Chapter5
There was a stillness in the air as soon as they were done with their morning excursion. Consciously, Aliya straightened out her clothes. Her panties were stretched, but still she put them on. Quickly buttoning her blouse, she turned her back on James as he stood, his palms resting on the counter.
She could feel his gaze on her, and it made her uncomfortable. Was he gloating that he had bedded—no, countered—yes, the word was silly, countered her? She took a deep breath, reality finally hitting her in the face. She had slept with someone she had only met two days ago; it felt liberating, and yet, it made her feel awkward.
“Are you ready?” he asked her.
Ready for what again? she wondered. Oh right, ready to be brought to work. At least she wasn’t doing the walk of shame. She was being brought to work, in an expensive car no doubt. “Could you just drop me off at the bus stop?” she asked, not looking at him.
“Why?” His tone was teasing.
“I’m not comfortable with the whole thing,” she told him.
“You screamed out earlier. What makes you uncomfy now?” he asked her, walking up to her.
His sweatpants still hung precariously on his hips, and she could imagine his—she shook her head. “You’re not obligated to.”
“Well, I’d like to. How does that sound?” James said.
She said nothing.
“You think we should be dating before I’m entitled to that task?” he continued. “I brought you here, an hour away from your home. It’s only right I take you back. It satisfies my ego.”
“I don’t like your ego.”
“If we do this more often, you’re going to have to get used to it.”
“What makes you think we will?”
“You pretty much enjoyed yourself when I was inside you,” he said with a wink.
She bit her lower lip, hating herself for allowing that to happen.
“Besides,” he continued, “I enjoyed myself too. So, we’re both agreeing on that part. I’d like to see you for lunch tomorrow.”
It wasn’t a request. He was demanding it. She wasn’t having any more of his ego for today. He had filled her up with it already, literally and figuratively. “I’ll be busy.”
“That is not an excuse.”
“So, work is no longer an excuse? As well as school?”
He nodded. “You make time for important things.”
“What in the hell makes you think you’re so important?” Aliya told him, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Sweetheart, everything about me is important,” he said nonchalantly. “If I wasn’t, real estate in Florida and the rest of the country would look like crap, and rent would go through the roof.”
“You are not the American economy,” she said through gritted teeth.
He gave a short laugh, one that was filled with sarcasm. “What makes you think I’m not?”
Aliya stopped, not knowing if he was kidding or not. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. Whatever it was, she wanted to get away from him fast. He walked to the laundry room, grabbing a shirt.
“Shall we?” he told her, looking at her intently after he had put on sneakers. He enjoyed looking at her, enjoyed giving her discomfort, and he enjoyed seeing her smile. It was a strange combination, was it not? Maybe his masochism was seeping through the walls he had built, again. It always happened with girls he had begun to fancy.
She silently followed him to his garage, walking down a sunny hallway filled with potted plants and paintings. Opening a door, he switched on the lights, and her eyes nearly popped out, seeing all the cars lined up.
He walked over to a wooden key rack, his fingers skimming over the car keys. She only saw five cars inside the garage, but there were more keys hanging.
“The rest are outside,” he told her, as if knowing what she was thinking about.
Still, she didn’t say anything as he finally picked a key. She had never owned a car her entire life, but had learned to drive using their old family SUV. He had picked a vintage-looking car, Ferrari by the looks of it, she thought, not knowing much about cars. It was a convertible with tan leather seats and just enough room for two people.
“Get in,” he told her, slipping into the driver’s side. He pressed a button, the garage doors opened, and the lights flickered out. Hesitantly, she got in. The car was too flashy, but she had requested to be dropped off far from her workplace anyway.
She saw the rest of his cars outside, three more cars that looked less flashy, but nonetheless expensive. Now, why didn’t they take one of those?
“It’s a fine Sunday morning,” he told her. “Better to soak in the atmosphere, don’t you think?” he told her as they exited his house—well, house was an understatement. It was a palatial home, and she could hear the waves gently hitting the shoreline. She hadn’t even seen that view yet. She felt disappointed, wanting to see the ocean from a sunrise perspective.
