Princess °° Freddie Highmore [dd/lg]

chapter twelve:

-- C H A P T E R
T W E L V E --

"So, where are we headed?" I ask Freddie as we drive into town, partly away from campus grounds.

"Have you ever heard of this Mexican cuisine called Chewy's?" he asks as he stops in front of a red light. I watch as his eyes remain on the road; his left hand on the wheel but his elbow remaining on the inside of the door. This man can make driving look unbelievably sexy.

"Amanda?"

I snap out of my trance. "I'm sorry -- what?" I ask. I can feel my cheeks rising to a crimson red. Good God this was so embarrassing!

"I asked ye if you've ever been to Chewy's," he says. "are you alright?"

I nod, and smile. "Yeah, I'm fine." I say. "I just got distracted." I look down at my hands, then continue. "And to answer your question, no." I reply. "I've never been to Chewy's."

"Oh, you'll love it there!" Freddie exclaims. "They've got a great taco salad and nachos. It's also decently priced. I go there every couple of months."

"I can't wait to try it." I say.

And with that, the rest of the car ride remained in silence.

°°

"So," Freddie begins as we sit at our booth. We made our orders and were drinking our drinks. I got a water while Alcoholics Anonymous got himself a Shirley Temple with a pinch of vodka in it. "what was it that distracted you earlier, Ms. Helgard?" he smirks as he takes a sip.

Your good looks. I thought to myself. He didn't need to know that, though. After all, he is my ex boss and I'm still angry at him for how he treated me.

"Oh, uh," I stumble over my words. "just school stuff. Nothing big." I wave my hand in a careless manner.

"What is it that you're studying for?" Freddie asks, his iridescent eyes narrowing at me. His arms are on the table, and I couldn't help but slightly gasp at his shirt sleeves as they were rolled up just before his elbows again. He looked so damn sexy. I almost forgot to be mad at him.

Damn him and his good looks!

"I'm studying for Sociology," I reply. "how long have you been in real-estate?" I ask, trying to make conversation. I already knew the answer thanks to Google, but I wanted to hear it from him. The internet always lies. People, on the other hand,  couldn't lie a whole lot. In fact, it's quite rare to find a pathological liar.

He sits back in his seat, stretching himself with his arms resting behind his head. "Ehm," he furrows his eyebrows to think. "Fifteen years?" He replies. "Yeah, just about."

"What made you want to become a real-estate agent?" I ask him as soon as our food arrives.

Freddie bites his lower lip, then picks up his fork as he stabs into his enchilada appropriately. "I was poor when I was younger," he says. "my mum and dad worked in a factory. We didn't really have a lot of holidays celebrated to our liking, so... I vowed to meself that I would never become poor."

I nod, listening intently.

"So, once I graduated high school, I had managed to go into Uni with a scholarship for penmanship and got a couple of degrees in business and marketing." He takes a bite of his enchilada, then swallows and continues to talk. "And fifteen years later, my hard work has paid off well."

I smile, and then decide to dig into my taco salad.

Freddie was right.

It was good.

°°

"What did ye think?" Freddie asked me as soon as he got into the car after he paid the bill. His smile is radiant as he puts his sunglasses back on.

"I loved it!" I replied. "I still have leftovers for later."

"It's good not to waste food," he comments as he starts the car. "I learned my lesson the hard way."

I nod in sympathy. "I'm sorry about that." I reply.

He waves his hand carelessly. "It's alright." He states. "Now," he says. "Let's get ye back so ye don't get marked as absent."

°°°