Cult

Interrogation

Sophie's in a bad mood for the rest of the day which, personally, puts me in a very good mood. Oh, how I would love to re-watch that moment again. And again. And again. And again, and again, and again, and again. 

So you should! Al giggles.

So Ross was actually rude to his fellow employee who he's probably known for ages, and he was very nice to me. He asked for my number in front of her. The thought makes me smile.

He only wants you for one thing.

And what's more, Sophie seemed really affected by it.

Let's be honest, who wouldn't be affected by him?

He seems genuine.

They all do at first.

True.

"Slacking, Alexandra!" Sophie snaps. "Don't want to be fired on your first day, do you?"

"Call me Alex, Sophie. Everybody else does," I smile, slurping my empty Caramel Frap.

"You finished yet?" she says through gritted teeth.

"No, there's still some cream at the bottom," I say.

 The day is quite boring. The shop is fairly small. People mostly come in, look around and walk back out. The shops around the US are probably bigger, though I've never actually been in one. If Mr Cult is trying to get as big as Ron Jon's, they need to be big.

Finally, just as Sophie tells me I can leave, Ross comes back. I'm in the staff room getting my bag when he comes in.

"Hello, Miss Lowe," he smiles.

"Hi," I say feebly.

"Are you related to Nick?" he asks.

I stand up straight. "You know him?"

"Most people know him I think," he laughs.

Confusion rushes over me. He sees it on my face, because he frowns and then he says "You're bound to know who Nick Lowe is,"

"Yes, I do know my brother, you know!"  I shout, starting to get angry.

"What? He's your brother?" he exclaims.

And then I get it.

"No," I mumble.

He laughs. "Look, Alex, I'm confused. Shall we get coffee and we can talk about it?" he smiles.

Oh boy.

"Um, okay then," I say, smiling weakly back. He smirks, and then walks out the staff room. I follow him and try to hide my amusement as I walk past Sophie. She gawks open-mouthed as we walk past together.

"See you Monday, Sophie," Ross says politely.

"Yeah, bye," I say.

We're by the door when she shouts, "Where are you going?"

"We're getting a Klinky's," he smiles, "When does your shift end?"

"Eight," she mumbles. I look at my watch. It's half six. I turn towards the door and smile.

"See you Monday, then," he smiles, and gently pushes me out the door. 

Once we're outside and the door is shut tightly, he smirks and looks at me. "Do you like Sophie?"

I flush. I look at him guiltily and he burst out laughing, surprising me.

Oh, it takes a lot to look attractive when you're laughing, Al dribbles.

"Do you want to go to Klinky's?" he asks.

"I thought we were," I say.

"No, I said that to get rid of her. We can go there if you want, or we can do to Starbucks, or we can get food if you want. Did you have lunch?" he asks.

"No," I say.

"Are you hungry?" he smiles.

"A little." I pause, "I can have something when I get back to the hotel,"

"Hotel?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I don't have enough money to buy or rent a place," I mumble.

His eyes widen for a second, and I regret what I've said instantly. "Come on, let's get food. I know a place,"

"Okay," I smile.

"My treat," he says.

"No, there's no need for that," I say.

"First day treat," he smiles.

"No, the Klinky's was," I say.

"Yeah, but I had to get one for Sophie too. That doesn't count."

I laugh.

We reach a place called 'Madame Cartwrights'. He leads me inside and sits in an empty booth. Grabbing a menu, he and I stay in silence for a while and then choose what we want, telling an attractive waiter our order and he offers us wine.

"No, we're underage," Ross smiles. "Two diet cokes, please,"

I raise by eyebrows at the fact he didn't ask me. The waiter smiles and walks away.

"You did want Diet Coke, right?" he chuckles.

"I'm allergic to fizzy drinks," I say.

"What - Are you serious? Oh my God," he stutters.

"I'm kidding," I smile, and he gives me a playful look of disgust.

"So, tell me about your brother," he says after a while.

"He's not Nick Lowe. His name is Nicholas Lowe and he hates it when people make the connection," I giggle.

"Oh. I hope you didn't mind me rejecting the wine?"

"I don't like wine," I say.

"How old are you?" he asks.

"Eighteen,"

"Oh, I'm twenty," he laughs. "So have you got anymore siblings?"

"Yes, three brothers. Triplets. Nick, Daniel and Peter."

"I'm an only child. Those names are quite posh, including Alexandra,"

"Tell me about it,"

"Why?"

"My parents like to feel superiour to everyone," I huff.

"Are they still in New York?" he asks. What is this? Twenty questions?

"Yes," I say.

"So you moved to Tampa on your own?"

"Yes,"

"Do you regret it?"

I look him right in the eyes, "No. Any more questions?"

He smirks. "Just one more."

"Go," I smile.

"What time are you available tomorrow?"