Aliya looked at large houses that lined the street. He really lived here? Alone? She couldn’t help but feel that thousands of square feet had gone to waste in his solitary life. Was it really lonely at the top? She wanted to ask him if he lived with a cat, at least.
“We missed the bus stop,” she spoke up, her gaze drifting back to the sign.
“I said I’d take you back to work,” he told her, his eyes fixed on the road.
Aliya saw the traffic that had begun to build up after they had left that idyllic paradise. They were that far away from Miami.
Palm Beach—that was where they were. An hour away from work, an hour away from her own apartment. She desperately wanted to hole up in her room, wanting some alone time to make sense of what had happened.
Their ride was quiet, with soft rock music playing from his speakers. It was barely audible against the din of traffic and people. She heard a few comments on James’ car every time they stopped at an intersection, and she wanted to shrink in her seat, unwilling to let anyone recognize her. Who else from university could be around this area at ten in the morning?
“You don’t like the car?” he asked her. “You’re squirming so much in your seat. Or are you having some kind of stomach upset?”
She took a deep breath, pursing her lips for a moment. “No, it’s just that—”
“Someone might see you, and ask a ton of questions you don’t wanna answer?”
“Yes, that.”
“Well, tell them I’m someone you met in a bar.”
“We met on the street.”
“A boring story or a pumped up one, your pick.”
“Boring one,” she immediately said.
“Because you’re too embarrassed by the fact that—”
“I don’t need to hear about what we did earlier,” Aliya said, annoyed. Did he have to rub it in? He was gloating like a child who had bought out the entire store’s supply of chocolate.
“Because you didn’t enjoy it?”
She felt herself redden. But she had. She’d enjoyed it terribly. “It was wrong.”
“What was so wrong about two consenting young adults enjoying carnal pleasures?”
It took her a few seconds to process what he said. She was in no condition for mind games, certainly not when she was restless, pressed for time and filled with embarrassment. “Look, we just met.”
“Two days ago,” he reminded her.
“Two days ago isn’t a year ago. I don’t know much about you.”
“What else is there to know?” he asked her. “You’ve already seen where I live.”
“And yet, no one was there,” Aliya said. “You live alone in a house that can fit my entire family, and it’ll still have room for a zoo.”
“I’ve always wanted a zoo,” he mused as he made a right turn. “I live alone, because I prefer living alone. I live alone because I was their only son.”
“And your girlfriend?” she asked, looking away, her ears getting hot, knowing she was stepping out of bounds. She had no right to ask.
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said calmly. “Too much drama.”
“So, you just sleep around?”
“Only with ladies I’m inclined to sleep with,” James replied calmly.
“Excuse me?”
“I only have sex with women I like,” he said slowly, as if talking to a grade schooler. “Is that too hard to understand?”
“So, I’m number what this week?”
He smiled, putting on his shades (designer, no doubt). “I don’t keep count. But don’t worry, I’m not a man-whore, or whatever term it is they use. I can’t be a gigolo—I don’t need the money.”
She wanted to get out of the car, wanted to disappear from sight, regretting the moment she said yes for a thirty-minute lunch slash random conversation time.
“So, that’s why you wanted to give me $1000?” she said, unable to believe what she had heard. He was a jerk, he was a bastard—yes, that was what he was: a bastard. “It was your entry point to sleep with me?”
“I didn’t plan that part out, trust me,” he told her. He didn’t have any regrets though. She was kinky underneath that boring uniform, plus she was fun to talk to in her own ‘common’ way. “I’ll say this one last time: I gave that $1000 freely because time is money, and talking to people costs something. You could have lowered your pride; you could have taken the money. God knows, you might need it.”
She did, but her ego stopped her from doing so. No, she still had a job; she was fine with her finances. “What makes you think I need it?”
He shrugged. “I made an observation. You’re on a scholarship; you’re working even if you’re attending college. Doesn’t that speak for something?”
