Saving Brownie | ✔

Chapter 45 : I. Just. Wanted. Chicken.

I sneezed. I sneezed right on poor Ian's pretty face.

"I-I'm sorry," I stuttered and smiled sheepishly when Ian slowly wiped his face with a handkerchief.

"It's okay." He chuckled, leaned backwards on the wooden bench and I could sense some disappointment.

But I was glad that I sneezed harshly and broke the almost kiss attempt by Ian. I didn't know what I would have done if I hadn't sneezed, but kissing Ian felt wrong in some way. Ian was extremely attractive and sweet, however, it just didn't feel right. It felt like I was being a disloyal hoe to a particular cold, impeccable, aloof, handsome, delicious, fine male specimen and that I would run out of adjectives describing him.

"Let's have lunch Ian, I'm hungry," I changed the topic, grabbing Ian's hand and pulling him up with me to avoid the awkwardness of our close proximity and almost kiss. "We'll go to that fancy restaurant I saw the other day. It's down the lane, on the way to the mansion. Call Brownie there, he must be hungry too."

Honestly, I didn't want to be alone with Ian. That attempted kiss freaked me out completely and I badly wanted Clark to join us. Clark to put a sort of barrier between us.

"Yeah, sure," Ian said dismally as if he wanted us to be alone and unwillingly took out his phone to text Clark.

I admired Ian and realized that a small smile always played on his lips. His hazel coloured eyes had a certain kind of friendly warmth in it. He was tanned slightly which made his glowing skin glisten under the magnificent sun. His chocolate brown hair was somehow far lighter than Clark's hair. Clark's hair was the darkest brown, almost sultry black.

"Clark will come in five minutes, we can go there now." Ian shoved the phone in his pocket as I enthusiastically dragged him towards the restaurant.

I gingerly sat on the plush, soft, comfy seat and drummed my fingers on the spotless glass table in the opulent restaurant. Ian was scrolling through his phone and I didn't bother to converse with him since there was this slight awkwardness which still prevailed. Instead, I eyed a chubby toddler quietly licking a spoonful of chocolate.

"Ah, here you are, finally! Took a long time to drag your thick ass here," I welcomed a sulking Clark who sat beside Ian, right opposite to me.

"Hello there! Good afternoon, sir, ma'am," the polite waitress popped up suddenly and acknowledged us. "What's your order?"

Clark and Ian gave their respective orders while I stared at the menu. I didn't understand much except for a bright picture of golden, crusty chicken beside fancy words which held no meaning in my brain. Why couldn't they write it in simple english to cater the uneducated like me? Come to think of it, people like me didn't belong here anyway.

I pointed at the picture and attempted to speak, "I want this from the extragava . . . From the extra . . . extrava . . . "

Damn it, I was so dumb! How does one even pronounce e-x-t-r-a-v-a-g-a-n-z-a?

"I'm sorry, ma'am. What do you want?" The waitress smiled apologetically and narrowed her eyes at the menu in concentration to read the tiny, curvy words.

"I want this chicken from the extra . . . extravagina---"

"Extravaganza," Clark interjected quickly and the waitress bit back her giggle.

Ian smiled in amusement and my eyebrows knotted in confusion. I. Just. Wanted. Chicken.

"Yeah, that. Whatever that is, bring me chicken and make it extra spicy," I instructed clearly and the waitress nodded.

After almost an hour of stomach rumbling and listening to Clark and Ian's business talks, the food arrived. Within minutes, my plate was licked clean and I ordered more plates of large portions of spicy, saucy chicken.

"So Brownie . . . I was wondering what kind of relationship do you exactly have with Robert?" I asked curiously while suppressing a burp and Clark quirked an eyebrow in question.

"Why do you ask?"

"Since Robert adopted you, wouldn't you be my uncle, Brownie dear?"

"What?" Clark and Ian both gave me a perplexed look.

"You would be my uncle, wouldn't you? It's weird to call you Uncle Brownie and kind of gross to be specific considering what all we---"

"No!" Clark hurriedly cut me off. "Robert just took me in, h-he didn't adopt me because I was already eighteen by then. I'm not your uncle!"

"Oh, good then. But you can always be my daddy." I winked at Clark and Ian cleared his throat, highlighting his presence.

I looked out through the window and noticed a small crowd gathered outside. Must be a celebrity somewhere around. I just shrugged and called the waitress to clear our table.

We paid the bill and I sprang onto my feet because we were now heading to the ice cream parlour. I didn't know how I managed to not get fat when I ate so much. I was average size and height for a girl my age, nothing more [maybe slightly above average in the boobs department] nothing less [maybe slightly less in the ass department]

The moment I walked out of the polished glass doors of the restaurant, a bunch of wild hooligans rushed towards me like they were bulls who had gone absolute bonkers or a better example, they looked like a bunch of fangirls gushing about stuff which sounded gibberish to my ears.

They had cameras, microphones and lightings everywhere with the spotlight on me. I felt like a star.

"How the fuck paparazzi found us?!" Clark yelled, his voice muffled in the loud screaming and he pulled me into a protective embrace when the people tried to grab me or shove a microphone in my mouth.

I even licked one microphone accidentally which made the scrumptious chicken taste I had just eaten vanish. I grimaced at my loss.

"Let's get her out of here!" Ian yelled back while pushing through the crowd and stood in front of me by taking a protective stance.

I didn't need any protection, I felt like a star with the spotlight right on me. I had to admit, I liked the attention.

The restaurant guards rushed towards us while the media people tried to ask me questions. I strained my ears to hear properly and I could hear all the questions were directed on what relationship I had with Clark.

"Don't utter a single word and stay right here. We're calling for more security," Clark ordered with his one arm tightly draped below my breasts and his other hand quickly dialling numbers on his phone.

I was not a dog. He couldn't just order me around like that. In fact, I was a rebellious, annoying bitch who would do exactly the opposite I was asked to do.

So, I snatched the nearest microphone and smirked. "I'm his girlfriend."