Chasing Henry Marshall

Chapter Three

   "Miss Isabella Maine, correct?"
   I nodded and stood in front of his desk, watching him sit down. He clasped his hands together and gently put his steepled fingers against his chin. I could tell by the look he gave me that he was thinking. I was now worried about what was going through that mind of his. His blue eyes gave nothing away as they stayed locked on me. I squirmed under his judgmental gaze, eyes dropping to my converse.
   "You don't want to be here."
   I looked up quickly, the statement taking me of guard.
   "How did you..."
   "I have a talent for reading people. Your body language during class today told me everything, not to mention the way you reacted to my earlier statement and the answers you gave to my questions. They were amateur but organized. Are you an English major?"
   I blinked, words leaving me once more. A smile twitched at his lips, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. I was funny to him? I slowly felt anger bubble up inside me, replacing the lack of confidence I had. I put my hands on his desk and leaned forward, bringing my face close to his as he had done to me in front of all my fellow peers.
   "For your information, I am a journalist. I write front page articles for the school and local papers! I am not a science person. To be honest, I hate it. All of it. But I figured I could get some good story material out of this class." I stared into his stormy blue eyes, daring him to counter.
   He leaned forward, putting his hands on the arms of the chair as if he was going to get up. He was so close I could see myself reflecting in his eyes. Those beautiful, captivating, cerulean hues shot right into my soul. I felt the coldness emanating from them and slowly moved away, straightening up in front of his desk. I wrapped my arms around myself.
   "Is that so? Journalists love me," he said with full arrogance and a bit of sarcasm. My jaw dropped open. How egotistical can one man be!
   "Excuse me?"
   "I could probably get your paper more publicity. I mean, who doesn't want to read about a TV star like myself. Ask me anything."
   I couldn't keep up with this guy. I let out a dry laugh. This peaked his interest and he looked at me, confusion briefly flickering across his face before being replaced with a firm, emotionless look. He stood up and, without looking at me, walked for the door. I watched him walk away and realized what he was doing. Henry Marshall, CEO and lead investigator of one of the most well known paranormal teams in the world, was giving me a chance to interview him. He didn't like to be in the spot light. He was one hard man to get in touch with and even harder to get personal information out of, thus the absence of any on the internet. And he knew that by walking away, I would have seconds to weigh my options and choose.
   "Wait!" I said, walking after him. He stopped, a hand on the door.
   "Yes Miss Maine?" He responded and I could hear the notes of mockery in his voice. This guy thought my discomfort was a joke. I felt my blood boil and I stomped my foot like a child.
   "Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out!"
   I felt the temperature drop in the room and he glanced over his shoulder at me. Even from a profile view, he was one of the most handsome men I had ever seen and the cold look in his eyes sent shivers up my spine. A different kind of shiver... One I had never felt before. My heart throbbed hard in my chest but I held my ground. I was never so bold. After a few seconds he turned back to the door and opened it.
   "See you soon," He said and walked out. As the door clicked shut, I ran a hand through my hair, feeling relief rush over me. I took a deep breath and felt a bit happy with myself. I had stood up to a very powerful, intimidating man and made it through my first day in what I assumed would be my worst class. Today was going wonderful. Now it was time to go change and head to the restuarant. I pushed open the hall door and walked out of the science building, heading back to my dorm with my messenger strap clutched tight in my hand. As his last 3 words echoed in my head, the only thing I could think was...
   Not to soon I hope.