“You talk like you know me.”
“I make observations.”
“You people watch,” she corrected him. “You went to Princeton only to learn how to people watch.”
He laughed aloud. “So, you went exploring before coming to the kitchen? What else did you see?”
“Trophies, medals,” she replied, hating herself for falling into that trap.
“I won all that to people watch,” he said, sighing. “Not quite what you imagined? I’d be disappointing my alma mater, too. I suppose being an achiever does that to you, doesn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“You’re on a full scholarship,” he said. “That should mean something.”
“I was lucky.”
“You studied like hell for it,” he told her, all-knowingly. “And you’re not an idiot.”
“Why are we talking about collegiate achievements again?”
“Because you wanted to know more about me. You want to criticize me and judge me, the way I do to you.”
“I want it to stop.”
“Why?”
“Because it isn’t healthy,” she mumbled. Oh god, when was this conversation going to end? She was still so far from work. She could ask to be dropped off somewhere, but she knew he was going to deny her that request. CEO ego was a pain in the ass. There’s a first time for everything, she reminded herself.
“Like every relationship there is,” he muttered. “The only healthy I get is from food. So,” he said, changing his tone into a playful one, “lunch tomorrow is a yes.”
“I’m dating someone.”
He scoffed at her. “Come now, and you’d be that kind of person to cheat on a partner?” She was terrible at lying.
Aliya knew she was a bad liar; it was something she had never gotten the knack for. In a way, she was a goody-goody kid, and she was still a goody-goody person at the age of 23. “So? What if I want to?”
“You don’t sleep with anyone else but me. Not while we have lunches.”
You mean ‘not while we sleep with each other,’ she thought angrily. “You think it’s so easy to tell people to do what you want? Who to sleep with? Who to have lunch with? You’re talkin’ to the wrong lady, asshole. Stop the car,” she told him. “I said, stop the car.”
He kept going. “We’re barely inside Miami,” he said, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “You are staying in that seat until we arrive at your workplace.”
“I said stop the car.”
He said nothing as he continued.
“The hell—did you hear me? I said—”
“I told you that you’re staying in your seat.” His voice was dangerously low, and it made her stop talking. It was a voice he had reserved for when he was about to lose his cool. He never threw tantrums, barely raised his voice. She wouldn’t be an exception at all, no matter how attracted he was to her. “Don’t be an idiot.”
She swallowed some saliva, suddenly feeling powerless. This wasn’t how she rolled; this wasn’t how she dated people. This wasn’t even dating for Pete’s sake! This was a pathetic way to ask someone out on a date. “Please, stop the car.” Her voice sounded meek, pleading. It was the best she could do. “I’m nearly there. Please.”
So, she said please. He sighed and pulled over to a curb. “Where is that café again?”
“Just a block away. The road’s one way, so I can walk from here,” she told him.
He nodded, taking off his shades as she opened the passenger’s side door. She was lying to him, he knew. She just didn’t want to be dropped off at the exact location. The road was indeed one way, but he could have owned the road if he wanted to. “I will see you tomorrow. Make sure you have at least 45 minutes to spare after 12 noon.”
“You don’t even have my number.”
“I got it from you last night. I was looking for the numbers of your roommates, then I figured you lived alone.”
“You went through my stuff?” She looked aghast.
“I’m just making sure I’m not dating a psycho.”
“You’d have seen that coming from a mile away,” she told him, shaking her head.
“I always like to be sure,” he said. “That’s why my company’s better than ever.”
That’s why no woman can stand to be with you for too long, she thought. Aliya nodded, too fed up to say anything else. He was getting on her nerves. If only she had the same effect on him. “Thank you,” she said stiffly, holding onto her purse.
He nodded. “You’re welcome.”
She watched him drive away, intent on blocking his calls and texts.
