Bloom [Completed]

Chapter Thirteen

"What about my world?" I ask taking a sip of the wine the waiter has just put down.

Here we go, 20 questions. I internally cringe, this part of dating is the worst. Telling strangers everything about your past again and again.
But this wasn't a stranger, this was Oliver Daley. He seems more trustworthy than most, maybe I could trust him with my secrets...

"How did you grow up?" He responds taking a sip of his wine as well.

I pause for a moment.

"I grew up across the country, came here for university and stayed. I lived with my Mum and Dad and older sister. And several cats over the years."

He laughs a little at this. "So you're a cat person?"

"I like dogs too," I laugh with him and continue on.

"I got a scholarship to come study business out here that's how I got out."

"Out? Your up bringing sounds perfectly ideal."

"My family wasn't the problem. I miss them." I explain. "There was nothing for me in that town."

"I see," he muses "Closed off town... close minded too I bet."

"Mmm," I agree tasting my wine again. It really is delicious, he picked a good one.

"Are you ready to order, Sir?" The waiter appears over my shoulder addressing Oliver.

"Yes," He says looking down at the menu. "I'll have the chicken, thank you. Billie what will you have?" He looks up at me expectantly.

Oops, I hadn't even looked at the menu properly. Glancing down quickly I scan the options but I see nothing.

"I'll have the chicken also," I smile up at the waiter and he nods and disappears.

"So you studied business?" He questions.

"Yes," I say cautiously. I know full well being a mail room girl was not my intended field.

Oliver seems to notice my tension around the subject and pauses, assessing me no doubt.

"I take it mailroom wasn't by choice?"

"No," I look down and my laces fingers under the table.

"How many years did you spend looking for a job in business before giving up?"

"Three years," I sigh.

"You know you could probably get a job at Daley Enterprises if you wanted... I could probably get you a job..." he suggests.

I laugh at this. "You know, I actually got turned down by Daley Enterprises after interviewing."

"What? How could they turn you down? You're so smart and capable."

"I don't know, you tell me, boss man" I smile at him.

He chuckles in response.

"The stickler who interviewed me felt bad for me and suggested I apply downstairs." I say with a hint of annoyance in my tone.

"Well," he responds. "He's an idiot whose missing out who ever he is."

"Mmm," I murmur. "I don't know maybe I'm not cut out for it. Maybe I'm not as smart as I'd like to think."

"No," he shakes his head. "Don't ever put yourself down like that! You are smart enough. I could get you a higher up job if you wanted it Billie, all you have to do is ask."

I blush at his sincerity. I don't think a guy has ever said something like that to me before. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

I hide my smile behind my glass as I take another sip. Why is he so kind to me and no one else?

"I like my job where I am." I say honestly. "It's very social."

"Is it now?"

"Yeah, you wouldn't know anything about it, locked away up in the top of your castle."

"Really?" He laughs and I smile at the sound.

"I know just about everyone who works for you, who they're married to and how many kids they have." I say shocking him.

He sits there gazing at me. I wonder what he's thinking but before I can ask the waiter arrives with our food.

It looks delicious and smells even better than my grandma's roast chicken on Christmas.

"Mmm," Oliver hums while tucking into his plate.

I follow suit, a little grateful for the distraction. Maybe I can ask him more about himself while he's chewing.

"Do you have any siblings?" I ask him in between mouthfuls.

"No," he responds with some food tucked into his cheek.

Oh thank god! This boy eats with food in his mouth. That means I can a little too! I was worried he was super posh about those sorts of things but it doesn't seem like it.

"Just me and my Mum," he continues.

"And... what about your father?" I ask tentatively, I'm not sure if this is a sore spot or not.

"I never knew him, he ditched us when I was born. Mum was only 20 when she had me."

"And how old are you now?"

"Haven't  you googled me already?" He stops eating for a moment.

"No," I say shyly. "I forgot."

"Oh," he lets this fact sink in. "Well this is refreshing. Please don't google me then, I'm happy to answer any questions you have about me that the media can't twist."

I smile up at him. "Okay, sure."

"I'm 29," He says answering my question finally.

"I'm 25," I say feeling a little weird.

"This is starting to feel like a real date, isn't it?" Oliver laughs and I join him feeling relieved.

"I can't remember the last time I went on a real date like this. Most women I meet at events here and there. And they already know me, and all they want is a go at my money." He sighs.

"I don't want your money," I scoff, I know exactly the type of women he's describing.

"That's one more thing to like about you then," he smiles.