Mr. Ruthless

Chapter 6

Eleanor's POV

Another week had passed since the incident and nothing had happened. Everything seemed to have calmed down.

I hadn't seen Mr. Venditto much these last couple of days but no more browbeat men had shown up at the diner. Perhaps he had payed off his debt to these men and all was behind us. I knew it was a gullible thought to have but it was better than facing the harsh reality of how things could have turned out. You don't mess with people like that, that much had proven itself.

Stacey and I hadn't spoken much since, both sunken away in our own bubble of thoughts. How did that man know my name? Who was he referring to?

I sighed, leaning against the doorframe that separated the diner from the small kitchen. The diner was quietly buzzing with the few people that occupied it. I turned towards the kitchen where Stacey was counting stock, her face plunged into the freezer as she silently mumbled to herself in thought.

The bell chimed as a new customer entered. "Can you get that El." She asked as her head popped out, her face tinted bright red from the prickling cold she had been submerged in.

I nodded, making my way into the diner. I scanned the room to spot the newcomer. A hooded figure strode inside with a determined aura. I had a feeling of deja-vu as I watched him take seat in the furthest corner. Was it him?

I took in his appearance, he wore a black hoodie, similar to last time. It shadowed over the features of his face, only a few strands of brown hair sprouted from underneath the fabric. A dark pair of sunglasses rested on the bridge of his nose. Why did he always wear sunglasses inside, mid-winter?

I balled my hands into fists as I tried to stop a tremble from raking through them. Remembering our last encounter I had to muster up the courage to approach the intimidating guise.

It was when I made my way towards him that he finally pulled back the hood, I couldn't help but stare at him in fascination.

A deep scar ran over his well-defined jaw, disappearing underneath the pair of expensive looking sunglasses which were held up on his cheekbones. I couldn't even begin to describe his physique. I could only imagine the marvelous chiseled chest that rested underneath the close-fitting sweater along with the black leather jacket he wore above it.

He was gorgeous. In a way.

A strange burning sensation spread through my body and my cheeks flushed bright red as I snapped out of my daze. I quickly composed myself from the hypnotizing moment before I reached his table.

What had gotten into me? When did I stop trying to avoid any male-creature on earth. I have had my fair share of those already.

It was only when I stopped in front of him when I realized he was on the phone. His words were foreign to me, I couldn't place my finger on what language he was speaking.

The words rolled off his tongue fluently. He spoke with passion, the familiarity of his accent poking my interest further. It was like poem.

I awkwardly fiddled with the notepad in my hand as I realized he hadn't taken notice of me. Should I leave and come back later?

I cleared my throat to catch his attention. His eyes turned to me, I could feel his stare burn into my skin even through the dark tinted shades. It took a few silent seconds before he decided to end the call and turn his mind towards me.

All I wanted was for him to take off those sunglasses. I could only imagine how much more mesmerizing his eyes were in comparison to the rest of him.

He stared at me expectantly, waiting for me to speak.

"Can I take your order, Sir?" I silently praised myself for managing to say that without stuttering. He didn't reply, instead he slowly reached up and grabbed the side of his glasses. Taking them off, agonizingly slow.