*
She felt like she was on autopilot at work. The day went by without a hitch, and she wished there was more action to it, like her early morning romp with—she shook her head, hating herself for thinking about him. Every time a guy passed by, a guy with similar colored hair, a guy wearing a suit… she thought about James. Didn’t she just block him immediately as soon as she was in the changing room? Already, she was having second thoughts. She needed a good distraction; studies would do the trick. Or perhaps she could—
“Here he is again,” Robert muttered.
“Who is?” she said, momentarily sidetracked from thinking about James.
“Mister Dreamboat,” Robert scoffed.
Dreamboat? She looked up to see a rather handsome fellow wearing a casual suit. He had sneakers on, and had a bright smile, a complete opposite to James… “Who is he?”
“Not you too,” Robert groaned. “There’s a reason why this café’s been filling up with women. Since last week, my opening shift’s been inundated with women trying to ask him out, or discreetly taking photos of him and failing.”
“I just asked who he was,” Aliya grinned, looking at the café manager, Sandra, ogling at a man at least ten years younger than her.
“He says his name’s Mark.”
“Just Mark?”
“Jesus,” Robert said, exasperated, “I don’t know what his family name is. Do we even put that on our cups for takeout? I swear, it’s people like him that make me lose my chances of getting a girlfriend.”
“He knows he’s good-looking,” Aliya commented, watching him ease his way into the café with confidence.
“And I know I’m broke,” Robert said, making an espresso. “Please don’t turn into one of the horde. Don’t you want basketball players or football players?”
“That is just plain stereotyping,” she told him with a laugh. She saw the customer walk to the counter. “Are you getting that, Sandra?” she teased her superior.
Sandra shook her head. “I don’t think I can manage well with his order,” she whispered. “You do it.”
Aliya nodded and walked behind the register, greeting the customer with a smile. “Welcome to Sunshine State Café, what can I get for you?”
He smiled at her, and she couldn’t help but giggle internally at his pleasant smile. At least he was far more pleasant compared to the person she had awoken next to earlier… she forced herself to concentrate. Sure, he was handsome, but she didn’t feel an instant connection to him; he wasn’t as magnetic as James was… she shook her head and smiled. “Sorry, what was your order?”
“I guess you aren’t as awake as I thought you’d be,” he told her, repeating his order, requesting that milk be replaced with soy milk instead.
“Sorry, I had a really rough morning,” she said smoothly.
“I’ve had a rough week too,” he said sheepishly. “You won’t believe what some people can say and do to you.”
Tell me about it, Aliya thought wryly, ringing up his order. She saw Robert’s face, a mixture of mild disgust and amusement. She was not flirting shamelessly. It was just small talk, and it didn’t hurt that he was a damn fine specimen, too.
“What’s your name?” he asked her, paying for his order with cash.
“Aliya,” she replied.
“Aren’t you too pretty to be working here?” he teased her a little.
“Trust me, if I was meant to do modeling, I wouldn’t be here at all,” she replied with a laugh. Her mood had considerably lightened, thanks to the charming customer. He picked up his order at the opposite end, raised his cup of coffee toward her, and then he spun around and left. Just like that.
Aliya heard a few female customers groan, mentioning how it was all ‘too fast.’ She couldn’t help but smile. She saw Robert’s disapproving face. “What?”
“He likes you,” Robert told her, his face scrunching up.
“Oh, come on,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He just met me.”
“Ever heard of love at first sight?” Robert teased her.
Love at first sight was reserved for fools, she thought, remembering how she used to have a huge crush on her ex-boyfriend. She knew that she wasn’t too bad-looking, but she wasn’t that gorgeous to be even remembered by James. Why did he? She was interesting, he had said. Why? Did he lack for female conversations that weren’t related to work?
James would never lack for potential dates and partners; he was good-looking in a rugged way, and he was well-spoken. He was the ideal CEO, from what she could size up. Egoistic with the ability to be charming, sadistic without being obvious; manipulative as well—her father had once said that CEOs and presidents were highly likely to end up as psychopaths, great at their careers but questionable with how they treated people. He fit the bill, and she didn’t want to have another lunch session just to prove her theory.