𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 ℂ𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝔸𝕨𝕒𝕪 •𝕁𝔽𝕂•

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 6 - ᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴏʀ ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱʏ?

"Miss, would you like to order now?"

I looked up from the newspaper I had been scanning and fixed it on the alien voice. It was a waitress of the diner I had been sitting in, since the past thirty minutes. I couldn't help but frown, it was almost 1 in the afternoon and this was the time Sean usually came out here for lunch. I had taken the first flight I got and had reached Dallas just an hour back, just to meet Sean.

"Uh, could I have a beer please?" I said, finally glancing up from the menu card with a faint smile drawn over my lips. Her eyes widened at my unusual choice of a drink, females here probably ordered more of conservative drinks like tea and coffee and men preferred the beers, but she still nodded and scurried off with her writing pad in her hands.

I kept waiting for the next ten minutes, tapping my fingers aimlessly against the surface of the table, trying to calm my fluttering nerves. The waitress walked up to my table with a tray in her hands. She wrapped her fingers around the beer bottle and placed it in front of me.

"Anything else?" She asked.

I shook my head and watched her walk away and move on to the next table.

I curled my fingers around the neck of the bottle and took a sip of the chilled beer, letting it run down my throat and settle into the pit of my stomach. Just then, the diner door rang open and the man I was looking for, walked in with two of his colleagues chatting amongst themselves.

Suddenly, he turned in my direction and our eyes met, making him freeze on spot. A few seconds later, he whispered something to his colleagues and the colleagues waved him off and went towards the other side of the diner. Sean made his way towards me, his expressions showing hurt and betrayal.

"Sean." I whispered, barely audible.

"I searched for you endlessly, all day yesterday. You just packed your luggage and left? How could you do this? If you really didn't want to stay at my house, you should have told me." He said, his jaw tense and his eyes burning with fury. He pulled out the chair on the opposite side of me roughly and sat down, slamming his palm on the table.

"Sean, let me explain, please. I didn't run away." I tried to get through to him.

He snatched the beer that I had been drinking and in one gulp, he downed the entire contents of it, looking back up at me with venom in his eyes. I sighed and nervously bit my lip, speaking again.

"I wish I could tell you Sean, but there was no time. It all happened so fast, one minute I was enjoying a meal, the next minute, the Secret Service had come to take me with them." I said.

"Wait, what?" Sean rose an eyebrow. "Secret Service? Like Kennedy's men?"

"Yes, so the polaroids that you showed me, Kennedy administration also suspect some foul play and they wanted to place me under protection." I said.

"You chose the White House just because it's more glorious." He said, dryly.

"Sean, you are just assuming things. I was not given an option to choose. It was the President. I could not just say no to the most powerful man in the world." I commented.

"I see." Sean sat back more comfortably and motioned towards one of the waitresses who scurried over immediately and much to my obviousness, gave him a sultry smile. I rolled my eyes dramatically and cleared my throat, this broke their moment and she turned to me with a scowl on her face, warning me with her eyes to back off. Just then, I reached forward and placed my hand on Sean, entwining our fingers together to which she visibly froze and mumbled, "I suppose you will have your usual order, Mr. Douglas?" Sean nodded and tightened his grip on my hand, smiling, "Yes, and Joanna here will have the same."