January 19, 2021: Forelsket

There would be several phenomena in a human's lifetime that they would nowise have the opportunity to be enlightened on.

Syn's encounter with a man, who she had no chance of meeting prior to their happening right at that moment, was considered as such.

One would find the sensation of being enthralled by a single entity, drowning out the dazzling mise-en-scène. 

Her heart felt as if it wouldn't be able to beat again unless it gave its all, waiting for her body to rid the stifling intoxication.

It all happened in a second.

But it defined her future.

Somehow, it was not his soigné mien nor the refined features of a handsome visage that bewitched her sanity. It was him, merely his existence.

"Syn! I am over here!"

The voice of a man calling for her awakened her cognizance that was in a stupor. In actuality, it was only out of panic that her gaze shifted to the man by the counter, the man she speculated to be her client.

She could only give a nod towards the unfamiliar man in front of her. And finally, she was able to walk away. It took all of her strength to hide the budding vexation from the pits of her stomach.

'How strange...'

Halting midway in her steps, Syn had a sudden urge to turn her head. She wanted her gaze to linger on the man, yet her conscience forced refrained her from doing so. 

'Syn, you are here to meet Mr Tristan O' Connor, no more no less. You have already made him wait for a good hour, but here you are, still taking your time. As far as I know, it is not in your dogma to show incivility in front of a customer.'

Putting on a dainty smile, she eventually donned her work attitude.

'This is merely a sentiment that I yielded to on impulse. I won't worry regarding it any further.'

She resumed her stroll, taking her mind away from the stranger every step she took.

Once she was at an arm's length away from the man, Syn stopped to give her courtesies. 

"A pleasant evening to you, Mr Tristan O' Connor. I am Syn Rosenfeldt, your company for tonight. I hope that you forgive the lack of punctuality on my end."

"That is alright. A pleasant one to you too, Miss Rosenfeldt. Let's transfer to a private room so we can converse without any disturbance."

Tristan got down from the tall bar stool. He then put an arm around her waist and lead her to the secluded section of the bar. There was a hidden hallway that was lined with four doors, two on each side. They proceeded to enter the room farthest from the entry.

"This is simple but cosy, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

Upon realizing that she let her words slip, Syn immediately pursed her lips.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I did not mean to say that out loud."

"Well, you are not wrong."

A significantly smaller bar counter compared to the one built on the store proper, filled with an array of extravagant alcoholic drinks, predominantly wine; two single black leather sofa seats separated by a rectangular wooden coffee table, topped with a sleet of glass; a warm lighting, barely enough to illuminate everything inside; the composition of the room was precise as to how Syn defined it, simple but cozy.

"Have a seat, Miss Rosenfeldt. Do you fancy a drink?"

"No, thank you. I will be fine in the meantime."

"If you say so."

The lady settled herself on one of the single couches, gently laying her bag on the floor thereafter. Straightening her back, she joined her legs together then leaned them on one side, putting both of her hands on top of her knees.

The gentleman, on the other hand, took up the seat opposite of hers. 

"Miss Mina Lohnmeyer did inform me that you won't be able to arrive on time because of your job. Besides, I got to have a talk with my superior as well."

"Is that so? Then, I have to thank my supervisor for this."

"Please do. Now, I believe the photograph they sent me did not do justice to your loveliness. It seems that the rumor going around related to a goddess walking on foot is true to an extent."

"I heard nothing except exaggeration in the entirety of your statement. I am but a woman who sells her body in desperation for money. The title of a goddess does not suit such a lowly prostitute."

The way she impugned his complement, and more surprisingly herself, knocked him for a loop. There were even no considerations from her if he would be appalled by the one-sided argument. Still and all, O' Connor was not displeased the least bit.

After all, he preferred talking to women who were attractively feisty.

He smiled to himself and decided to ride along wherever it might be that their talk takes them.

"You mean to say that my tastes are something to scoff at since I chose a lowly prostitute?"

"Isn't that the case?"

A habit of the lady was to test the waters at the outset of the discourse. Depending on the reaction to her retorts, Syn adjusted the way she would phrase her words.

Beginning with a courteous tone, she switched to a cordial one. With only that did she figure out that Tristan O' Connor could tolerate pertinence to a certain, great degree, considering that he was treating the matter at hand in a light manner. She let go of the formalities, seeing that he's going to do the same thing soon.

"Don't take me wrong, Miss Rosenfeldt. I do find you astonishingly attractive. However, what I want to get out of this contract is not your body but your company. Kind of a woman I can display when I need to since I'm only starting the journey to find the love of my life."