Do not cross the line

Chapter 4

Sam took you some fancy restaurant, and if he had a suit on him, you would feel that you were underdressed, but since he had jeans and vest on him, you weren't bothered about your own jeans and blue shirt.

He got the table for you two from the end of the restaurant, where there were not so many people so you can be in private.

As the waiter took your orders, and you were waiting for your food, Sam told you about the ground rules of the media section.

You grabbed your notebook from your bag, making notes to yourself about the most important rules.

By the time your food arrived, Sam had told you everything you needed to know. Rest you will learn while you work in the studio.

"So, how long have you worked in the company?" - Sam asked while taking a sip of his beer. You were confused that he took a beer with lunch in the middle of the workday, you chose to take just a water.

"Four years. First I was a trainee for six months." - you said while putting the napkin on your lap.

"Six months? You got the job pretty fast. Most trainees spend here a year and a half before getting a job."

You shrugged your shoulders.

"I guess they got impressed about my work."

"No kidding, your work is marvelous." - Sam pointed while starting to eat his beef.

"How long you have been in the managing director?"

"Two years. I've been working in a company for almost ten years now. You have some qualification in graphic design?"

You shook your head while chewing your food. - "No, everything I've learned I have learned by myself."

"You always knew you want to be a graphic designer?"

"Pretty much."

Silence filled the air between you two when you enjoyed your meal. You glanced at Sam once in a while, looking at his tattoos on his neck, dying to know how he chose to get those. But you thought it would be too much, you wanted to keep the lunch as professional as possible. You were there talking about your work, not about your personal life.

You looked back down at your plate, while Sam looked at you. He had noticed you stared his neck, he wondered why you didn't ask about his tattoos which seem to interest you very much.

He smiled while swallowing his food. - "Why won't you ask?"

You looked at him under your eyebrows.

"Excuse me?"

"About my tattoos, you clearly look at them and want to know how I got them." - Sam smiled while forking another piece of the beef in his mouth.

You chewed your food, looking at him, his charming smile on his face and his beautiful hazel-brownish eyes staring at you. You felt how your cheeks started to warm up and you took a sip from your glass of water.

"It's not my business."

Sam chuckled. You were the first one who had said that. Mostly every woman has been interested about his tattoos, and you were too - but you still didn't want to know.

"I got them in prison." - Sam said, and his gaze snapped up to you when you started to cough hard when you almost choked on your food.

Your hand was on the table, and he quickly put his hand above it, rubbing your fingers gently, while you hit gently your chest and took a huge gulp from your glass.

You coughed softly and looked at him with big eyes.

"In prison?"

Sam smiled and took his hand away from yours, taking a sip of his beer, nodding.