Brief Encounters

Part 10

The narrow street was quiet, the hum of neon signs flickering overhead the only sound breaking the stillness. Jeanna walked beside me, her laughter light against the cool air of the evening. It was one of those nights where everything seemed in place-everything except the subtle sense of discomfort settling in my chest. It was a feeling I couldn't fully name, not yet. Like an itch on the back of my mind, something just out of reach.

I tried to ignore it. After all, I was no stranger to being watched. The press, the cameras-they were part of my life, ever-present shadows. Since my mother passed, it had only grown worse, the glare of public scrutiny intensifying, fueled by rumors and expectations about my future, about my duty to marry. But tonight wasn't supposed to be about that. Tonight was supposed to be about Jeanna.

"What's on your mind?" Jeanna's voice pulled me out of my thoughts, her eyes twinkling as she looked up at me. Her smile-playful, warm-made it hard to hold on to anything else.

I hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Just... wondering if I'm walking straight into a trap," I teased, raising an eyebrow. "A secret restaurant? Sounds like the perfect setup for my kidnapping. All masterminded by you, of course."

She rolled her eyes, her laughter ringing out, full of warmth. "Oh, please. If I wanted to kidnap you, you'd never see it coming." Her grin was sly, a challenge, and for a moment, it made everything else seem distant.

"Maybe," I said, leaning in slightly, "but I might let you get away with it."

Her gaze, sparkling beneath the streetlights, made me forget the faint feeling of being observed that had settled into my bones.

We stopped in front of an unmarked door wedged between two busy shops, the kind of place that could easily be overlooked. Jeanna nudged it open, revealing a dimly lit restaurant hidden from the usual hustle. Soft jazz filled the space, mingling with the rich smell of spices in the air.

"Welcome to my secret spot," she said, her voice light with pride. "No paparazzi. Just good food."

I exhaled, feeling a weight I hadn't realized I was carrying lift off my shoulders. "A hidden gem, indeed," I smiled. "I see why you love it here."

Jeanna beamed, and we slipped into a secluded booth. Almost immediately, a waiter named Steve appeared, giving her a knowing grin. "Well, well, bringing in some fresh company tonight?" he teased.

Jeanna laughed, playfully glaring at him. "You know me, Steve. Always full of surprises."

Steve chuckled, then winked at me. "I'll grab you two the chef's special. Trust me, it's a game-changer."

As he left, I glanced at Jeanna, who was watching me closely, her expression softening a little. "I've only ever brought Paul here," she said, almost like a confession. "It's kind of a personal spot for me."

I raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at my lips. "Should I be flattered then? Or concerned you're breaking tradition?"

She laughed, the sound light and comforting. "Maybe both." But even as she teased, there was something more in her voice, something that sent a flutter through me.

We settled into easy conversation, wine flowing freely, but the feeling didn't let go. It lingered, a quiet sense of being watched, always just beneath the surface. It wasn't the cameras or the press this time, though. It was something else.

Then I saw him. A waiter.

Just as I leaned in to say something to Jeanna, he appeared beside us without a sound, refilling our glasses. I hadn't even seen him approach. His presence was so... subtle, yet it hit me like a chill. Jeanna didn't seem to notice, her attention still on me, but I couldn't shake the feeling. There was something off about him.

"Thank you," I said, trying to catch his eye, but he just nodded curtly before moving away. Something about the way he'd looked at me-like he was assessing more than just our drinks-kept me uneasy.

"Everything alright?" Jeanna asked, her brow furrowing as she caught my distracted gaze.

I forced a smile, trying to shake it off. "Yeah, just... thought I recognized him."

She glanced at the waiter, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Hmm"

Steve returned with our food, but I noticed a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he glanced at our already-full glasses. "I see someone's been eager to take care of you," he joked, though there was a slight edge to his voice.

Jeanna seemed unfazed, diving into her meal as if nothing was amiss.

"So," I said, trying to steer the conversation back, "how'd you discover this place?"

"Paul brought me here ages ago," she said with a soft smile. "He has a knack for finding hidden gems. I've never brought anyone else here until tonight." Her gaze lingered on me, and in that moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade into the background.

I leaned in, my voice soft. "Then I'm honored. I'll guard your secret spot with my life."

But even as I spoke, the feeling lingered, growing just a bit stronger. The waiter, moving in and out of the periphery of my vision, never quite leaving, his eyes darting toward us at strange moments.

Finally, as we were finishing dessert, he returned again. As he refilled our glasses, I met his gaze for a moment-a brief exchange, sharp and calculating. I couldn't place it, but something in his eyes made the back of my neck prickle.

"What's with that guy?" I muttered, more to myself than to Jeanna.

She shrugged, her expression neutral. "I don't know. He seems fine to me."

As Steve set the bill on the table, Jeanna flashed me a grin. "We're splitting this," she declared with mock seriousness.

"Come on, let me treat you," I protested, leaning in with a smile.

"Nope," she shot back, her eyes twinkling. "We're going Dutch, and that's final."

I chuckled, relenting. "Alright, alright."

We made our way to the door, the night air cool as it slipped inside, carrying a subtle chill that seemed to match the unease I couldn't shake. As Jeanna pulled on her coat, she turned toward me, her eyes soft, searching.

"So..." I began, stepping closer, the distance between us narrowing. Her gaze held mine, and for a moment, everything else seemed to disappear.

But just as I was about to close the gap-

Thud!

The waiter, that same strange one, collided into me, stumbling awkwardly to the ground. "Sorry, oh my god!" he sputtered, scrambling to his feet.

I forced a tight smile, helping him up. "No worries," I muttered, my irritation barely in check. Jeanna laughed softly, trying to ease the awkwardness that had suddenly descended.

"Well," she said, her eyes dancing with amusement, "seems like the universe isn't giving us any more time tonight."

"Guess not," I said with a forced smile, but the frustration bubbled beneath the surface. "Let me at least walk you home," I offered, my voice quieter, almost pleading.

She shook her head, her familiar stubbornness in her gaze. "No, really. I'm fine. It's a perfect night for a walk alone."

My shoulders slumped, but I managed a smile. "Alright, but at least text me when you get home?"

Jeanna's eyes softened, the smile she gave me making my heart skip. "I will," she whispered, her voice lost in the cool night air.

As she turned to walk away, the golden streetlight reflecting off her figure, I couldn't shake the feeling that the night wasn't quite over. I glanced back, searching for that waiter, but he was gone-vanished as if he had never been there. The sense of unease