Convenience

Part 43

Beatrice simply studied the restaurant. David, instead, simply studied her. Beatrice eventually sighed quietly as she reached her conclusion. She should talk to him! So she looked at him. "The place is busy." That sounds ordinary, just an average statement. Nothing to worry about. But she blinked and scowled. Why was he looking at her as if he found her reaction amusing? Then she remembered that she clearly had no intention of making it easy for him.

David smiled at her. "I tend to eat here at least a couple of times a week. Accounts for my waistline." He said, and when that did not elicit any comment he banked his smile and continued to lead the conversation. "So how often do you come up to Auckland?" He asked as he re-screwed the bottle and set it back on the table. He handed Beatrice a glass and then picked up his glass of water. It looked like making conversation with his wife was going to be a challenge. His eyes twinkled. The trouble with his wife was that she was so damn in control of her emotions. Nothing seemed to rattle her.

Not sure what to make of that light that flared into existence in his eyes, she blinked. Slightly nervous, Beatrice reached for her glass of water. Beatrice realized she'd have to say something, and try to keep it positive. How? "A couple of times a month." She should leave. Now. But she picked up her glass again and took a sip.

She lied to herself, coming to this meeting, to talk about setting up the trust. That wasn't the reason. There was just a tiny, tiny, tiny thought in the back of her head: she liked him. Five years ago. That was then. Not now! It can be hard to forget someone. She knew that. Five years. Wanting to stop thinking about him. For five years, she had worked at that. She thought she was nearly there. Until, he showed up. How can you work so hard, thought you had it, and within a few minutes, she knew she hadn't forgotten him. Five years hadn't changed. She had spent a lot of time researching him! The more she learned, the better she like him. That is why she agreed to marry him. She had, five years ago, that maybe, just maybe, he might like her. Maybe, he might come to love her. That was then. Before she realise that he had no intention of spending time with her. How could he learn about her? Her values, her beliefs, her character? Seeing him going out with other women, didn't help her situation. That is when she decided that the best thing to do, was to move. But, if she was honest, she hadn't forgotten him. Wearing his ring until recently, hadn't helped. Actually, even though she had given him her wedding ring, all it did was to keep his image in her mind. She was still thinking about him. She was an idiot!

"Business?" David prompted when she said no more. David's brows furrowed. She looked ready to leave, fast! David narrowed his eyes at Beatrice. Beatrice's eyes widened before she banked her alarm. So she nodded, and doodled on the moisture on the outside of her glass. Nerves kicked in. She had to fight hard not to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat as nerves took over. She wished she'd thought to tell him she would take her case to her hotel and return at two in time for the meeting. Instead she was going to have a cosy meal with her husband. What happened to that independent woman? She was saying all the right things, yet she knew he knew: She was nervous. Beatrice did her best not to squirm.

David's brow rose, "But not this time?" He asked, for her response suggested caution, as if she had tempered her response. She obviously did not want to reveal too much about her lifestyle. Which struck him as rather problematic given he wanted to learn everything about her. He also knew that she was nervous. Suddenly. What happened?

Beatrice shrugged but offered no more information. Then her eyes darted away. She told herself to brazen this out. It was just a lunch. A one-time lunch. She should have stayed away. It was too late to reach that decision now.

Ok, this was going to be like pulling teeth David thought. "Few companies are open over the weekend. And given you are spending the afternoon with me, this must be a pleasure weekend?"

Beatrice thought about his question. She flicked a look at him and found him waiting with quiet expectancy in his eyes. She took another sip before she put her glass down. "It is." He was clearly going to be dogged about this, and if she continued to stall with the information he would no doubt see that as a challenge. The last thing she wanted was for this man to start showing an interest in her. Yet, his interest was keeping her here. A yo-yo: Wanting to stay, and wanting to leave. She can't keeping doing this. She can't keep doing this. In any case this was going nowhere. He wasn't really interested in her. She was probably just a challenge for him.