This is your daily dose of stress. Brought to you by the most easily stressed creature you'd ever met.
Walkout
Without further clashes, the interview had ended. I went back to Kim and Macy to return the clothes and change back to mine. I couldn't even speak to them after my ordeal in the studio.
I felt restless. I went to the women's room to wipe the makeup off my face. For good measure, I repeatedly splashed cold water on my face. And upon seeing my skin scrubbed raw on the mirror, the tightness in my chest loosened up a little bit.
Then I exited the restroom and almost jumped. Jace was already waiting in the hallway with my handbag. My chest tightened up again.
He held out my bag, "Let's go. I don't want one more second in this place."
"Me too," I agreed. I took the bag from him.
But not just this place, I didn't want anywhere near Jace at the moment too.
We took the elevator down to the parking lot. Jace's strides were long and I didn't even try to keep up. My legs took their own pace .
There was no comment as he held the passenger door to his blue Jaguar. Nothing when he had to wait at least fifteen seconds before I got in and he shut the door with a thud. Quietly, I put on my seatbelt. Neither did Jace speak.
The next thing I knew, we were speeding through the streets. It took a few minutes to realize my surroundings.
"Jace, this isn't the way to my house."
He drove with one hand. His other arm propped against the window. His eyes flicked to me through the rearview mirror.
"My mom reserved a restaurant for lunch," he replied.
I straightened in my seat, "With them? Why are you only telling me now?"
His eyes were on the road, "Just the two of us."
"Oh," but at that realization... just the two of us? No, I wouldn't be able to stomach the smell of food at this rate. "I'm not hungry. Please drive me home instead."
Jace answered with a scoff, "You have the audacity to decline after practically becoming deadweight during that interview?"
I had gotten used to Jace's barbed words. But the delivery in which he said it was unsettling.
I drew back and stared at him, "What are you trying to say?"
He smirked at the cars speeding in front of us, "You froze up back there. Don't even deny it."
I wasn't going to. It was so obvious and I didn't find it in me to lie. But which reminded me...
I directed a stare at him. "You changed the script. We had agreed on a storyline and you change it last minute—"
"I never agreed to that garbage. What adult in their right mind would look at a thirteen year-old romantically?"
I felt a headache coming on, "That is exactly what I said. My mom said you'd seen that script first and—"
"I did," he cut in. "Do you know how ridiculous that script was? Who in their right mind would believe that kind of trash?"
My mouth hung open. This conversation was dumb to say the least... but I breathed in deeply to right myself down.
As calmly as I could, "Then why didn't you tell me beforehand?"
"When? When you didn't come to my office? When they'd confiscated your phone? That's my problem? Did you believe for one second I'd accept this kind of nonsense?"
All the blood was rushing to my head, "You could've told my mom!"
I had shouted before I even knew it.
But what I suddenly realized was that Jace was ticked off too. The car steadily sped up. His jaw clenched and his brows drew together.
"When are you going to quit this?" Jace asked. The question was deceptively calm.
Since when was his mood like this? I was stressed and this was making me even more nervous, "Quit what? Slow the car down!"
Jace laughed in a low tone. He glanced at me all for two seconds, "You're avoiding me. I already know the reason for it so denying would be pointless."
My back straightened. He noticed, of course. The hand on the steering wheel tightened and his knuckles turned white.
He knew the reason?
"Just admit it. This has something to do with the engagement, right?"
The engagement.
Something in my expression made Jace grit his teeth. He knew that I saw him that night with... Claire Smith? That I heard the things he said?
I looked at the man. But if he knew the reason, what was this attitude he was showing me all of a sudden? Why did it look like I was the one at fault?
I felt like I was forcing out words from my tightening throat, "You think you have the right to be angry?"
My words seemed to fuel the fire.
"And this is how you react to confrontation?"
"You?" I asked, incredulous, "You're confronting me? In which planet does your logic—"
"You met with Zeke Garcia behind my back! I hadn't been gone for two minutes and you're running to that bastard? Don't make excuses, Isla!"
For a moment, my mind blanked and my anger deflated. I felt dumb, unable to absorb what he just said. I was so slow to realize what he was trying to say.
"W-What?" stupefied, I repeated the name, "Zeke Garcia?"
Why did it feel like a mistake to speak that name aloud? Jace's eyes were blazing. I had wandered into a territory where I was prey and the predator was one step to the word rabid.
"How many times have you met him without letting me know? I know of two times. Are there more? And during the interview, were you happy knowing how indebted our hotel is to his family—?"
My hands went to my temples, "Hold up. I am not believing this conversation! Make it clear to me. What in the world are you saying?"
"Don't you dare deny it!" He raised his voice.
"Deny what?" I retorted, frustrated. "What are you accusing me of?"
Our situation was of bad taste. This was not the type of discussion you wanted to have in a car that was going sixty mile an hour.
He didn't answer me directly, "This will be your last warning, Isla. If you have something going on with Zeke Garcia, I will not be made a fool—"
"Me? You're accusing me of—" I slapped a hand over my forehead. I had to hit something else before I lost my mind and hit the driver instead, "That you would think of me something so ridiculous when you're the one—!"
