Chapter Seven

Alexander Hamilton was happy. At last, she had given in. He knew she would come back to him, helpless. He knew women like her too well. They were just after money; all they needed were money, fame, properties and power. He had just thrown the arrow in the right direction.

Now, she would have to bow down in front of him. No matter how big his own problem was, a woman surrending to his demand was a treat to watch. Not that he was a sadist or a hater of females, but the carnal satisfaction that he received when she called him to meet regarding the deal was out of the world. He had been right; only money could buy people- be it men or women. Money talked, he reminded himself again.

With a longing sip from his everyday usual sweet coffee, he leaped inside his black Lexus, buckled his seatbelt and started for Cafe Delilah. He had never been there before, such a middle class name, he mused. A fifteen minutes of ride dropped him in front of the cafe. It was an old, rusty coffee shop that made him gag.

The coffee shop was in the town square and around the edges were food vendors, giving the middle of the town a sort of market atmosphere. It was the colour of supermarket oranges, both inside and outside, he noticed with a scowl. A man came outside in a hurry, the door closing slowly and a familiar jazz music poured into his ears.

Alex entered inside, exactly at time. The cafe tables in their rich deep browns, the aroma with its dark aromatic perfume made him remember how much he used to like coffee shops when he was a teenager. The coffee shops nowadays were open air, a sort of covered patio with tables at a respectful distance apart.

But this cafe was old fashioned; the tables were cloistered and close with little room between them. And amidst the hustle, people calling out their orders, waitresses going around and the noise of chattering and gossiping, his eyes found Faith.

She was sitting on a couch, her back facing him. He knew it was her by her hair; it was an unique shade of golden he had never seen. Golden and peach mixed together in waves and curls, coming up to her shoulders. He sighed and made his way towards her.

"Good to see you again so soon, sweetheart." He sat himself on the couch opposite to her.

"I am not your 'sweetheart!'" She rolled her eyes at him.

The deepest brown of her eyes enthralled him, "Ah, but you will be. If you choose to marry me."

Faith didn't understand how this man managed to look perfect all the time. His brown hair was no more messy and chaotic, it was now neatly combed and gelled into perfection. He was wearing a black, fitting jacket with white tees and grey cotton trousers. Well, he was Alexander Hamilton. He had his own company and now he was going to get his father's as well, of course, he had money to buy latest fashion trends.

"I am ready to accept the deal. I will marry you," She kept her head down. "but you have to promise that-"

"I'll pay for your grandma's entire treatment." He said, nodding his head.

"Where is the contract?"

"I'll have it drawn by tomorrow. It will have all the necessary clauses, don't worry. After six months, you will be free." Alex smirked.

"Fine." She didn't know what more to say so she kept her head down again.

"I know that you had to bow down to me, but you don't have to keep your head down throughout this meeting."

She immediately looked up, her gaze burning into him. "You need a wife to take over your father's damn company! I need money to save my granny! So, don't you think we both bowed down to each other because of our own personal agendas?" Her question startled him.

"I don't mean to be rude."

She glared at him. "You don't have to try and be rude. It comes naturally to you."

Alex smiled. That same emotionless smile that made her want to throttle him. "Give me your number, I'll text you the details of the next meet. We have to sign the contract."

She took his phone and saved her number on it, all the while, praying to God that it was all a terrible nightmare. But it wasn't. It was very much real.

"See you later, sweetheart." He got up and was about to leave when she grabbed his palm.

Her hands were baby soft, enveloping his rough ones into a hold. It was as if her hands were meant for his; he was surprised at the fact how her hands enclosed his own perfectly. Cold winds whipped, chilling his skin and simultaneously warming him; her soft hands were warm, almost transfering the heat to his cold ones.

Faith was bemused herself. Why did she hold his hand? She could have stopped him with her voice. He was looking at her, incredulous, as if trying to question her atrocious behaviour. Shame clouded her being as she released his hand and gave him a nervous smile.

"Won't you try the cappuccino here? It's the best!" She adjusted her hair and looked at him again.

Alex breathed. Well, the entire time she was grasping his rough hands with her soft ones, he forgot how to breathe. He had never felt so calm, tranquil and peace. It was as if his inner battle had come to a standstill, his demons were silent, only the goodness and peace shined. It was a wrong feeling, the feeling of peace, he meant. It was bad. Peace was bad. He hadn't felt that feeling for such a long time and now suddenly, a girl touched his hand and it was eerily quiet within him? No, that couldn't be.

He had never allowed any woman to hold his hands. The gesture of holding hands seemed alien to him, it seemed emotional and personal. He didn't do emotional; having meaningless sex without any entanglement of feelings was easier for him. It was safe.

"Alex? Are you listening?"

"Uh, yeah. No, I don't like cappuccino. And remember, please don't hold my hand again. It makes me uncomfortable." He said, his voice plain and expressionless. He turned on his heels and exited the cafe in a hurry.

Faith slumped back her shoulders. She knew it was too enthusiastic of her to grab his hand but it wasn't that bad. It was just hand-holding, wasn't it? As far as she knew, nobody had a problem with holding hands. Perhaps, Alexander did, she thought to herself. What a weird guy!

A few minutes ago when she was grabbing his hand, he didn't seem to mind. He had seemed deep in thought. He had been thinking something and she was sure she had seen a sparkle in his eyes; a passing emotion that shined in his green eyes. As soon as sense had hit her and her hands left his, he had become emotionless as before. She couldn't imagine how a person could change his emotions so easily; showing them and masking them back to back.

Holding the cup up to her lips, she sipped the famous cappuccino of Cafe Delilah and sighed.

What had she done to her life?