flowers for?"
He laughed, but it sounded different. Nervous. "My aunt died a while ago and they had the funeral two weeks ago, just before I landed. I've been in Dubai the last month for business so I couldn't make it. And this is the first time I'm seeing her. I should have seen her sooner but I have quite a lot on my plate now. She and I were never close anyway, but that's no excuse," he admitted. His explanation was more than she needed and his lips still pulled up into a smile though London wondered if it were merely forced for the sake of appearance.
Curiosity was in her nature, one of her traits that her mother had once upon a time scolded her relentlessly for because sometimes it was easier being in the dark than finding out the harsh truth, and London wanted to ask him more, prod a little, but she'd never seen this man before. She didn't know him, she didn't know if he'd want to share anything with a total stranger whose flowers he'd just ruined.
"Sorry for your loss," she said anyway, not knowing how to respond to his words.
He nodded. "Sorry for yours too."
She had always found it strange when people told her they were sorry for her loss. Whatever could they be apologising for? She simply didn't get it, but it was what people said when they heard about the passing of a life, a generic response to the news of death, and even though she didn't understand it, it was something she'd been trained to say too.
"Thanks," she replied, giving him one more smile before deciding that it was finally time to break free from this odd conversation and see her mother. She made to walk past him and she was a few steps away when she heard him speak again.
"Hey, uh," he started, and smiled timidly when she turned to face him. She found it oddly cute. "I didn't catch your name."
She tried not to smile. She truly did, but with the way he was looking at her, a hopeful glint in his eyes matching his rather nervous but cute smile, she couldn't find it in herself to suppress her smile.
"Hmm, I don't know," she replied, seemingly deep in thought, "Mum said to never trust strangers."
His grin widened, his teeth peeking out of that smile that she had somehow become transfixed upon in the last minute. "Come on," he begged, "You got to give me something to go on here."
She shrugged, her lips still smiling. Were they flirting? She wasn't sure but she liked it nonetheless.
"I'm Andrew Cai," he offered, raising his eyebrows in expectation.
Laughing, she gave in and said "London."
"London. Just London?"
"Just London," she beamed, "I have to keep my air of mystery, don't I?"
He laughed and there was no way she could miss the way his eyes glinted with mirth, especially not when the sun peeked out from behind the clouds and shone down, highlighting his handsome features.
"Well, just London," he started, his lips twitching in an amused smile, "Can I take you out to coffee?"
She hadn't expected to be asked out on a coffee date when she decided to visit her dead mother that day but now that she was proposed with the question, there was nothing in her that was telling her to say no. In fact, every bone in her body yelled to say yes. If she told Gwen, her sister, how momentarily happy this made her, Gwen would say that London had been deprived of a romantic relationship for so long that she was just grasping at straws and this straw didn't seem to be one of the men hitting on her in the club but a complete stranger she met at the cemetery. Like the men she met in the club or the pub were any better.
When his smile began to waver, his confidence staggering with her silence, she quickly jumped back into the conversation. "I'd love to, Andrew Cai," she answered at last, feeling strangely excited when she said his name like it was code for something. She was acting like a complete fool. Maybe Gwen was right. London hadn't been out in so long that she was getting excited over a simple coffee date. If it was even a date to begin with.
"Great."
"I'll meet you at six at the Golden Quaff, after I clock off from work," she told him. Neither of them had stopped smiling in the last five minutes.
"Sounds good," he nodded. "See you then, and uh, sorry again for the flowers. I'll make up for it next time."
Oh, they were definitely flirting. While she was not sure of it at the beginning, she was certain of it now. Cute, harmless flirting didn't hurt anyone.
Even as she walked away from him and into the cemetery, her mind drifting off to different scenarios of how this evening would go, she could not stop beaming. Maybe it was his charm, with those dashing looks and that charming smile. Maybe his good looks — black hair shifting with the wind, his eyes smiling and a light stubble dusting his chin — maybe that was what made her feel like she was a teenager again, crushing on someone that looked absolutely model worthy.
"Hey Mum," she greeted, placing the flowers at the head of her gravestone. "So you're probably wondering why these aren't the yellow tulips I usually get and why I can't seem to get this goddamn smile off my face. It's all thanks to Andrew Cai who I just met outside of the cemetery. And he asked me out for coffee. I know I should have said no, because it's not really like me to go out with strangers but Mum, I swear he just looks so charming. All I could do was say yes!"
Sighing dreamily, she crouched down beside her mother's grave. "I know Gwen's right," she admitted softly, "I should get out more. I just wish she wouldn't be so harsh about it. And yeah, maybe that's why I said yes but it's whatever."
It was almost as if she could hear her mother scolding her.
"Yeah, you're right, it's not whatever," she confessed with a sigh and just like that a conversation started flowing out, obviously one-sided, and yet merely sitting next to her mother's grave gave her a sense of comfort that she never quite felt within anyone else's presence.
"I should get going before I'm late for work," she said, getting onto her feet and dusting the dirt off her butt. "I'm a little nervous for this evening. Wish me luck."
And it turned out that she had every right to be nervous because that evening the coffee date didn't pan out like any of the scenarios she had played in her head. It went worse and as she stormed out of the Golden Quaff cafe she was not sure if she was more angry at herself for being so trusting and open or at him for being a complete and utter arse.