Chapter 3

CLARA POV "What was that, Allison?" I whisper-yell as the door closes. "That's the question I should ask you. You can't release your frustration on him" "If not him, then who? My mother, who isn't even bothered to answer my calls? And let's not forget he's late, he's the one who bailed on me, and here you are off-" "No... No... NO. Is that handsome young man the Bryce Jefferson?" She gasps, her eyes wide. "Don't use 'The' before his name; he's not royalty. And you've seen his pictures. He looks just like them, maybe even more hand- Nope." Shaking off thoughts of his hazel eyes and perfectly swept-back dark hair, I notice Allison's guilty expression. Arms crossed, I give her a warning look. "Wait a minute Allison, why did bring all that food” I asked after remembering the large volume of food she had dropped on his table before I dragged her here. "He ordered them," she shrieked defensively, a sign that she was up to no good, a common occurrence with Allison. I raise a suspicious brow, but she meets my gaze defiantly. "He looked taken aback as if he'd never seen pasta before," I snide, gritting my teeth. "Taking sides with the dear future husband, are we?" “Definitely not, but explain to me what happened” I said in a calm voice "Okay, fine. When I took his order, he was looking at you like he'd never seen a woman before. So I suggested if he wanted to try today's special, and he agreed. When I asked which one exactly, he didn't answer. So I asked if I should bring all of them, and he said yes. So it's not my fault," she explains in one breath. "You tricked him into ordering them, then," I said eyeing her with a little bit of anger and awe. "I don't mix business with pleasure, no matter how handsome the man is. And it was dubious if anything. So don't look at me like I'm a con man tricking handsome-" "Are you going to stop gushing over his looks now? What if he doesn't pay for it? My mother sent him here; she must have told him to come empty-bellied and take whatever he wants because it will be a family affair from now on." "Is that what you're worried about?" "Among other things," I shrug, and she rolls her eyes in disbelief. "He looks like someone who can pay for his own food without batting an eyelid. He's from Manhattan, he must be used to overpriced coffee. We charge nothing in comparison." "You're right," I nod in agreement. "I'll hand him the check; he'll take the hint." "What? No. That's not what I meant." But I'm already heading for the door. "And he also matched your description of that shady man from all those months ago. That's why I did it." "Shut up, Allison. Now you're just lying." I cut her off. "Umm... And you can't go like that. Let me do some touch ups." "I'm a strong, confident woman. I don't need war paint to get a man to submit, besides, he has already seen me, as such he'll notice.I am not going to let him think I'm making an effort to impress him." “Never!!!!” "Yeah, yeah. I get it, now go," Allison said, giving me a hug before returning to her orders. With Bryce's check in my hand, armed with newfound ego and an established attitude, I'm ready to face him again. Approaching his table, he looks like a man ready to discuss business. Handing him the check, he seems a bit taken aback, but he bows his head slightly in acknowledgment. Allison appears out of nowhere, grabs the bills from his neatly stacked leather wallet with a gold clip, blushes on purpose to tease me, and thanks him for the generous tip, using his name. I had introduced Allison to him. He doesn't deserve this, but Allison sure did. Bryce had a small talk with her and very politely asked her to pack the rest of the desserts to go and I knew then that he has won her over. There were a few people watching us from the corner of their eyes but they were out of earshot. If he wants to play nice, so can I. "Sorry. It took so long we had some tiny emergency." I smile. Damn me and my manners. It was the first thing that came to my mind. I could have simply said he smells like a rotten pig, with a smile on my face. And why am I apologizing? He took 3 days to show up and also it's not an emergency if it's tiny. ""No, I understand. Work comes first." He said with a calm tone. Again with the politeness, the sexy voice, and that easy smile. I almost melted, but when I repeated his words in my head to make sense of them for a proper response, I apprehended what he had just said. He understands? Is he for real? It was his turn to apologize for bailing on me. My fury spiked, and the fake smile dropped from my face as I speak. "How about we take this outside..." I say snidely. His expression changes like I was