This man is something else.
I turn around with a smile, and enter the café.
Ivy will be dying to know what we talked about.
The door jingles shut behind me.
Suddenly, everything before me goes black for a second. My hands tremble as they hunt for some support.
“Vi!” I hear Ivy’s voice coming from far off. “What’s happening?”
As she leads me to a chair, the darkness before my eyes slowly dissolves, and I start to get a hang of my surroundings. Ivy hands me a glass of water, and after taking two sips, I place it down.
Her worried gaze bores into me, and I whisper with a shaky voice, “I’m okay. I just got dizzy. I think it’s that hunk’s effect.”
Her face remains serious for another beat before a teeny-tiny smile pulls on her lips.
Ivy gives me another worried look, and only when I smile does she weakly head toward the two women who just walked inside the café.
Once alone, raw fear engulfs me. My palms sweat as I hide them under the table.
What the hell is happening to me?
* * *
Zane: I’m outside.
I fix the silk scarf around my neck before giving myself a good look. My lavender pullover, which everyone says makes my eyes pop, looks pretty over black jeans studded with stars and knee-high leather boots.
I check Tassels’ food and water bowl. At this very moment, my Maltese dog is focused on the TV, watching an ancient rerun of Scooby-Doo.
Who would have thought a dog would love watching an animated dog?
But I guess if someday Tassels can learn to speak, it sure will be super interesting.
I snicker at the insane thought before kissing him on his forehead, but this grump whines like a kid who doesn’t want to be disturbed in the middle of his video game.
“Mommy’s got a date with your fake daddy. You be a good boy.”
After petting him once more, which he of course doesn’t appreciate, I run down the stairs of my apartment complex.
My pulse skitters when Zane straightens from where he’s leaning against his car. I’ve certainly developed a tiny crush on him just by looking at him over these three months. Unlike his usual garb, he isn’t wearing a tie above his black shirt. Guess that’s what speaks casual to him.
“Hi.” I give him a small wave, trying and failing to keep my skyrocketing heartbeat in check.
Zane takes a step away from his Bugatti. I don’t know much about cars, but thankfully this one has the name clearly written in red and white.
His lips quirk up, and today in the open, beyond the confined walls of the café, his smile is irresistible. He opens the passenger door for me, and the smile stays in place, speaking on his behalf more than he does.
Zane circles the car and slides in expertly. Last time when I was in his car, the day he saved me like a knight in shining armor, I paid partial attention to him and his ways. But today I notice everything. How his expert fingers enter the address into the GPS before he shifts gears, and more importantly, how he hasn’t spoken a word to me yet.
After fixing the rearview mirror, he grabs the mint tin from the console and throws one into his mouth. When he offers me the box, I shake my head, and now the smile on his face is a bit hesitant.
“How ar-re you?”
“Good,” I reply quickly.
I’m definitely suffering from some sort of illness. This past week, I’ve had several bouts of dizziness. I need to add more greens into my diet. The parsley leaves or pesto sauce isn’t enough anymore. Also, dinners of cake and coffee might not be ideal five days a week. I’m mentally making the list of beans, salads, fruit juices, and multivitamin tablets I need to buy, when Zane clears his throat.