Twain Became One

CHAPTER 12: Cold Flame.

Judge not, that ye be not judged. -Holy Bible.

**
Pamela

The state of mind and body called 'Comfort' was so relative and varied from individual to individual. Obviously sitting in front of Chris in a restaurant right now could be termed as uncomfortable for me but not Mr CEO. My discomfort must be intriguing because he had this smug look of amusement going on and he was clearly rocking it. 

"Temitope, what will you like to eat?" Christopher asked gently, finally breaking the silence his smug look still in place.

At this point I’m having dinner with him the least I could do was call him by his actual name.

"I'll have the peppered spaghetti and meat balls. Please have the tab for the meals prepared separately," I said to the waiter.

He stared at me with a frown then handed the menu to the waiter, "White rice and pepper soup for me and I'll handle both bills thank you."

I hated the way he dismissed my statement like I was a kid or one of those women who thought a man must pander and pay for their every needs.

Fork and knives, wasn't what I was expecting. Everything about him screamed class hence I was expecting somewhere so plush; you know the types where they charged for cutlery and dinning sets or something like that. This was pretty cool. The man behind me was eating his pounded yam with his hands; the real Nigerian way. What happened to the fork and knives though?

The interior of the restaurant was well done but not Michelin star rated. The walls were cream but the furniture were all done in coffee brown. Tacky art pieces hanged off the wall and slow Afro beats could be heard in the background.

This was my kind of restaurant, good food without being too pricey.

I looked everywhere but at him. I covered up my interior by being saucy and rude, deep down I was just shy. I haven't had a meal with a guy that isn't basically Family since Matt and my previous stupid question was making it all worse.

He didn't make any attempt to make small talk either. Chris just folded his hand on his chest like he was gauging my mood.

The silence stretched and became uncomfortable so I apologised,
"I am sorry if my question was a bit abrupt and out of place but I hope you don't take it to mean I want this to be a date because honestly Mr CEO that is far from my mind. I am also  glad we are on the same page and I’m paying for my meal, thank you." I said with a straight face.

He just stared at me weirdly, his lip jutting forward in a pout, a tiny crease on his brow. He looked at me like I was a weird specimen or an alien. His stare made me self conscious so I ran my hand over my hair.

"You probably should stop doing that you’re messing up your hair even more," Chris said again. He couldn’t even consider how that will make me feel, just like that day in Liz’s office, he must have a special thing for pointing out peoples fault and weaknesses.

Unlike the first time I kept quiet, I already knew I looked a mess but I don’t care what he thinks about me so, I stared back ferociously. It could never be said that I couldn't meet a man's glare no matter how honey brown his eyes were.

The waiter finally returned with our respective orders and we ended our staring match and dug in.

The rush of saliva to my dry mouth at the sight of the dish was an immediate involuntary reflex. I stand corrected, there was class here; the arrangement of the food in front of me, its aroma. I could smell the spices woven together creating a balance I love.