The Consolation Prize

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Monique was drenched in the pouring rain.

Her clothes were clinging onto her body like second skin, whilst her brown hair turned a shade darker and was matted on her forehead. Her black leather shoes were soaked in the canal water as she trotted hastily on the sidewalk. She cursed underneath her breath for forgetting to bring an umbrella. Her phone gave a weather forecast that it would rain before she left but she still quite had the luxury to forget the most important thing to shield her whenever it rained.

She still wondered what Oliver called her for, rather, she wondered why Oliver called her in the first place. Ever since the walkout she did a week ago, she hadn't heard of him, as well as Nathaniel, the blue-eyed boy who she couldn't take her mind off from. There were occasions when she was jarred from her sleep, mostly because her mother's voice haunted her mind, echoing and repeating like a broken record. But sometimes, she would wake up because the imagery projected inside her dreams were too real, most especially two blue eyes made her heart skip a beat. She knew they belonged to Nathaniel and she couldn't admit to herself she missed his presence. She wanted to talk to him about Game of Thrones just to take her mind off from the reality that always had a way of destroying her.

When she stepped inside Starbucks, the famous green logo with white etchings of a girl with long hair or god knew if it was her sea legs, the cold air-conditioning of the building made her shiver. The whole place wasn't bustling with customers and she could immediately make out Oliver's brooding frame from afar. Her skirt were dripping with water droplets on the smooth hardwood floor, her body slightly trembling as she sauntered towards him. His lips were pursed together, a small stubble forming underneath his chin.

He was swiping something on his phone but when Monique stood in front of him, letting him acknowledge her presence, he immediately snapped from his reverie and placed the phone inside his pocket. His face betrayed no emotion, which contrasted to the vulnerability he showed last week.

"Oliver," she called softly and he nodded in response.

"Sit," he said in a firm tone, his voice deep. Monique obliged, the legs of the chair creating a scraping sound as she planted her bum on the smooth woody chair. She clasped her hands together, her torso trembling from the occasional whooshing of the air-conditioner. "I am so pleased to see you come," he said. His voice was a monotone. He sounded like a robot programmed to tell her those words. She only nodded.

"What do you want me here for?" she asked timidly, almost looking away when his green eyes pierced through her, like a laser slowly melting her.

"Read this," he answered in a stronger manner, sliding the iPad towards her. The headline was in bold letters, and she could hear the sirens ringing inside her head.

It read:

Is Monica Jones having a secret love affair?

Her heart got stuck on her throat, her eyes widening as she saw a picture of Nathaniel and her hugging each other in the light of day. She remembered that moment, when she walked away from her parents and Nathaniel was the only person who ran after her and told her words that made her slightly better. She swiped further, her heart pounding loudly against her chest, as if a wild animal was stuck inside.

Monica Jones, the future CEO of Jones Law Firm, and Oliver Waite, the CEO of Waitechnologies, decide to postpone their wedding and move it on a date they are about to decide yet. But the question is, is it because of Monica Jones's secret love affair? The picture boldly highlights the sensual touches Monica is giving to her what seemed like another lover.