Never Ever Gonna Happen (Complete)

Chapter Fifteen

With several days after the interview gone, Jeanie was certain Bernard was avoiding her and while he tried to blame his absence and continual reluctance to even talk to her, on being busy, she was completely certain he wanted nothing to do with her.

So, she spent her days locked in her room which had now transformed from being paradise to being somewhat of a jail. Noticeably missing in action as well was Amanda and when Jeanie asked about her, Bernard mumbled something about being out of town. It was official then; Jeanie was truly locked in a castle with a beast who wouldn't even say more than two words to her.

With a loud sigh, she pulled out her computer, typing in the name 'Bernard Moreau' on google. She might as well do some digging of her own, into the life of the man she was supposedly engaged to. If he wouldn't talk to her, google will.

Her eyes scanned every article, each having nothing nice to say about Bernard. Most claimed that he was a horrid designer with an ego the size of Asia. There was also some that claimed he was selfish, having nothing to do with charity. She found the interview they did together, with the interview having very little to say about Jeanie and even now as Jeanie read her own statement, she understood Bernard's anger. It felt like the whole world had turned against him and Jeanie was one of them.

Jeanie didn't agree with any of these articles. Sure, Bernard had an ego attached to him but Asia was just being too dramatic. And his designs were amazing, breathtaking if Jeanie had a say in any of it. He might have not been involved in charity on a large scale but he took Jeanie in when she was kicked out of her apartment. If that wasn't charity, she didn't know what was.

With a frown on her face, Jeanie was sure to leave nasty comments on most of those articles, telling the writers just what she thought about their writing skill and if they were going to judge a designer and accuse him of being a bad designer, then they needed to at least be great writers as well. She wrote something in the line of removing the log from their own eyes before removing the speck of dust from Bernard's. Then she went ahead to throw in the fact that Bernard wasn't some monster with horns or lacking of feelings. She had seen hurt in his eyes the night of the interview and while she couldn't write that exact fact down, she implied it. Of course her comment made as much impact as a drop of rain would make on a mountain it was trying to bring down, she felt a lot better after commenting.

A soft yawn escaped her lips. Turning to stare at the wall clock, Jeanie realized it was an hour to midnight; she had spent the entire evening defending Bernard, she forgot to eat dinner.

She pushed herself off of her bed and unlocked the door. Was Bernard home from work? She doubted he'd leave his office so early and also considering the fact that he avoided her lately, she knew he would rather stay out late. Cautiously making her way down the stairs, Jeanie had to pause as the image staring out the large window of the living room, came into view.

Bernard stood there, his hands pressed against the window like a child who was anticipating something exciting or saying good bye to his mother, she didn't know which. But as she stood there staring at him, he looked less like the rich and powerful designer, and more like a simple man. He was dressed in a plain white T shirt and a blue denim. From what Jeanie could see, he must have come home from the office hours ago.

Jeanie continued her descent down the stairs but Bernard still didn't turn to acknowledge her. He was either ignoring her, or he was lost in his mind. Jeanie would easily believe the first part. She made her way to the kitchen and pulled the refrigerator wide open. She couldn't blame Bernard for not finding her comment to the interviewer funny. Having to live with so many nasty words being said about you, Jeanie couldn't blame him for being disappointed that the person who was supposedly in love with him, couldn't find something nice to say even if that thing was a lie.