Tell Me Your Fears

Chapter 2: Robyn

The young guard cleared his throat, flustered at the sight of me closing the bathroom door just in time before he could hear his boss thrashing about in the room.

"Uh, g-good evening, Madam Celia," he stammers, seeming nervous for his second day.

I feign a laugh. "Please drop the title, I insist. It makes me sound like an old lady." The young man blushed, letting out a nervous chuckle. Either I'd be flattered that I have such an effect on him, or relieved that his nervousness is working to my advantage. So far, I'm leaning on the latter.

"Do you know where my boss went? The other guards said he came by here."

I bat my eyelash seductively, looking back to the door of the bathroom right before wiping my thumb on the corner of my lips for any stray lipstick. "He'll be ready in a minute."

The young guard blushes and looks away, believing my insinuation. It wasn't far fetched for men like Peralta to fool around in public places at uncanny times.

I begin to stride away the same time the young man took the place I vacated to stand guard in case anyone planned to use the occupied room. Little did he know what he was actually doing. Judging from the growing tension in the dining hall, it wouldn't take long before they really start looking for him. Which means I have to get out of here fast. I'm lucky enough as it is that Anka's not the guard I met with. My bluff would have been caught by the throat if he was.

I was hastily rushing through my strides as I made the last turn of the hallway that I walk into a hard wall.

Before I could hit the ground, a hand circled around my waist to stop my fall.

The wall cussed as a splash of his champagne spilled into his Armani suit that fitted him perfectly enough to be labelled as their spring model.

With him being so close, the only thing I can breathe in his fragrance. His mouth is inches from mine, his lips slightly parting—

Goddamn it. Stop ogling his lips.

"Shit, I'm so sorry."

If he was annoyed, he doesn't show it. "Fault is all mine."

He regarded me with such deep intensity that I wasn't sure if he was looking into my soul, or trying to figure me out. Nevertheless, he doesn't offer a friendly smile nor a hostile glare. And it's unnerving. "Why are you in such a rush?"

I look back to the adjacent hallway I emerged from and breathe a silent sigh of relief that no one was hot on my tail. Not yet.

I threw my hair back and gave him a flirty grin, sizing him from head to toe. "Who said I was in a rush?"

He backs away from me just a step enough to regard me the same way I did him. The neutral expression still intact. He doesn't look much older than me, definitely younger than half of the people present. "Your brazen sprint that blinded you to see that we both have the hallway to ourselves."

I inwardly cringe. I wouldn't have ran into him if I had the presence of mind.

"If I'm not mistaken," his gaze flits behind me before throwing an accusing look my way, "you look like you're running away from someone."

I don't give up my act and trace an index finger down the length of his ironed tie. "Maybe I purposely planned to bump into you. With such a handsome face and all."

He snorts, not the least fazed by my act. "I don't know if I should be offended that your half-wit brain thinks that I'd fall for that."

Half-wit?