A Love Restored 79
(Now)
The sweet smell of my strawberry flavored oatmeal that I had been having for two whole days wafted up my nose. I had topped it with fruit and granola and I was so excited to eat it. Honeysuckle from the estate gardens tangled with the tang of exhaust fumes, a peculiar smell of city life. On our usual lunch seat, a weathered stone bench by the wrought–iron gates. I awaited Liam to join me for our lunch break.
He arrived like a sonic boom, laughter splitting the air before his hulking form did. Sunlight glinted off his security uniform, transforming him into a grinning monolith with a beard that threatened to swallow his face.
“Afternoon, Flora!” he boomed, voice capable of clearing pigeons from the roof at fifty paces. He brandished a plastic tub, a suspicious yellow liquid oozing around the edges. “Got your favorite today- tuns and pickle surprise!
I raised an eyebrow, the picture of skepticism. That….didn’t sound or look appetizing at all. “Surprise is right,” I quipped, peering cautiously. Inside the tub, was a goopy paste, “What’s the surprise ingredient this time? Mustard? Wasabi paste?”
Liam chuckled, a rumble in his chest rising. “Just a touch of my grandma’s secret pickle juice,” he winked. “Tastes like fish and……. regret.“
I grimaced at his food choice. Ill take your word for it. The tuna’s enough of an adventure for one day.”
We settled, the clinking of cutlery a rhythmic counterpoint to the silent hum in the estate. Liam devoured his pickle–infused lunch with gusto, each bite punctuated by a satisfied grunt. I nibbled on my oats.
“You know, I’d have made you lunch, too. If you’d asked.”
“Remember
er what happened the last time you made me lunch?” he questioned. I winced at the memory of Felix yelling at both of us when he had spotted us eating together.
“I mean….my oats are much nicer than whatever you are eating
“Hey!” He admonished, “Don’t badmouth my family recipe.”
1 laughed to myself, and he chuckled, too.
“So,” Liam said, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, “tell me about the big move. How’s living in the big house with the fancy folks?”
I sighed. “It’s… different,” I admitted. “The mansion is too empty for so few people to be living there. Last night, I went to the kitchen for some water, and it was so empty and silent and dark, I got spooked and ran away.”
He laughed, “it’s always the big houses with a single, weird man that are haunted.”
He leaned in close and whispered in my ear, his breath smelled of the weird fish and pickle concoction, “Did you see the white lady yet?”
My eyes widened. “The white lady?”
He nodded, “She walks the gardens at night. Flora, if you see her, make sure to close your eyes. And don’t! Runt”
My mouth was agape. He cracked a smile. “Oh my God, Liam! Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”
He laughed for very long while I watched him, annoyed.
He finally stopped laughing, and said between wheezes, “No but really, how’s living with the boss?”
“Like walking on eggshells.”
Liam snorted. “Eggshells? More like Persian rugs, right?”
“Oh, don’t I know it,” I rolled my eyes. “I feel like I am always cleaning. I clean one room on Tuesday, then another on Wednesday. Then another on Thursday. Then I have to clean the first one again. Its nice to have an open house with lots of light and ventilation, but that also brings in so muchy
Liam’s eyes widened. “Seriously? That much?”
“So, how did this happen?” he asked after a bit. “The whole….move. So sudden. You never mentioned the possibility before.”
hesitated, “Um, I had a reContent is property © NôvelDrama.Org.
a rent issue. And Mr. Corsino was nice enough to offer this
arrangement.”
He nodded, like he was deep in thought. “That’s nice. How did he get to know?”
A prickle of irritation began to needle at my amusement. Liam’s questions, initially innocent and fun, seemed to be edging towards the intrusive. His Curiosity about the my new living situation felt less like friendly banter and more like… well, like interrogation.
“I told him.” I answered simply.
“So,” Liam drawled, wiping his hands on a tissue, “What about Mr. Corsino, then? Are you like…friends now?”
I hesitated, the sweet oatmeal suddenly turning tasteless in my mouth. “He’s my employer,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “He’s very kind.”
Liam’s gaze sharpened, a glint of something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Kind, huh? And good–looking, I suppose? Like one of movie stars? Or a model, maybe.
