That fear you hold so deep within, he can sense it. That fear keeps him interested. Now he is close to you my dear, now he is close.
Your panic is his entertainment. He craves you. You may choose to hide or fight, if you fight, you will lose. If you...
"A father is a man who expects his son to be as good a man as he meant to be."
- Frank A. Clark
-❤-
UNEDITED
Harry
Tyler had rescheduled my lunch with Desmond, which I assume made him rather angry. Unfortunately, I was preoccupied during the afternoon, tending to something rather sinister.
I continued to tap aimlessly on different apps on my phone to the drive to the upscale restaurant Desmond had picked for dinner. There was no point in looking out the window at the same god awful town where nothing ever changed.
After firing my previous chauffeur for prying tendencies, I was left without a driver, fortunately, tonight Desmond had arranged my pick up as I had yet to find a suitable driver, people just can't mind their own god damn business these days.
I pressed the crisp sharp collar of my tailored Burberry suit, nerves getting the better of me as I tried to present myself as the heir to Styles Pharmaceuticals Company. I knew that Desmond would eventually pass it on to me. He hasn't yet, which is why I always, even subconsciously try to better present myself.
"At what time do you expect our arrival to be?" I ask the elderly driver after pressing the button to roll down the partition.
"In exactly one minute, Sir." He curtly replies, eyes never once glancing back through the rearview mirror.
Maybe I should hire him. I pull my sleeve up slightly, revealing my Cartier watch indicating the time to be 7:29 pm. Desmond despised tardiness, a trait among many that he passed on to me. I hated to admit but my father and I share much in common, sometimes a blessing, other times a curse. Thankfully, our physical traits are far from uncanny – I look more like my mother, as I was repetitively reminded.
I see the grand building appear in my sight as we arrive at our destination. As the driver rounds the corner, stopping directly at the entrance of the building, a valet attendant opens my door. I curtly nod at the gentleman, walking away without another glance.
An elderly man dressed in a sharp tux holds open the glass door for me. I smile politely at him as a courtesy of his age. I was always taught to respect my elders – unless they disrespect me.
A lavish bar is situated in front of me, sophisticated men in suits surround the many tables drinking expensive liquor, and ladies in short gowns accompany them. I walk directly through the bar, towards the modern counter, where an attractive middle-aged woman stood.
I clear my throat to grab her attention away from the counter.
"Reservation for Styles." Immediately the lady's temperament changes from flirty to timid.
"Yes Sir, right this way." the woman leads the way. We take the elevator up to the top floor. After the doors reopen, she struts in front of me up all the way around the limited diners in the upscale restaurant.
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She led me through intricate glass doors where I spotted Desmond sitting alone on one of the few tables in the secluded area. His wrinkled eyes focused solely on the silver laptop before him. A few expensive candles and the Apple logo illuminated a small area of the table. The dimmed lighting really elevated the atmosphere of the secluded area of the restaurant.
The lady quickly showed me the table and swiftly walked away, seemingly not wanting to spend another moment with us. I cleared my throat to inform Desmond of my presence.
"I know you're there, Harry. Just sit down." He said unenthusiastically.
"Is this a meeting or father-son bonding time?" I commented sarcastically.
Desmond is an excellent father that cares for all his children. Note my sarcasm.
"Why can't it be both?" Father finally set his eyes upon my form.
"Harry, I asked you here today because I wanted to discuss your future plans. Neither of us is getting any younger... So, when are you getting married? I want grand-children, Harry. You aren't even in a relationship yet! I want to you stop messing around with those escorts and find a real woman to settle down with." Desmond
"Father, I'm only 24 years old. I don't understand why you're asking such a thing." I was sure confusion was written across my features. My father's words hit a cord, I was sure to not let it show.
"It's a short life, you never know what will happen tomorrow, is all I'm saying." Swiftly dropping the topic, he picks up the menu. The large paper built a wall between us, how ironic.
A waiter comes to our table as to ask for our dinner choices, thankfully I had already known what I'm going to order.
"I'll have the Winter Greens with Citrus Salad and a glass of Château Cheval Blanc 1947." I recite nonchalantly.
"Winder greens and citrus?! What's gotten into you? Where's my boy?" Desmond looks me up and down in an emotion I can't decipher.
"I'll have the Cote De Boeuf Steak and your best red."
"Father please, I think it's time we discuss the elephant in the room – Mother's anniversary. It's coming soon and I will be heading down to the creek in memory of her..." I trailed off.
My sudden mention of her caught him off guard. His eyes glistening in the dim light as his memories brought on her sweet reminiscence.
"Harold, that creek will be full of young miscreants this time of year, it's not the best scene to remember your mother."
The rest of the evening went by smoothly – mention of my darling mother changed Desmond's entire facade from heartless to compassionate. I was thankful for that.
Not much, I know – at least it's something. I recently got a job and it's been taking up most of my time. I finally have adjusted to it a bit and got back into writing. Days after days I wanted to delve back into Alexadnra's word, yet I didn't have the energy. So please, enjoy this little chapter for now.
A lot of excitement is on the way for the next chapter - the bonfire and many other unimaginable secrets will be brought to light.