   I managed to get to work on time, as per usual, but this time I was energized and ready to roll. For some reason, fighting with my new narcissistic professor had put a pep in my step. I slipped through the back door and waved to Ricardo who was flipping over some hamburger patties. Ricardo was fresh out of Locwen and was working as a chef for his Dad until he found a real job. I slid around him and moved into the front, stepping behind the high topped counter. I tossed my stuff  into a cubby underneath and grabbed a towel. I was the honorary bus girl, cleaning up after people. It was ironic since that's what I have done most of my life.
   I was heading around the side of the counter to clean an empty table off when I felt my towel ripped from my back pocket. I froze, feeling the presence of someone behind me. For a moment, an image of Henry Marshall flashed in my head but I immediately shooed it away. No way would a man of his standards come to a small restaurant like this.
   "Bella? What's wrong? It was just a joke..."
   I snapped from my reflection and turned around. There stood Ethan, my childhood friend. Of course he would be the one who stole my towel. I folded my arms and shifted my weight to one side, bringing out the sass that only Ethan knew of. Instantly, Ethan's green eyes filled with his lazy happiness. He held up my towel and pointed at it.
   "Looking for something?" He jived.
   I paused, staring at him, before I lashed out. I felt the fabric of the towel brush my fingertips but Ethan was just a smidgen faster. Unfortunately for me, my sneakers lost their traction on the tile floor. I internally groaned. I was going to fall in front of everyone. I closed my eyes and put my hands out to cushion the fall, but I felt a strong arm around my waist. I felt a heat rise up my neck and into my face. I opened my eyes and stared right up into two emerald hues.
   "Watch out for the floor Bella," He whispered and set me on my feet. He draped the towel over my head and walked away to seat a couple. I stood there a moment, trying to will the blush away. Finally, I pulled the towel off my head and walked to the table I had intended to clean. I just needed to keep myself busy and I would be heading home in no time.
   And that's what I did. I kept myself busy for most of my shift. I cleaned tables, set tables, got drinks for people, and never stopped moving. I loved doing my job, especially because it was a small restaurant and the people who came in were so sweet. Most of them were elderly couples or parties of old men or old women whose laughter filled the usually silent air. The pay was iffy but I understood that Ricardo and his family didn't make much because of exactly how small the place was. I didn't mind working the shifts I did and the personalities of the people I worked with were across the board. I didn't have previous job experience but with Ethan's help, I landed the busing job.
   To be frank, I don't know where I would be without Ethan Welshire. He was like the brother I never had. His personality was infectious. He was lazy, strong, and a complete goofball. I don't think that I have ever been to a party where Ethan wasn't the life of it. I sighed and began to wrap silverware quietly, humming. Today was actually an ideal day, aside from this mornings interesting occurrences. Ethan came by with a full tray and briefly asked for me to go get the last two dishes. I finished my set of silverware and headed back. Ricardo slid the two over and I grabbed them with a soft thanks.
   I mosied over to where Ethan was and gave the meals to him. Ethan snapped and looked at me, giving the dish in his hand to a elderly lady.
   "Bella keep giving these out. They want some hot sauce and ketchup," he called as he walked back to the kitchen. I stood there for a second before I began asking and giving out dishes. It was a 6-top, 4 elderly women and 2 men all laughing over cups of steaming coffee. I knew two of them. They were a regular couple that came in. I stopped and talked with them a bit, discussing their grandchildren. I had seen them a few times and they were adorable.
   "Hey Bella!" I looked over, Ethan's call interrupting our conversation. He motioned toward the door and I knew what he meant. I grabbed the tray and the jack, walking toward the counter. I rested the jack against the wall and took the tray back. When I emerged, Ethan was on his way back. I looked around the entrance area.
   "Ethan?"
   He looked over at me from the coffee machine, "Hm?"
   "Where did the people go that you wanted me to seat?" He looked over at the door and then shrugged, replacing the refilled coffee craft. He leaned on the counter beside me.
    "Maybe he took a call and walked outside?"
    I looked at him, "How many were there?"
    He pushed off the counter and thought for a moment, "One. Just him."
    I raised an eyebrow and then grabbed a menu, waiting for him to come back. If he did.
    "Did he look like he was going to eat here?"
    "Well yeah. He asked me if he could be seated. But you've been doing it all night and I had to get the condiments to the table."
    I sighed and Ethan patted my back as he walked back to the kitchen. I sat there and stared at the door. We were closing in an hour and a half. Not many people came in this close to close. I shook my head and began to put the menu back. Who knew how long this guy would be before he came back. But as I put the menu back, I heard the door open behind me. I let out a slightly frustrated breath and moved behind the counter.
   I checked the schedule to see which server would be taking this table and, luckily, it was Ethan. I didn't really talk to the other servers but I knew they would take this table if I told them. I checked the table chart and then spoke without looking up.
   "How many?"
   There was a long silence and I groaned. Really. I quickly glanced behind me and there was 2 people standing there. I rolled my eyes and looked back down at the sheet.
   "Will a booth do for you two?"
   "No no. Only one of us will be eating."
   I froze where I stood. I dropped the pen and slowly turned around.
   There stood Mr. Henry Marshall himself, an amused grin on his face. I blinked, words evading me as they had before. This was not happening to me. He gave me a brief, mocking grin. I felt my stomach drop. This wasn't a coincidence. There was much bigger, better restaurants that would suit his tastes. He was doing this on purpose. He knew where I worked. His smile grew wider, as if he could read my mind and was struggling not to laugh at my bewilderment.
   "What are you doing here?"