Chapter 80: Chapter 75

Song: 'Little Bit More' by Suriel Hess

I know sometimes I'm slow to tell you

It's no one else's fault but mine

If you don't know by the way I hold you

My heart's been yours this whole time

Oh, I hope I show it

Just in case you need to know

I fall in love with you a little bit more

Little bit, little bit, a little bit more

Every time I think I've lost my way

I fall in love with you a little bit more

Little bit, a little bit more than before

Even on the days I'm not so sure

I fall in love with you a little bit more

........................................................................

HANNAH’S POV

“Do you want to go head out somewhere?” Elijah asked me as the car stopped in the beach house driveway.

This is the first thing he’s said to me since our staring battle this afternoon.

Why is he asking me that?

Does that mean he’s offering to take me out?

My heart skipped a beat at that mere exposition.

“Why do you ask?” I asked carefully to be safe, trying not to jump to a conclusion.

“So Raymond can be off duty for the night and be back to his quarter unless of course, you need to go out,” his tone was rather dry, drier than it had been for the past few weeks.

Seriously, this is his reason?

And here I thought... forget it.

I noticed his tone held resistance and accusation. I know he’s not a man of a cordial nature, I’ve learned the hard way. And he’s definitely not a man to chew on his words either, and physically there’s no change in his expressions either, but somehow it seems like the words are coming out of an invisibly tightened jaw.

He’s a person who says things that shouldn’t be said ever, so what could he possibly hold back?

“I think I’ll pass and rest at home; thank you for your generous offer,” I answered, unable to hold back my slight resentment towards him for not asking me out.

Asking you out? Now we’re getting somewhere.

I didn’t mean it like that. Oh whatever, who cares what I mean if I’m just talking to myself?

“Alright,” he then pressed down the partition wall inside the car. “Your work is done, Raymond; take the rest of the day off.” Thanking his master, the professional chauffeur bid farewell for the night and left.

I too got out of the car but stopped when I saw him taking the front seat.

“You’re… you’re leaving?"    I asked abruptly.

“Yeah,” he answered looking straight ahead and avoiding my eyes.

“Oh,” the word came out rather as a disappointment. Having nothing else to say, I decided it was best to go inside the house.

Why am I feeling bad all of a sudden to be left alone?

And why does he seem so distant?

I know we’re not on the best of terms, but I thought we were heading somewhere - no pun intended.

“Wait,” he said unexpectedly, making me turn back. “Would you be fine on your own?” For a split second, I thought he'd let his icy walls down; his distant tone held a speck of care in it.

“Oh, yeah, absolutely.” Oh, you stupid girl, why would you say that when you know you want him to stay? My heart protested at what my mouth said.

He locked his eyes with mine, scrutinizing whether I was telling the truth or not.

For some reason I wanted him to see the truth in them and ignore what I said; I wanted him to see beyond the façade of my words without having to say it. I don’t know why but I wanted him to stay.

He didn’t.

“If you say so,” he deepened his gaze, not looking convinced, but I guess he decided to take me on my words.

“Thank you for being there for me today,” I said sincerely, remembering that I never said it to him. “But I’ll be alright now,” I lied. “Enjoy your night. Goodbye,” I smiled, not hiding the fact that it was a fake one.

He nodded in return; his gaze intensified before it went blank and dark. I too decided to leave and turned away to head inside while his car accelerated to life and sped away.

I sighed as I threw my bag away and plopped down on the couch in the living room. I felt the exhaustion of the day taking its toll on me within the last few moments, and I don’t know why I feel so irritated all of a sudden.

I closed my eyes to relax and calm down but instead went down the memory lane of today’s events.

And in every moment all I saw was his face, but somehow the image my brain chose to ponder on was from a few moments ago.

His cold and distant eyes.

Sometimes I feel he can see right through me even when I put on a thousand walls, but now that I wanted him to see what I actually wanted, he didn’t see it.

Well, he didn’t see it or chose not to see it, I don’t know.

But what I know is that it bothered me. A lot.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

My thoughts were interrupted when my cell phone started ringing. It was from an unknown number, so I chose to ignore it with no energy or mood to talk to anyone.

After ignoring it the third time, I was officially annoyed enough to finally pick up the call.

Whoever is on the other end of the call has a death wish.

“Finally you pick up; I thought I’d have to send a postcard,” said the unknown voice cheerfully.

“Who’s this?” I asked, skeptic that I'd heard the voice before.

“Ouch! It’s the escort to your service, ma'am,” the voice said seductively.

Oh, so that’s why it sounded so familiar.

“Max, hi, I didn’t know it was you,” I said with fake courtesy, “How did you get my number?” I asked.

The company has a strict policy when it comes to sharing personal information, and there’s no way he got my number for him.

