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She is bothered by his attention. She wants him to look away for a minute. He must have said something she considers inappropriate to be said in public because her eyes darts around and her lips hang open.
The cat is rubbing its furs on her legs. Her long athletic looking legs.
Zero hair.
Thin at the ankles.
An average sized foot, and I am guessing there is no nail polish on the nails.
Perfect.
She is perfect. Even if I object to the new hairdo, she is still very much perfect for me. When the man finally pecks her on the cheek, I know it’s time to go because he has disappeared into the building, and the cat has run in with him while my Emily is standing all alone, checking for an important item that must be lodged in her purse. She releases another sigh, straightens her dress and walks into the sunlight.
I watch her for another minute as she disappeared down the road, heading to a restaurant where she is supposed to attend an interview for a new job.
I knew she would walk the distance even with the sun high up in the sky. I wonder if she has sunscreen or dark shades somewhere in her bag.
She doesn't strike me as the kind of woman to wear dark shades though. I have been watching her for quite some time, but now I have to fucking leave before this stalking shit becomes addictive.
I roar the engine to life and turn on the stereo, then I zoom past her with reckless speed. Looking through the side mirror, I know she is watching my car with a scowl.
Emily
The restaurant is quite busy when I step in. The bell rings, and I notice eyes stray my way.
It's like a hive mind in here. It is strange and suspicious.
I glance at the address in my palm once again and look up at the name rolling around the screen in neon lights at a display board.
Yep, I am at the right place.
Maybe I should have had a quick smoke before coming down here. My confidence is faltering just with their heavy stares, but I didn't need to worry further because the moment I take a seat and another customer walks in, they shove their attention to him.
I can understand why my employer has chosen this place. There is an air of luxury in the restaurant.
I bend my head to the breakfast menu, distracting myself from being intimidated by the expensive air around me. Usually, I work in the kitchen, never have I had the chance to take a seat as a guest in a restaurant like this. The closest Mike and I had ever come was when we visited a coffee shop to get a sandwich. We didn't even sit down for more than 30 minutes and we made our way into the street, dancing under the rain while he…
"Would you like to place an order, miss?" A waitress is looking down at me, distracting me from thinking about Mike. She is beautiful and prim.
I realize that I have been holding the menu for far too long without reading the words on it. I set the maroon-colored card on the table and smile at her. "I'll just have water. I am expecting someone."
A glass of water won't hurt. I can afford that. Paul handed over his credit card to me.
I wonder why he trusts me with it.
I could run off, but there wouldn't be much money in there anyway, not enough to even last me for a week.
The waitress is cross eyed as she says, "Alright, ma'am."
I don't like her,I decide.The Mano had better service, a better menu, and a better table setting.
God, I can't do this here—breakdown—I can't.
I shake my head and straighten my shoulders.
Time ticks fast. 30 minutes. 50. An hour. An hour and 30 minutes. People come and go.
The waitress behind the counter still has her eyes on me.
