Wilde's Flower (ON HOLD)

Chapter Seven.

'Excuse me.' I whisper, unable to recognize the sound of my voice. I grab my phone from my bag to check who's calling.

Oh Shit, it's Nora. I forgot to inform her about the sudden change in plans. She must've gone to the office looking for me. It wouldn't take a genius to know she would've been told who I'm with. I don't answer it, rather I mute the call.

'Any problem?' I look across the table at Oliver, his brows furrow slightly as he stares at me intently. His stance inadvertently focused on composing himself while adjusting his silver cufflinks and straightening his blue jacket.

Carefully placing my phone on the table, I look around searching for my escape, the bathroom. 'Please excuse me, I need the bathroom.' I say quickly, rising before he could utter a response. I need to go and compose myself.

His eyes are on me; I can feel them burning holes through my dress. I roll my neck to try and rid myself of the goosebumps jumping onto my nape. I strut past a few tables and peering eyes to a small corridor at the end of the restaurant.

I find the ladies empty and I brace myself over the sink, open the tap and look at my discombobulated appearance in the mirror. 'Jesus, Jo. Pull it together.' I scorn my reflection. I don't know what is it, but the more I see Oliver, the more I feel my resolve crumbling. At this point, I'm going to pray for some will power. I'm not strong enough to hold it in anymore. He's breaking my defenses to tiny shreds. Everything suddenly feels like rocket science because I don't know what to make of these feelings.

I sigh and close my eyes, listening to the sound of water lightly lapping into the sync. It's rhythmic and relaxing but I don't feel relaxed one bit. I fight the urge to think about the man sitting amidst the crowded dining outside. Probably smiling and feeling elated for knocking mine inside out in one sitting. My heart is pleading for some let-up, I'm completely ashamed of myself.

I know he's bound to have had practice in this area; he must have the gift of seduction down to a fine art. I'm not in denial. Women must be falling at his feet on a regular basis. He's a well-trained master, seeing and taking what he wants. 'You're not that easy, Jo.' I try to convince myself looking into the mirror for any utter of doubt.

I'm startled by the sound of a flushing toilet and I swing around just as the last cubicle opens and an elegantly dressed woman comes out faffing with her blonde hair. She walks towards the sink and gives me a warm knowing smile, I smile back.

Okay, I need to get back out there, make an excuse, and be gone. I wash my hands and grab a paper towel by the sink to dry. Trashing the paper towel as I exit the toilet and make my way back to the table. Oliver is busy scribbling on his phone. He looks up and smiles, and I know now, I must get out of here.

I give myself a mental pep talk as I sit across the table from him, ignoring the fact that he's following my every move. I grab my drink from the table and finish what's left of my drink. A satisfying chill consuming me as I carefully drop the glass on the table.

He flicks me a questioning look. 'Are you okay?'

'Yes, I'm fine.' I answer shortly. He knows. 'I'm sorry but I've got to get back to work, I have unfinished reports to sort out.' I force the confidence out of my voice.

'It's alright, I've got my car waiting outside, ' He stands and makes his way to my side of the table. I notice the wad of twenty-dollar notes underneath a brown, leather book. He already sorted the bill. 'If you don't mind me dropping you off.'

'Oh no, I can wait.'

'I want to drop you off, Jo.' He leans in behind my chair.

'It's fine, I'll just walk back.' I answer bluntly, feeling his hands holding my chair. Please don't insist.