“I have my ways; I’m a mafia agent too, remember?” He stretched out the same joke from the afternoon, which I no longer find funny.

Woah! That’s a first: you love your jokes, no matter how bad they are.

I guess I’m not in the mood, probably because I’m tired from the morning’s episode. I feel extremely lethargic.

And really angry too.

“Do you need anything?” I sounded much more irritated than I intended. “I mean, everything’s okay?” I covered.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go out tonight since it’s the weekend we all go out, the team. I thought I could show you around LA, but if you’re not interested, then I understand,” he said, catching up on my tone.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, but I’ll pass; I’m too worn out for the day; I’ll just rest at home.” I gave the same excuse I gave a certain asshole a while ago.

The mention of his name is making my nerves pop.

And causing heartache for being left alone.

“Of course, I understand; some other time maybe,” his tone was dejected. “Well, you take care, Hannah; I’ll see you Monday.”

I felt bad for shooting down his niceness so heartlessly.

Oh great, so first I was only angry, and now I’m feeling bad too? Marvelous!

But why am I feeling either of the two? Why am I mellowing over something that trivial and shooting down my chances of having a good time because of it... because of him?

It’s fucking LA, baby!

Might as well go out and enjoy rather than sulking here alone in this giant beach house. Though, mostly my idea of a perfect weekend consists of sleep and loads of it and staying in especially now that there's no one to drag my lazy ass outside, I enjoy the solace of my isolation.

But not today. Today the idea of staying home alone is irking me. I'm young and boring but still, I deserve to enjoy myself too,

If he’s out, so should I be!

So it’s not that you want to go out; you just want him to know you’re out. That’s one of the most stupid things you’re doing, and you’ve done a lot.

“Max, wait,” I called out before he hung up. “Actually, you know what? Count me in.” I announced before I changed my mind and succumbed to sleeping through the weekend.

“Alright!” said excitedly, a little too much for that.

“Send me the location; I’ll be there in half an hour or so,” I said as I lazily sat up on the sofa, pushing myself to get ready and not fall asleep.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pick you up. Drop me the pin and I’ll pick you up at 7:30,” he offered.

After sending him the location for the beach house, I dragged myself and dressed up. I don’t know exactly where we’re going, but since it’s just casual sightseeing, I kept my attire pretty simple. I wore a black spaghetti tank top and paired it with black straight ripped jeans and threw on a blue denim jacket for a pop of color and because it’s slightly cold outside. I wore sandals; it kept the look comfy and casual. I didn’t change my accessories and kept them as I wore today in the office, put on a little bit of concealer to look fresh, redid my lip and cheek tint, and voila, I was ready in less than ten minutes. I still had almost twenty minutes before Max arrived. I decided to blow dry my hair quickly to make it look presentable.

About fifteen minutes later, he texted that he was outside, and since I was ready, I wasted no time and left the house.

“Hi,” I greeted as I got inside the car.

“Wow! You look something!” He exclaimed as his eyes roamed all over my body, “Would it be okay if I called you hot?”

“No, it wouldn’t be,” I shot down his excitement. “So where’s the rest of them?” I asked, looking out and around for the rest of the team members.

“I said we all go out; I didn’t say we go out together,” he smirked sassily, but when he saw I was not reciprocating his moves, he surrendered. “I’m kidding, we’re meeting everyone for the drinks later; meanwhile, I thought I'd show you around Hollywood; outsiders dig that shit,” he explained.

“Fair enough!” I nodded and relaxed in the car seat. When I noticed he didn’t start the car but rather kept looking at me intensely, I asked, “What are we waiting for?”

"If you don't mind me asking, but are you staying here?" He asked peeping outside the window at this too good to be true beach house.

Ah, shit! Why didn't I think this through, it makes no sense for me to be living here with my 'boss'. And God forbid if Elijah only got a whiff of it that I risked exposing ourselves, he won't hesitate before killing me with his bare hands, something he's been dreaming of all along,

"Yeah, this is the Norman's family beach house and since our dads are friends they thought I should stay here," I tried covering it up as nonchalantly as possible but deep down I was a little freaked out.

Dear Lord, please make him buy my excuse, I promise I won't be so dumb next time.

He nodded cynically. It was enough for me, as long as he didn't question further, I was good.

“Before we leave from here, can I ask you something?” He looked serious.

Jesus Christ! Was that too much to ask?

“No,” I said to ease the environment, but he was rather taken aback. “Of course, you can; way to be overdramatic,” I shook my head on the surface but dreaded it inside.

“Are you guys like a thing or something? You and Mr. Norman?” Of all the things I thought he’d ask, this was the only thing I didn't want it to be.

“What? No!” I shouted and realized my reaction was way too offended for his speculation, “Psst, what gave you that idea?” I scoffed but kept it subtle this time.