actually initiating a fistfight in the alley. But I meant that I really wanted to beat the narcissistic jerk out of him. "I mean my apartment. I live above the cafe. There are too many people here. Neither of us will be comfortable," I scrunch my nose apologetically, giving him a sweet smile. "Sure," he says with an uncomfortable laugh at his stupidity for taking me in the wrong way. He surveys the other tables as he stands, and my naive customers shift in their chairs, creating a loud shuffling sound. Bryce appears a bit nervous at their act, looking around for some sort of help. “No one is coming for you, baby.” I muttered. Bryce POV Clara pulled her friend inside, giving me time to pull myself together. The food tasted heavenly, taking up my time when I should actually be forming a new strategy. The pasta was so good I wolfed it down, my lost appetite from last night coming back. Biting into the cannoli, the waitress packed the cake in a box that I mistook for a wooden log. It looked natural with small wild leaves growing out and tiny mushrooms. Maybe this Kingston isn't so talentless like the rest of her family. Putting that aside, I can't let her have the upper hand. When she came back, she looked both beautiful and confident, just how I want my girl to be, a fatal combination. Handing me the check was the right thing to do, I needed to pay for the food. But for her, it seemed like a power play. When I opened the door for her, she tensed for a bit, as if she isn't used to the small gesture. That formed an uneasy feeling inside me. I met her gaze closely, getting the chance to look into her eyes. Those green orbs shined bright in the sunshine, like a dark green forest under the sunlight. She broke the contact and headed for the stairs, leaving me no option but to follow her like a lost puppy. It's not the time to act like a fool and gush over those lips I would love to devour and the hair I want to wrap around my fingers. As I descended the flight stairs to look over the neighborhood my muscles tensed in fear, picturing it at night. It must get deserted. The store to the cafe's left that shares the same wall was closed. And judging by the rows of cars and extended establishment for cafe, nobody uses it. The same situation was for another establishment around. The one on the opposite side of the road is a big, garage. Thankfully only the door is halfway open as the front faces the opposite direction. Other shops around also looked closed, and heavily locked as though they were used only for storage purposes. Not at all an ideal place for a girl to live alone or even run this cafe at night, as I know it closes around 9 PM. I have heard about this neighborhood, It was not used to be clean a decade ago. Motorcycle gangs, drugs, underground clubs, you name it. When Clara was about to open the door, I mentally prepared myself to give her an earful and literally shake some sense into her, If she had taken the key from under the doormat or a flowerpot with dead plants. I have zero tolerance for stupidity. But thankfully, she is better than that. She only opened one of the two doors and I had to move sideways to get inside the wonderland. Her apartment is beautiful, I never thought I would like such a tiny place. She has almost everything in here. The quarter of the room is taken up by cartons of food supplies I reckon is meant for the cafe supplies. The rest of the apartment is neat, clean, and organized. Her place reflects exactly what I expect my house help to do for me because I'm a disorganized pig. The decorations are remnants from her cafe, providing a nice cozy vibe. She's smart, and now I have no doubt she's behind the envision. An interior decorator might fail to give this sort of touch. She's talented. Speaking of, she's already looking at me, and she doesn't look happy. But I have to pretend to be unaffected. "Your place..." I trail, looking around. "It's pretty and well organized," I say after clearing my throat. After a bit, she responded. "Thank you. Would you like to have some coffee?" It was not a question as she turns around to work on the kettle. I sneak a look around and find a small kitchen behind the boxes of baking supplies. I quickly dart my gaze from her back when she turns around and pretend to be lost on my phone. We take a few sips in silence, my fingers closed around the cup tightly. When she clears her throat, I peer at her, taking a long slurp, the coffee mug hiding half of my face. She places her coffee mug over the small table, and I mimic the gesture. "Soo.. About the wedding," she trails off, raising her brows, expecting me to initiate the topic. I am royally screwed.