His eyes were soft, spreading into waves of sea blues and greens, dancing with the rays of light.
"Oh, I don't know Mr. Hayes. What do people do at restaurants nowadays?" I answered, staring back at the fountain. He snickered.
"A lot of things… eat, drink, dance, find peace …or perhaps, preparation for something later to come," I turned to face him, with the thought of him and that woman. Was he checking if I knew?
"I was enjoying some peace until you came," I shrugged.
"Aha, my apologies for that. I saw you all dressed up and I was just curious really," he scanned me through the corner of his eyes. I wasn't wearing anything alluring, just a simple dress. Yet his eyes seemed to railed and pique of curiosity was written all over his face. "I didn't know who had such exquisite taste."
"Are you saying I don't have any taste?"
"I meant no offense," he quickly ushered. "… it's just that." He paused as if to choose his words correctly. "You're from the suburbs right?" He asked. I looked at him inquisitively, what was he leaning on?
"Not really," I said, as he borrowed his eyebrows at my answer. "I'm from the country, I came to the suburbs to study," I stated.
"Oh… then this makes it more interesting," he stared at the water flowing from the fountain.
"Interesting?" I asked.
"Yes, interesting," he reassured me. "Girl leaves the country to study in the suburbs. Eventually leaves to come to the higher end of the city… and within days she gets a job and now is dining at one of the most exquisite restaurants. One might say you're not just a simple country girl Miss. Harrison."
I smiled. I wonder if he was just plain curious about my social mobility. It was merely shared luck that I had a job interview at his company, and again shared luck that I would be at this restaurant. Jada was a key factor and she wasn't anyone important for him to peak his interest, so why?
"Seems like you should be nervous Mr. Hayes. Who knows, I might just be a reporter," I teased him. His full lips willfully smiled, as he turned to face me. The lights of flurries danced on half of his face showing his side profile. His straight nose, strong dark brows with long eyelashes glowed in the shadows with his perfect cheekbones.
I glazed over his form to see his defined chest curves underneath his shirt. He was definitely handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice. There was no wonder why women would be throwing themselves at him. With good looks and money, they would be willing to undress just to speak about one night.
"Is it possible to test that theory?" He finally spoke. His intense hazel eyes met mine and goosebumps came rushing in like raindrops unnecessarily with no purpose. What entrapment was he thinking? His unreadable expressions put me on edge.
"That depends," I folded my arms underneath my chest. He smirked as if he was smitten. He cocked an eyebrow and the slight tilt of his head made his dark hair gracefully fall to one side.
"Are you here alone?" He quietly asked.
"No," I stated.
"Would they mind if I steal you for the rest of the night?" I looked at him as if he was serious. I grimaced at the thought but gave him a small shell of a smile. Wasn't he talking to a woman earlier?
"I have work in the morning," I eventually relished an awkward response to him.
"Well, I know that," he looked at me intently, it was unnerving. I removed my peer.
"What about your date? I really don't want to cause any double date troubles," knowing he had a list of women's problems that didn't end there, and I didn't want to be added to the list.
"Aha, she's fine," he removed the thought of her so quickly. "Since you didn't answer my first question, why do we go to the bar?"
I didn't object, nor did I find a reason to. I felt I was in a choke hold at his command and I was curious to find out his intentions. With his calm bass, he led me to the bar and we both sat where the wooden stools lined up along the counter, a few feets away from each other.
This room was dimly lit, and the sound of the piano across the top surface. I could hear the clink of ice in a highball drink as it's stirred and the murmur of low voices from people who don't want to be overheard. I could smell the mixture of cloying perfume and stale cigarettes.
"May I interest you in a drink?" He asked as he waved at the bartender.
"Whatever you are having," I replied.
"Are you sure?" I looked at the decorative shelves of bottles. The variety this establishment had was more than enough.
"Afraid I can't handle my drink, Mr. Hayes?" I said as my eyes darted back at him. He smiled and ordered two scotch on the rocks.
"You can call me Marcelo," he said, as he accepted the drinks from the bartender and handed me mine. "You don't mind me calling you Soraya?" As he sipped from his cup.
"Just for tonight," I stated. He scoffed at my response.
"For a country girl… Clearly, you're not someone who is easy to please," he sputtered.
"I come from a family that combs the fields and baked in the sun. My morals are high and I have my devotional background just the same. So, why should I be easy?"
"I never said you should be," he quickly answered. I drank from my cup.
"I don't expect an inherit rich kid to understand. You get everything handed to you, you pass through life like time doesn't exist… as if everything revolves around you. Most of you don't understand what real work is, except to sit in your chair in a nice suit and reap the praises of others," the thoughts spill from my mouth.
"Are you sure you're supposed to be telling your boss this?" He looked at me intrigued.
"Is there something wrong with that… being, honest?" I squinted my eyes at him.
"No… the last time someone was this blunt with me… she quit," he stated. I pouted as I saw him grinning at the rim of his glass.
"Should I resign now… or do you always tease your workers?" I asked.
"No," he said quietly. "I meant no harm… I just like to know who's working for me, especially if they are so up close and personal." I garnished my eyes at him. "You can ask Flowers if you like. I know her favorite color to what she dislikes eating… and even who she's dating."