“Did you not see him today?” He looked at my confused expression and then continued further, “Well, we did! The man was losing his shit seeing you in that state. I've never seen him like this ever; he’s always so calm and composed, even during the biggest crisis, but he was something else today, something I haven’t seen in the past three years. Moreover, he called you baby! What more does one need to know that you're his girl?” My eyes went wide, and my heartbeat went up by a thousand miles.

His words resonated in my head which I feel is a void space, echoing and bouncing the loudest.

Baby?

As in B.A.B.Y. baby?

Error 404, system crash! Yes, Hannah, the word baby is used to refer to newborn humans or little above, and most often it is used as a romantic endearment.

Oh, shut up, this is serious.

But now that I think about it, he did say something like this when I was having a meltdown. I was just too preoccupied to notice,

Well, he said a lot of things, but baby?

Why is it so hard to believe, and why do I want it to be true?

And why the hell is my heart doing somersaults inside me?

“His girl? Baby?” I mocked, “Yeah right, you're either delusional or you're deaf.” Heat rose to my cheeks as I recalled the events. “The man won't care less if I was dead, literally,” I said to him but tried to convince myself.

Just FYI, the man is very concerned about your life these days.

Okay, so I’m not even convincing myself now? Oh, come on.

“Oh good, just thought I should clear it out before I make a move; I don't want any beef with the boss man,” he raised his hands. “But are you sure he's not into you because really, never in my life have I seen a single expression on his face, let alone so many?” he asked skeptically again.

“Oh, that. That's because I'm his wife!” I said it casually with a shrug.

When people ask me about him, I often tease them by making this joke about it because no one ever takes it seriously; it's so absurd that it makes people drop this topic altogether.

Always works like a charm.

“Oohhh, now we're talking,” he once again put his sexy face on. “Girlfriends are off-topic, but wives, now that's my playground, Mrs. Norman.” My heart skipped a beat by being addressed with his name.

He came closer to me and winked. I leaned back stopping his advances. I know he was joking, but something about this title moved something inside me.

Wait, butterflies?

“Now, now, let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?.“ I pushed him back with my finger on his shoulder, not intimidated at all by his nearness. “But hey anyways, before we go further, I don't want to lead you on, okay? I'm not looking for anything right now. I just want to focus on my career at the moment. But we can be friends.” I offered my hand.

“Because of the husband?” He whispered jokingly, trying to ease the embarrassing situation of being turned down with what he didn't know was the truth.

“Because of the husband,” I confirmed whispering back, which I know is the truth.

I know I'm not bound by the laws of marriage as we have an agreement and how infidelity is so easy in today’s world, but it’s something I’ve never been okay with. Though we don’t live like that, our marriage is real, contractual but still real, and I’d like to respect that. Also, because these advances don’t affect me, love is not for me, and I don’t want to indulge in a relationship for only the physical aspect of it, also something I’m not okay with.

Are you sure it’s because you swore off to not be in a relationship and not because of the two deep, cold, mysterious eyes that you’re finding yourself lost in, his cold exterior luring you in despite your hardest to maintain distance, Baby?

Urgh! Why is this damned word still stuck in my head? Get out!

I mentally smacked my head, but it didn’t work, as expected.

“I respect that,” he nodded shortly. “But. I don't think you can resist my charm.” he took my hand and planted a kiss on the back of it, his eyes flashing something dark in them. Boy, this dude does not back out easy.

“I like your enthusiasm, but sadly all this trying has to go wasted.” I gave him an assured smirk, trying my best to convey the message, “Now, let’s get going!” I said I was pretending to put on my fake glasses.

As the car rolled on the busy streets of LA, I took his permission to play some music, in fact, the only song fit for the situation.

“Oh, now I didn’t think you’d be so basic.” Max scrunched his face at my choice of music but grinned nonetheless as the familiar guitar strumming hit the car speakers. I shrugged, and as I started singing to get into the spirit, he joined in too, we both sang at the top of our lungs, our shoulders moving on their own.

I hopped off the plane at LAX.

With a dream and my cardigan

Welcome to the land of fame excess!

Woah! Am I going to fit in?

Jumped in the cab; here I am for the first time.

Look to my right, and I see the Hollywood sign.

This is all so crazy.

Everybody seems so famous.

My tummy's turnin', and I'm feelin' kind of homesick.

Too much pressure, and I'm nervous

That's when the taxi man turned on the radio.

And a Jay-Z song was on

And a Jay-Z song was on

And a Jay-Z song was on

So I put my hands up.

They're playing' my song; the butterflies fly away.

I'm nodding' my head like, yeah.

Movin' my hips like, Yeah,

I got my hands up; they're playing' my song.

They know I'm going to be okay.

Yeah, it's a party in the U.S.

Yeah, it's a party in the U.S.

.......................................................................

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hello, you beautiful people!

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