GRACE.
The telephone rang the minute I stepped into my house. I had only just returned from dropping Laurel at school.
Everything seemed back to normal till I lifted the telephone from its cradle.
Jody hadn’t noticed me yet. She was sprawled on the love seat sofa in my tiny sitting room, distracted by those South Korean dramas on her mobile that made her cry and laugh at the same time.
The caller on the telephone had a modern American accent. He asked if he was speaking with Grace Jones and I’d have concluded the call as spam until he mentioned ‘The Man I Saved Last Week’.
“Why should I meet him?” I had asked the caller impatiently, standing with my back resting against the wall behind me.
“Are you not curious to know how the person you saved is faring?” he asked, then went ahead without waiting for a reply, “What’s the point of saving him if you wouldn’t be interested in his final outcome, if he recovered or not?”
I wanted to tell him he sounded stupid. That you saved someone doesn’t mean you’re indebted to know how they turn out. That’s their family’s concern not mine. I wanted to slam the receiver back in place and continue my daily routine, but somehow I found myself still holding on. “Who are you to him?” I had asked the man.
“His personal assistant.”
Oh, I thought
“Tell your boss I said no.”
“Please, Ma’am,” the man said. “He only wants to fix his mistake.”
I could sense the desperation in this P. A’s voice, even if it was oozing out softly from my receiver. He was right. I should meet up with the man. Not because I nee
I cleared my throat and asked the assistant to make the appointment.
Since I was the one calling the shots, I made sure the venue of our meeting would be close to my turf, an open space with lots of people. You could never trust people these days.
I gave him the place and time in case my indecisiveness took the better part of me and make me want to change my mind again.
I hung up on him.
“Who was that?” Jody asked, catching me off guard. “What kind of call would make your face go sour like that?”
“It’s the man I helped last week.”
“No shit! He called you?” Jody’s eyes widened like saucers as she dropped her phone and directed her full attention towards me.
“No,” I said. “It’s his personal assistant I just spoke with.”
“Personal assistant?” she rolled her eyes. I practically slumped on the bigger sofa opposite her. “But damn, Gracie!” she added. “I think you saved a big fish. It sounds like the guy is moneyed!” she shrieked.
“Not sure about that, Jody.” I grumbled. “Besides, I don’t need his money. See I have a lot of work today and that’s why you are here. To help me? Remember?”
“The guy asked to meet?” said Jody, ignoring my question, leaning out from the sofa with eyes shimmering and imbued with curiosity.
“Yes. He did.”
“When? Where?”
“I told his PA to fix us up at Dior’s Diner, one hour from now.”
“What’re you still waiting for?” Judy yelped. “Go in there and change right away! Urgh, I dislike Dior’s Diner. How can you invite someone that important to a café with zero packaging?”
“Who says he’s important?” I asked as Jody dragged me up from the sofa, pulling me into the only room in my apartment. “Stop jumping into conclusions, Jody,” I added breathlessly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you sort out the articles before you return. Trust me.”
I wasn’t really planning for this. I had called her here to help me out with some articles that could be used for research in the story I was working on. And being an assistant to the Editor-In-chief of a famous magazine here in London, Jody, my best friend was the best option.
Now she was pushing me to a meeting I wasn’t sure of. NK would have stopped me from going, I was sure of that.
Why did that stranger ask to meet when he ran off like that in the middle of the night anyway? Maybe he was finally aware of how weird and dumb his action was.
Time was ticking by, so I impulsively selected a yellow jumpsuit that looked really good on me but changed my mind after deciding that I wasn’t going there to give any impression. A blue jean trousers and a simple tank top with my knee length grey jacket did it for me.
I stepped back into the sitting room to meet Jody’s disapproving gaze. I expected it, so it couldn’t alter my resolve anyway.
She knew I wasn’t going to change my mind, so she let me be.
“If you don’t see me after three hours, call the police.” I told her with a seriousness that made her convulse with laughter.
“Tell them I was headed to Dior’s Diner, and I should be back in time to get my child from school.” I continued ignoring her high-pitched laughter and the mocking scowl on her face.
