Mr West

Chapter 8

Eliza

As the day dragged on I couldn't stop my mind from wandering back to the previous events.  No matter how many snarky customers I dealt with or how many jolly encounters I had with the elderly folk that frequented the golf course, it could not relieve the stress and doubts I had.  His hooded gaze was all I saw in my mind.  I had replayed the moment over and over again, like hitting rewind on a movie and still I was no clearer to figuring it all out.  I felt like I was trapped in a movie, of the mystery genre of course, and I was the naïve girl who couldn't see the most obvious clues.  What was I missing?  I was certain that there was more to the story of West and Banks.  History was definitely lurking, past events creeping into the present.  He seemed to hold a very deep loathing of the man, Marcel that is, and I just couldn't figure out why.  From what I'd gathered Marcel was, although at times a handful and full of snarky comments and sarcastic remarks, he wasn't all that bad a guy.  So why did Dylan dislike him so?  Why had such a brutal confrontation took place?  None of it made even a tiny bit of sense.  If there was some hint, some more to the story that I was aware of I could possibly let it go.  But there flipping wasn't!  I was kept in the dark, treated like a damn child as if I would be hurt by the facts.  I was being treated as an overly-sensitive individual.  And, I had to wonder, why had they stared at each other like they wanted to kill one another?  It was a complicated relationship clearly.  Mr West had literally came charging into the room like a bull and demanded, ordered practically that he vacate the room.  The look on his face had terrified me.  What I wasn't sure of was why Marcel, a grown man might I add, left the room on command like a scolded child?  And had another confrontation ensued once I was out of earshot?

Honestly!  My life was becoming a soap opera.  My days were filled with drama.  Each night I was left with many more questions and yet not a single answer.  I was a character in a show, and yet I was the character who quite literally knew nothing.  I didn't even know who to turn to about such things.  Questions I wanted answers to were unlikely to come from the sources around me, at least not without being doused in gossip on top of facts.  That would indeed result in me questioning the gossip.  Not a good idea.  The rest of the afternoon flew by thankfully and the whole time I had been itching to go down to Mr West's office and ask him outright what the hell it was all about!  As stated earlier he terrified me in that moment.  I'm not 100% sure he would be up for discussing such matters, least of all with me.  From what I'd noticed of his behaviour he didn't seem the type to open up and throw out his feelings.  At least not to just anybody.  He was a very secretive person, one that boxed up their feelings and locked them tight away.  His demeanor had not only scared me but had also surprised me.  This was only my third encounter with him and I'd seen a change in his attitude.  Out of three meetings I'd seen him interested when he first met me, sweet and a little nervous when we ran into one another the other evening and furious last night.  Most people were quite temperamental upon the first 5 or so meetings with new people.  It wasn't until maybe the sixth meeting that true colours and real gripping emotions began to flow freely.  I'd seen the dark side of him today and I honestly believed both the interested Mr West and sweet Mr West were two sides only a minor amount of people had seen.  What made me so special?

Behind me I heard a chuckle and squealed.  The plate in my hand slipped from between my soapy fingers and dropped into the warm water with a splash.  Suds coated my apron and I turned to the person responsible for my clumsiness with a frown.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Nate grinned.

He chucked a red and white striped dish towel towards me and I caught it then dabbed at the wet patches on my chest.

"Nothing," I lied.

I guess I could ask him.  Better not to though.  Dredging up a past he had proven so far to be distressed and annoyed about didn't seem like a good idea.  His eyebrows raised as if he didn't believe me.  I could see the concern etched on his face and quickly came up with another lie to satisfy his protective instincts.

"I'm just thinking about what I'll do when I get home tonight."  I shrugged.  "Unpack or sleep?"

He nodded and scratched his stubbly chin.  The hair on his chin was growing fast and thick.  He suited a beard I noticed.  Made him look rather grown up and dashing.

"You still haven't unpacked?"

"Well the essentials and necessities yes."  I laughed.  "The other unimportant things, not so much."

"How about I come round and help?  Four hands are better than two right," he offered, proceeding to wiggle his long tan fingers.

I giggled.  "Alright, sure. Sounds like a plan."

Having Nathan there might help to take my mind off of certain people.  I could gladly focus my attention on something other than the intoxicating man.  Over the course of the past week I had been having many inappropriate imaginings about him.  After last night's incident, seeing him so dark, mysterious and almost protective I had dreamt of him.  I sensed a spark of the green eyed monster in Dylan, but then maybe my own fantasies were leaking into my dreams and ideas of who he was as a person.  It wasn't that I craved a jealous man, not completely.  Just something about a protective, jealous, (to an extent) man was a major turn on for me.  I craved it more than I cared to admit.

It's hard to explain clearly.  I guess I just desired a man to want me, wholly and completely.  A man who would strive to make sure I was nothing but happy.  A man who would want me for themselves, claim me almost as their own.  It sounds possessive in those terms but that is not at all how I see it.  Imagine a man who craves you, needs your touch to sate him and needs your sweet words and your presence to keep him sane.  It's crazy to some but to me it's in some ways desirable and hot!  I just want a man who enjoys being around me all the time, loves to see me smile and adores my laughter.  A man who listens intently as I rally off stories of my days and relishes in seeing my face light up with joy and delight.  You know, just a loving and adoring man who devotes his time to me.  His attention focused solely on me.  The jealously part comes in in a sense of a man who despises other men checking out 'their girl'.  Not a man who gets aggressive and possessive when another man talks, in friendly manners, to their girl.  But a man who grows impatient and does not tolerate a flirty man making passes or trying to coax 'their girl' to flirt back.  That is the type of man I desire.  Some may call me odd, say it's a crazy dream.  Others may relate and understand.

What I didn't understand was why I was painting a man I hardly knew in this light?  Just because I had seen him in a murky light did not mean he was the desirable man I yearned for.  As for now I had to keep my wits about myself and try not to lose it in his presence.  I was beginning to feel weak at the knees just considering such options.  I shook my head and blink bringing myself back into the real world and the reality I face daily.  Nathan has already vacated the room, probably not long after I disappeared into a vision of pure bliss and contentment.  Golly gosh, could 5pm hurry up and arrive so I could leave!

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