My annoyance flared. “I don’t pay much attention to the way he looks, Liam,” I said coolly. “Besides, It’s not exactly appropriate for me to be⠀⠀⠀ commenting on my employer’s appearance.”
The playful glint in Liam’s eyes vanished, replaced by a flicker of something colder. He shrugged, but the inquisitive look in his remained. “I saw you hanging out with him, that night. In the shed”
My heart began to race at the memory the sweet moment we had shared, the closeness, the threat he had issued me. I shivered at the thought.
“He just wanted me to clean it. I snapped.
Liam’s expression changed,
The shift in Liam’s demeanor caught me off guard, the jovial atmosphere evaporating like spilled soda on a hot sidewalk. An awkward silence settled between us, punctuated only by the chirping of unseen birds in the branches above.
Hesitantly, I reached for my water bottle, taking a long swig to ease the sudden dryness in my throat. “Look,” I started, choosing my words with newfound caution, I’m sorry for snapping. I just…don’t want you or anyone else to get the wrong idea. Mr. Corsino and I are the furthest from friends, Or anything else.”
My voice, I realized, had taken on a defensive edge, a stark contrast to the earlier banter. Liam studied me for a moment, his dark eyes unreadable. Then, with a sigh that seemed to deflate him like a balloon, he leaned back on the bench
“You’re right,” he mumbled, fiddling with the empty pickle tub. “Sorry, I got carried away. Sometimes I forget boundaries, you know? Security guard by day, gossip monger by lunchtime.”
His self–deprecating tone did little to ease the tension that had gripped the air. I wasn’t sure if I believed his apology, or if the sudden shift in his demeanor was anything more than a well–practiced act.
1
I wanted to ask him about the receipt for the gun i had seen that day in his name. But I stayed quiet about it. Something in me prevented me from asking the questions. Some kind of self–preservation.
So, any big plans for the holiday, Liam? I asked, not in the least curious about his July 4th celebrations, just trying to fill the silence.
He looked at me, “Not really,” he admitted, scuffing his shoe against the cobblestone. “Thought about maybe throwing a little cookout down by the river. Just a few friends, some burgers and fireworks, you know?”
The casual tone of his sentence tugged at something inside me. A flicker of longing for a normal, friendly celebration. I wished I had friends I could have casual parties with.
“Sounds nice,” I said, the words catching in my throat. “Would it be… I mean, would it be okay if I came?”
Liam’s head snapped up, his eyes widening. “You? Seriously?”
I felt a blush creep up my neck. “Well, yes. If I’m not intruding, of course. Actually, never initud, forget it
His surprise dissolved into a genuine smile, brighter than the fireworks he mentioned. “Intruding? Flora, you’d be doing me a favor! It’s goin
1 guing to be a
Chapter 79
little chaotic, trust me, but all the more fun for it. I was going to invite you, I just didn’t know if you would say yes.”
Td love to come,” I said, the smile mirroring his own. Just promise you won’t let me burn the burgers.”
I that was very loud, “No promises, Flora. You know what, I’ll do the cooking. You have fun and look pretty…”
He laughed, a booming sound t
He trailed off, grinning. I nodded. “I’ll bring the beers, to do my little part
“It’s a deal, then!” He exclaimed, grinning at me.
The rest of our lunch passed in a subdued silence. Liam finished his pickle surprise with uncharacteristic haste, his usual boisterous mood replaced by a brooding stillness.
As my alarm signaling the end of our break rung on my phone, a sense of relief washed over me. 1 stood
Liam’s.
up, gathering my things, my eyes avoiding
“Well,” I mumbled, forcing a smile that fo
felt more like a grimace, thanks for lunch, Liam, See you tomorrow.”
He met my gaze, a flicker of something remorse, danger, I couldn’t tell- dancing in his dark eyes. “Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “See you tomorrow, Flora.”
Just as I was about to get up from the bench, we saw Felix’s car pull in.
Chapter Comments
Tracey Bid Price.
the mood swings are making me dizzy!
Valeri Burnet Lauletta
for a girl who didn’t trust him she’s sure is putting herself out there
VIEW ALL 2 S +
SHARE
POST
9