I took my time putting on my shoes, dabbing a thin layer of powder to my pale face and brushing my naturally annoying wavy hair. People always told me how they wished they had it without knowing how much I struggled with it.
Ten minutes later, I walked over to Dior’s Diner, confused as to why I was seeing the closed sign on the front door on a Monday morning.
A red-haired girl in the counter asked me if I made an appointment here with some men and when I said yes, even though I was still confused, she directed me to the extreme end of the shop space.
She explained in a conspiratorial tone that they rented the shop for three hours to maintain privacy. Perhaps Jody was right; there’s the high possibility of the person being wealthy after all, I admitted to myself before making my way towards two men sitting at the end of the restaurant.
As I shuffled nearer to them, they both got up from their seats. For a moment, I felt important. A tall, bronzed, loose-limbed man stepped forward from the table.
At first, the person I was seeing was Connor Shelby of the Shelby Empire, a multi-billion dollar estate that was majorly into real estate and oil and gas. It was safe to call him the wealthiest young person in London. Added to the fact that he was also an Alpha, the Alpha of Lumia’s Pack.
One of the most talked about person in England. They went ahead to tag him, ‘London’s most wanted Bachelor.’
I was probably at the wrong place.
“Sorry,” I said and bowed my head. “I was meant to meet someone else here, Alpha. I guess he isn’t here cos I’ve just been told you booked the whole place for the next three hours.”
I was about turning to leave when he said, “Stop. You’re Grace, and you’re at the right place. I am the one you saved that night. You probably didn’t recognize me because of the multiple bruises on my face.”
I was breathless now, lacking words to say. I only stared at him.
He was casually but expensively dressed in fawn trousers, intricately ironed white shirt and a suede jacket, as different from the city types as it was possible.
Of all the millions of citizens in the city to save? A billionaire alpha!
Connor Shelby looked at me. From my vintage point few meters from their table, my eyes met his steel-grey eyes. It was a timeless look of recognition, of deep awareness. We were total strangers, yet we stared at each other with the intimacy of long lost lovers.
Once before, I had experienced a similar look, and to discover I was susceptible to another frightened the life out of me. I wasn’t the green and gullible girl anymore, but there was no mistaking the sensations flooding over me, the sudden rush of excitement, the leaping pulses, the thumping heart and glowing warmth.
“Grace?” said the alpha, startling me from my reverie. He motioned with his hands for me to sit on one of the free chairs around his table. I awkwardly approached and, all of a sudden he said, “wait a minute” and started looking piercingly at me.
That was weird.
His cropped, light brown hair waved crisply, the ends bleached white by the sun, and his eyes reflected his inner power. They were that arresting shade of grey that had the X-ray effect of looking into and through me now.
Was he experiencing the same feelings or-
“Miss Budweiser…” he muttered, gaping dumb struck at me and that broke the spell.
What the hell, I thought and then realization lurched at me like a strong sea wave. He was my mate, he was the person holding the other part of my soul, he was…
“Mr. Chardonnay…” I uttered and then started to retreat backwards.
What a sick twist of fate, I thought. This was the man who abandoned me when I needed him the most, disappeared from existence.
The same man whose family took the only thing I got from my parents, the same man whom I saved when I should have let him die!
But he was still the same man who was the father of my child.
The bitter reality stung me, and for a few seconds, I couldn’t take in any air. It felt as though all the air in my lungs had been squeezed out.
A strand of tears fell off my eyes. I turned my back swiftly and more rolled down, causing my view to be blurred.
“Grace, wait.”
His unmistakably English voice sounded distant but caused me to freeze momentarily.
He said my name after seven years. But it was too late now, I thought as I dashed out of the café, into the street and hopped into the first cab I saw.
I knew the cost of the cab was going to eat deep into the month budget, but I couldn’t care less, I just had to leave this place before he caught up with me again.
I sobbed all the way home. For the first time wishing I would take back the hands of time. Wishing I didn’t go to the bar with my friends, and I didn’t get up to get more drinks so I wouldn’t bump into this man that ruined my life.
If wishes were horses.