Secret Stalker

CHAPTER :7:

©Copyright 2015 Marygold Mariam. All Rights Reserved.

♤Chapter Seven♤

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Eleonora's regretful and deeply humiliated look fixated on Lyndon. She couldn't believe she didn't pick up the signs. Now that she though of it, it was kind of obvious.

"Lyndon I..." she felt incapable of finishing that sentence.

Lyndon rescued her from further embarrassment. "Don't feel like you need to apologize Eleonora. I'm not going to fault you for being curios."

"I'll do it any way. I'm sorry. It must be hard for you and Olly." Eleonora felt like she was on the brink of tears.

"Oliver's fine. He doesn't remember them." Lyndon informed her.

"Oh no. I'm not going to ask any more questions." Eleonora announced, crossing her arms and sitting down.

"It's alright. Mother died when Oliver was born. Father followed her about a year later. I took over the company at eighteen." Lyndon told having a distant yet wounded look on his face.

Eleonora was truly at the loss of words. She knew that no amount of her words could heal Lyndon's wounds and she felt bad about that. For some reason, seeing him in pain triggered pain in her too.

"You know. If you ever need someone to take care of Olly when you're busy, you can always come to me." Eleonora reassured him.

Lyndon looked at her gratefully. As a mutual silent agreement, they avoided personal topics and conversed about much lighter ones.

The waitress from before came back. "Mr. Halle, is there anything you need?" She inquired with a sickly sweet voice.

Lyndon shook his head. "Just the bill please."

The waitress hurried away and came back with the bill. Eleonora was opening her purse when Lyndon stopped her.

"You aren't doing what I think your doing are you?" Lyndon asked.

Eleonora looked at him in question. "I'm looking for my purse."

Lyndon scoffed. "Miss Lawson, please spare my masculine pride. Do you think I would let you pay? Please place you're purse back inside that bag of yours."

Eleonora looked at him in amazement as he whirled out some money and put it in the bill holder.

Soon, they were walking towards Lyndon's car. It was almost 8 meaning they had stayed in the restaurant longer that Eleonora had thought.

She turned when she heard Lyndon chuckle.

"Did you twist your hand all around your head to do this hair style because if you did, you are a pro with endless patience." Lyndon commented getting into the car.

Eleonora snickered. "I wish. It was my friends Layla who did this. She made me sit for ages and I do not have any patience, mind you, so my vocabulary of speech at that time mainly consisted of death threats."

Lyndon studied her hair. "She's good. It's beautiful. Does she work at a hair salon."

Blushing at the compliment and thankful for the shielding darkness, Eleonora answered his question. "No, actually works at your company."

Lyndon frowned. "What's her name again?"

"Layla. Layla Chang."

Lyndon scratched his chin. "That does sound vaguely familiar."