"Really?" I observed him stirring his cup.
"Why not? She has been my only staff member on my floor for ten years since I started working at my company," he stated.
"So long?" I whispered at the thought of it.
"Well, actually I learned the hard way," he said, stroking his forehead. "I didn't treat her well in the beginning. I didn't know her name for six months, didn't show her any sympathy at first, and didn't bear any gifts during the holidays. Yet she covered my ass and did my assignments." He seemed deep in thought.
"Maybe you're right. We rich kids really don't understand the meaning of hard work in the beginning and expect everything handed to us," he sipped his last round. "Sure enough I am still living with some regrets... I was a real ass when she quit."
I looked at him a bit shocked. Flowers who seemed cheerful and loyal. She seemed to worship the floor she worked on. Giving me direct instructions on what to do and not to do. Ensuring everything was in order, he must have really pissed her off.
"I find that hard to believe," I stated. He chuckled.
"It took me a week to get her back," he gestured a smile at me. "I was a spoiled rich kid in my early twenties. Wanted to attend parties and have fun with girls." I turned my face and rolled my eyes at the thought.
"Ever since that time, I and Flowers have been a team," he added. "Since your newest member, I am still trying to figure you out." Figure me out. I didn't need this close partnership. I was quite fine with subordination and the distance that came with it. However, I could understand his need not to be a jackal of a boss again as he did with Flowers.
"That's so wonderful, but I don't think you need to know about my relationships nor do I with yours, '' I fanned my hand at him.
"Relationships?" He said as he grabbed my hand, and I turned to look at him. He grabbed my left hand with his palm parallel to mine. My heart began racing as soon as he did this.
What was he doing? He looked at my fingers and he stroked them with his thumb. His light feather strokes sent my nerves haywire. I could clearly see his fingers where a ring was supposed to be. Obviously, there was none. None of this broke the tension until I heard a buzzing coming from his hips.
I pulled my hand quickly and not knowing if I should feel uncomfortable. It buzzed again, and I looked at him with my eyes stating he should probably take the call. He took out his phone and looked at it.
"Will you excuse me," he said and left.
I rubbed my fingers that held his hand, wondering what the hell just happened. For some reason, I felt disappointment swelling inside of me. Then the thought of his wife calling him, or maybe that woman from earlier. I immediately scooped the rest of the scotch in one gulp and got up.
I sat around the table lazing a deep burgundy color glass of red wine. Hearing Jada's and Jonathan's laughter. I had returned grimacing in my thoughts. I waggled my fingers on the rim of the glass. I didn't get the chance to call him his first name. Then again, why did he touch me?
"Soraya, are you alright?" Jada's voice broke my thoughts. I looked at their worried faces.
"Yea," I smiled as I sipped more out of my glass. Jada's eyes were like, 'yeah right'.
"Jonathan, let's call it a night," she whispered to him.
"No, don't…"
"Zip it… we are going home." She stopped me. "Anyways, you have work in the morning." I sighed and nodded. As they called for the host and called it a night.
******
(Mr. Marcelo Hayes's POV)
******
"So she's been sending funds to an offshore account," I spit into the phone quietly as I saw Soraya walk out. She didn't give me a chance for me to explain, I just observe her, as she tailgated out.
"Yes, sir. However, it seems as if she retracts the funds back in the same account days later as if she didn't take it in the first place."
"Interesting... Keep me posted," I abruptly cut off the call. As I calmly followed the path she took, to see if she had existed. Rather I found her in the middle of the dining room with two other participants. Smiling and talking as if a few moments ago didn't exist.
I browsed as I noticed Jonathan Terrell, known for trailing in his father's footsteps as he tried to take over the restaurant industry. He was hooked up on another girl, as she sitting around a table, a hanger-on perhaps. I looked at her knowingly, any normal woman would run into his arms, instead, she bolted right out of them.
I had been chatting to a brunette as she tried to keep my attention. She had been flaunting her affections. Cocking her head every so slightly, giving me her most gracious smile, and placing her hand very so gently on my shoulders. For a couple of moments, I thought maybe I should have fun tonight.
I had leaned in further to pursue the conversation, to whisper if she wanted to spend the night. Instead, I saw her, staring at me. Her eyes questioned me. She seemed out of place, seeing her standing in the hallway. She immediately scampered from my sight with a surprised expression as if I had caught onto her.
"I think I am tired," I eventually said to the woman in my arms. Recoiling from her as she looked at me as if I was mistaken. It took her a few seconds to understand I had become uninterested, as she cupped her glass and walked away.
I sat back thinking about her. Scarlet had questioned my judgment. She did in fact state I should just hire her and pretty much throw her anywhere in the company, but I had decided to keep her close. I liked her wittiness, and blunt outlook on things. I couldn't also deny the fact she had been helping me with those reports.
Now I had become suspicious of her, seeing her here. I thought she didn't have any connections. A simple girl who perhaps watched PG-13, was proud of where she came from, and had lucid dreams of finally being in the city.
I put my phone to my ears as I quietly exited the building.
"I'm leaving… but get me everything you know about Soraya Harrison. I want to know everything about her. Oh… with utmost importance."