Page 29 of Framed Obsession

I bring the chilled glass to my lips and the hairs on my body rise at the strength of the whisky. I let out a long, open mouth exhale after taking the sip. I’m sure they made it double, assuming the mood I’m in, and I’m not necessarily mad at it.

I peer upward and notice terror written on my Little Flower’s face. My attention only strayed for a moment. Who knew so much could happen? I watch cautiously, waiting to see how the conversation pans out.

The tapping coming from my fingers quickens, becoming a constant rhythm. I set my whiskey-filled glass down roughly. The brown liquid spills over the brim and the sound catches the attention of the surrounding tables. Including my girl’s.

I feel eyes from all over looking in my direction, giving me judgmental looks. It doesn't bother me one bit. The distraction was intended for one person, and one person only. A set of radiant, honey-colored eyes roam around until they meet mine.

As if in an unspoken agreement, she and the world come to a standstill together. A perplexed look overcomes her expression, trying to make out who I am. I take it as my sign, and I stand, walking toward her. She doesn’t take her eyes off me for one second as I approach, towering over their presence.

“Fancy seeing you here,” I say, tipping my imaginary top hat on my head and bowing. My attention is solely on her. I couldn’t stand seeing the horrified look that came over her. It practically suffocated me.

The perfect girl with icy hair stares at me with her jaw wide open, not expecting the sudden intrusion. I pat her overbearing boss on the shoulder, making him lean forward slightly at the shove. He and I both know the force was intentional.

“You’re not giving the girl a hard time, are you?” I imply, knowing his intentions without blatantly saying it. He cocks his head and gives me an antagonized look. I know his type. Cocky, entitled as if he has the right to everything that comes across him.

“I don’t think it's polite of you to interrupt our dinner. Did you need something?” he questions, but it's more of a statement for me to leave. I turn around, pretending to give him what he wants. I can feel the smirk of victory on his face from behind me, and I want to beat it off of him.

I see a woman eating alone at the next table over, so I grab the empty chair that accompanies her, whipping it around to their table. I take a seat, joining in on their dinner.

The rubbing of the wood on the tile makes a loud scraping sound, bringing even more attention to our direction. If looks could kill, Parker would be on fire. I clear my throat with a smile, pushing down the laugh that is clawing to escape.

“I don’t know… three is a party, right?” I respond to his question. His forehead crinkles in confusion at the reply. I thought he was supposed to be smart? I stare at him and sigh.

“You asked if I needed something. I think ‌you’re the one in need. So, why not make it a party?” I question back, returning the same smart-ass tone. Dahlia sits there, frozen in place, not knowing what to do. I give her a playful wink, causing her to sink into her chair, bashfully.

“You’re bringing the mood down in here,” I follow up. Parker stands dumbfounded at my audacity. He looms over me, peering down as if I’m below him. The linen napkin falls from his lap, sprawling out on the tiled floor.

“You need to leave. You are not welcome here. What are you even doing here? Are you stalking us?”

I give a wide-toothed grin. I mean, yes. Yes, I am stalking, but only my Little Flower. I couldn’t give two shits about him. I stay planted in the seat, not impacted by the dominance he is trying to exuberate.

My neck pops as It stretches, cranking my head to make eye contact with him. I’ve never needed to look up. I’m usually the one having to look down. This is fun. Dahlia shifts around uncomfortably, but stays quiet.

I can show her how to be thankful later. She and I both know I’m saving her.

“I was having dinner, just like you, until I saw Ms. Rosen. I wanted to come show my appreciation for today's session. You don’t mind now, do you?”

I turn over to her, including her in the one-sided, heated conversation. She looks at me, then at him. Her mouth opens, her bottom lip twitching. I watch as the words fight their way out.

“I–I think I should go…” she says.

“We haven’t eaten yet,” Parker appeals. His efforts are dismissed as my girl places her napkin on the table and stands. A wave of relief, ever so subtly, washes over her. I’m sure the pig in front of her missed it, but I didn’t.

“If the girl wants to go… let her go,” I say, pushing my chair out, joining them in stance. Red blotches prickle up his neck, creeping onto his pale face in aggravation. I take a step backward, not wanting to catch the splatter if his head explodes.

“You don’t even belong in this conversation. Who are you to tell me what to do?”

He sizes me up, even though he is five inches shorter than me. I’m not fazed one bit. I actually think it's quite amusing. He’s making an ass ‌of himself. Not only in front of Dahlia, but in front of the folks around him trying to have dinner.

Quiet whispers tickle my ears from the surrounding tables. I see a man dressed in black, appearing closer and closer. I wave my hands in surrender, putting on my charm to convince my Little Flower and the rest of the restaurant that I’m not the bad guy.

“Calm down there, tiger. Let’s not make a scene in front of these classy people now. They’re trying to enjoy their dinner.” I say. The condescending tone ignites the flame within him. His now pink skin turns scarlet. His head bobs in shock, peering around us and noticing the judgmental looks and whispers he is receiving.

“Is there a problem?” the man in the suit asks eagerly. It’s the same man from the front. His eyes move side to side in question at Parker and me. The look on his face telling that we need to leave, and I am more than happy to.

“N–no. We were just leaving,” my Little Flower speaks up. She walks past the rows of dinner tables, making her way toward the entrance of the hotel. I pull out my wallet and throw a handful of cash onto the table, knowing it’s more than enough to cover my bill and theirs. I nod at the host, assuring him we are making our way out.

Parker storms out, trying to keep pace with my girl. I follow closely behind. I don’t trust him. Especially now that he’s pissed off. Who knows what he will do. And I am here to ensure no one harms my Little Flower.