Beignet

4.

CHAPTER 4

Naomi, I'm sorry...again. That was stupid of me and I get you're not interested, which is fine with me too. As maybe not so normal as this may sound, I like talking to you and you've become a part of my daily routine. And I don't want it to stop.

---

Please pick up the phone. Give me something to work with Naomi.

I'll call you later in the evening at about 8pm your time I'm hoping you'll pick up.

---

I'm coming to London in three days, even if you decide not to ever talk to me again, I want to see you once more to apologise to you face to face.

---

Ignoring Saint was the hardest job in the world, Naomi had concluded. She wanted to be able to block and delete his number from her contact list but she couldn't bring up her heart and hand in accordance to do so. Just as he had claimed that she had become a part of his daily routine,so had he, which was something she hated to admit to herself.

So much so, that the many times that he'd called her during the last week since the conversation she'd stare at the screen of her phone crying when her phone would light up to notify an incoming call from Saint.

Two weeks was a crazy short amount of time, but in that time that they'd been talking she'd found herself so quickly into him. Having someone who just wanted to talk to her, not for gain or to make an order, but to just be that lullaby that put her to sleep at the end of a stressful day was what she appreciated the most from her companion.

The nearly three decade age difference meant shit all to her and she believed neither for him too but that's where it ended. She so desperately wished that she had someone to talk to but didn't dare coming close to telling any of her friends because of the criticism she knew would surely come her way. They would only think one thing: Sugar-daddy.

And they wouldn't be wrong to think so.

Looking in the mirror at herself as she put her jacket on, tears fell from her eyes.

God help me.

Her virginity she viewed as most sacred, because that's what she'd been taught and that's what she believed it to be – the temple of God. She'd always wanted her husband to be the only one to touch her body and never up until a week ago thought it to be a paying customer.

But she had bills to pay.

Finally grabbing her scarf, phone and wallet she exited the room and got out of her student accommodation. It was only gone five in the late afternoon, but the sky was two shades from being pitch black. Light rain fell and Naomi put on her hood as she walked to the tube station.

Her nerves were bouncing all over the place as she tried hard not to think of what exactly the situation was. When she had texted Saint back three days ago to agree for a meet up she had told him they should meet in a hotel room, he'd asked why and she said because he didn't want anyone seeing them together. Even though he'd complied, Naomi couldn't help but think he'd felt some type of way about the answer but she tried not to dwell on it because she didn't want to care about how he felt especially now understanding how he viewed her as.

London was a big city and two strangers meeting again was hardly ever a possibility but Naomi wasn't about to take those chances. What gave her the most anxiety was the thought of a family friend seeing her entering the hotel and word was sent back to her parents. And so that's why from when she got off the tube and left the station she avoided making eye contact with anyone and kept her head down, the annoying part was that she'd received a text message from Saint saying the room card was needed to get into the lifts and so he'd be waiting in the lobby to get her up. Typing back an okay, she upped her pace as she crossed the streets and entered the hotel.