I stopped myself. I stopped just before I could bring up something that I had no tangible proof of. What would I do if he'd deny the issue with Claire Smith?
"I'm the one what?" Jace growled.
I had fully turned on my seat to look at him, already at my wits' end. "How did we get to this topic? We were just discussing about that stupid script that you didn't follow! All I'm saying is that next time, don't throw me under the bus like that! That's all! Because you don't have any idea what I felt—"
"Scared? Of course I knew what you would feel. Why else do you think I did that?"
My blood chilled at his words. I was suddenly lightheaded.
"That was... deliberate?"
Jace's eyes were glued to the front, "What do you think?"
"W—why?" my voice croaked.
"So you know I'm not to be toyed." Jace's voice was somber, "You don't want to know how far I'd go. So whatever you're planning, with Zeke... anything that would go against me, you better rethink it—."
"Stop the car."
"Are you listening to—"
"I SAID STOP THE CAR!"
Jace Black's blue Jaguar screeched to a halt. I was breathing heavily. My whole feeling felt like it was burning underneath my thin clothes. I couldn't explain exactly how I felt. It was terrible and overwhelming and his words were ringing in my head.
The moment the car stopped completely, my fingers had clicked the seatbelt off.
"What the hell, Isla?!"
I wasn't listening to him one more second. My whole body was shaking. My hand went to open the door and I pushed myself out of the car.
"Where the hell are you—?"
I slammed the door in his face and started to walk away from the car in the opposite direction of where we were going. Anywhere. Damn it, just anywhere please.
I hadn't taken ten steps when I was grabbed by the arm and spun around.
Jace's dark expression should've been enough warning but I didn't care.
"Let go of me!" I put all the force in my five-three stature but he wouldn't budge. There was no way to wriggle away from him.
"Don't pull stunts like this in the middle of the highway!"
"I don't care! Get away from me!" I was screaming. I was struggling and even with the additional strength from desperate feelings in me, I was no match for his brute.
This was a feeling I was too used to by now. It was constant lately. It was always with this unfeeling monster. And it was a feeling that I hated beyond anything and everything my mind could conjure.
I put all the hatred into my eyes as I glared at him, because if my voice cracked, the words may never convey how I actually felt.
"I was scared, Jace Black! I was so scared I don't even... do you know how it feels? I was dying and not dying! It felt like I was staring at the exit of a burning house but my body refuses to move! Do you know how pathetic it is to know I'm unrealistically helpless but I don't know how to help myself? I know how irrational it is to be scared but I was still so scared. And you put me through that! And for what? A daft warning?!"
I'd never screamed so much in my whole life and my throat was strained. My voice was going to be at its limits any second now.
I pried his fingers off my arm, closing my eyes to calm myself down. It wasn't working of course, but I still had something to say.
"I regret telling you about my trauma. I thought the worst thing would be the horrified faces of my parents if I suggested getting a shrink for myself. Or maybe you'd laugh and call me dramatic. But to think you would use it against me for some fictional sin I'd committed against you? Go any lower and you might just walk into hell, you monster."
I hated confrontations. I hated fights. If I could go through life never having this type of encounter, I would be so happy. But life isn't like that, I guess.
There was this strange feeling when you get things out of your chest. The balloon in me was deflating because I'd let out some air. I was tired now more than anything.
With jerky actions, I turned my back on him and rummaged through my handbag for my phone. First things first, I needed to call my driver. I glanced around for an easy landmark and noticed a popular fast food chain just beside a gasoline station.
It was half a block away. That would do. My feet started to move—
"Fictional sin? Are you kidding me? And how would you explain meeting with Zeke? I have proof of—!"
I whirled around, "Maybe if you spent time at Nero Hotels doing your work rather than amassing enemies they won't go after me!"
Jace stared at me. I didn't want to hear whatever else he could reply to that.
"Don't put up the victim card to justify your actions," I told him bleakly. "You act like you're so disadvantaged by my marrying me. I'm Isla Porter, the heir to the Prestigio fortune. Even I understand how big I am."
The last part shouldn't have slipped. I didn't even look at him enough to check if he got the reference. I wasn't willing to open a new can of worms to fish for more reasons to fight.
This pairing was already doomed as it is right now.
I pulled out my phone from the bag and turned it on. I dialed my driver's number and pressed it to my ear.
"We have two weeks until the wedding," I told the wind, "I think it's a good idea not to contact each other in that timeframe too."
This time, I'd meant to walk away for good. But the phone was snatched from my hand and I turned to see Jace cancel the call.
"I'll drive you home."
I reached for the phone but he put it in his coat pocket.
"I really don't want to talk to you anymore," I told him sincerely, my eyes averted. "I want to calm down."
"Then we won't talk. I'll drive you home and see you in two weeks. At the wedding."
My eyes finally took in his face. My chest hurt. His eyes were molten mercury. There was a certain level of frustration in that face that I understood. And yet I couldn't really understand him.
"Your parents would ask questions if you call your driver to pick you up in the middle of nowhere," he reasoned in a soft voice.
Did he believe me with the Zeke Garcia issue? I no longer wanted to read into his actions or words.
"Fine," I gave in. I walked past him to the passenger side of the Jaguar.