Most Ardently | Pedro Pascal

four

Pedro and I hadn't spoken since that PR meeting. I knew I set myself up poorly with my snide behavior that day, but I'm not sure I would honestly change anything given the chance. I couldn't see any benefits coming out of my being docile other than avoiding conflict, and I was not one to roll over so easily.

When I got an email with details of our first 'relationship' outing, though, I remained entirely silent. The date, time, location, and styling instructions were all listed clearly with no room for amendments.

We arrived at the restaurant together- Pedro in the driver's seat beside me. He picked me up at my house on the other side of town, which surprised me. I don't know why I assumed someone else would drive us. It made the whole thing feel much more real, even though we barely spoke three words between us during the entire ride.

I had been looking out the passenger window the last few minutes, scouring the sidewalks for the scheduled paparazzi when I finally saw him on the street corner. I straightened my posture and smoothed my palms down my jean-clad thighs. Pedro must have noticed him too, as he suddenly sighed and gripped the steering wheel tighter.

As soon as he pulled the car into a parking spot on the front curb, my heart started racing, and I tried to recall every acting experience I had to regain my composure and step into the role that management assigned me. I ran my fingers through my hair one last time as Pedro hopped out of the car swiftly and took long strides until he reached the outside of my door and pulled it open. I smiled at his chivalry, even if it was all for show. Pedro cast another glance toward the glaringly obvious paparazzi behind us before placing his hand gently on my lower back to guide me in front of him.

We stepped into the quaint restaurant and were instantly greeted by the hostess. She asked if it was just the two of us even after picking up only two menus and exiting her post at the host stand, as if she had been expecting us all morning. She probably had. We followed her to an empty table in the front corner of the dining area. It was filled with natural lights and vines of what looked like large and healthy philodendrons twisted across the ceiling forming a green canopy above us. I always wanted my apartment to look this lush, but my natural light could never support it. The hostess informed us our waiter, Johnny, would be with us shortly before she walked back to the host stand, long ponytail swaying behind her.

It was then that Pedro finally looked at me. "Didn't know there was gonna be huge fucking windows around the whole place," he muttered, barely breaking his practiced smile.

"You really think they'd let us off that easy?" I matched his posture and leaned closer to him for good measure, resting my elbows on the table.

Sure enough, Johnny arrived almost immediately. He was tall and on the slender side, but I could tell from the way his button up stretched over his shoulders that he was all muscle. His dark hair was tied in a messy knot at the base of his skull, which suited him surprisingly well. I liked to believe that I'm on the more subtle side when I check someone out, but Johnny did not match that. His gray eyes were practically glued to my chest, and he had to clear his throat twice before asking us what we would like to drink. If I weren't with Pedro, I would've teased him about it, but I didn't. Pedro ordered a local IPA. I got a lemonade.

Pedro scoffed when Johnny left, and shook his head. I could tell he noticed the exchange between us, but instead of mentioning it, he asked, "You been here before?"

"No," I hummed, flicking my gaze out the window where a man sat on a bench with a large camera poised in front of his face, "but the green goddess salad looks good." I pointed it out on Pedro's menu, making sure the neckline of my tank top was slouching, but not too much.

Pedro shook his head again, his fingers twitching on top of the table in front of him.

"What?" I asked playfully.