Red Balloon [Liam Payne AU]

ix. Just To Hear Your Voice

Liam

It seemed like even my own upside down, out of proportion reflection gazing back at me from my soup spoon was more interesting than my date with my match. Of course, Katya was beautiful, but once I got over the fact that she was a world famous model and everything, I realized that world famous model pretty much summed up the extent of Katya’s personality. She loved to chatter, as she was doing to me right now, but she seemed to talk on and on endlessly about absolutely nothing, starting the minute I met her at the restaurant and hardly pausing for a breath since.

Shifting my gaze from the back of my spoon to my surroundings, I noted the fancy chandeliers and the romantic atmosphere of the restaurant. I’d had no say in any of this, with Juliette arranging almost everything, from the date and time to the location. Leave it to her to choose one of the nicest places in Brooklyn for our first date. The first time I glanced at the menu, I almost dropped it. Did she realize that I was a broke journalist, and I had no money to pay for a ridiculously overpriced steak?

Maybe this was Juliette’s revenge for me, in some sort of weird, professional way.

Wait a second, something was off. What was it? Oh, there was silence from the other end of the table. I looked up to see Katya staring expectantly.

“Sorry, what was that?” I asked, hoping it was a question.

“I was asking,” She restated, flipping her hair over one shoulder with a look of slight annoyance, “How you found the matchmaker.”

“Juliette?” I replied quickly. Okay, maybe a little too quickly because Katya raised her eyebrows at me and sat back in her chair. Trying to clear the awkward moment, I took a sip of my water.

“Oh, is that her name? I’ve already forgotten.”

“Uh, yeah.” I scratched the back of my neck with one hand, feeling immensely awkward. Was this how every first date was supposed to go? If so, Juliette could expect a scathing review in my full report to Holly Hill next Tuesday.

Finally bored of our last conversation topic, Katya launched into the new and simply fascinating subject of perfume modeling. Had it not been for my steak and her over the top priced salad, I would have probably staged an emergency and gotten the hell out of there.

The waiter approached our table offered me no help, only a sympathetic smile as he poured our wine. Willing myself to not look the price of this wine (because it was probably more than a month’s rent at my apartment), I took a cautionary sip. Maybe the wine would help take the shrill edge off of Katya’s voice.

In my lap, my phone buzzed with an incoming call, and I nearly jumped out of my chair, with an “I’m so sorry Katya, but I have to take this.”

Katya pouted, looking like a spoiled child deprived of her candy. “But I was just going to tell you about the time I had to pose with a Christmas tree!”

I had already pressed the ‘talk’ button, but I covered the receiver and replied, “I won’t be long. You can tell me when I get back.” Without waiting for a response, I quickly left our table and stepped outside, ready to sing my praises to whomever was calling. In my excitement and haste, I’d forgot to check the caller ID, but I would accept anyone at this point.

“Hello, Mr. Payne.”

Well, almost anyone.

“Juliette.”

There was a slight pause on the other end. “Are you on your date with Ms. Reid? How is it going?” she sounded…nervous?

“Um,” I began, thinking of the nicest way possible to phrase what I really wanted to say, “Katya certainly talks a lot…about herself.”