Chapter 4: “Don’t look at me like that.”
1716 Words
The car stopped at a five star hotel located right next to the River Thames. Rachel followed Dalziel Albanese to a private high-class banquet room.
She had been coming to places like this for the last few years, but she still couldn’t get used to the world of blue lights, pink wines, and men of leisure. The lavish life they tried to display was just unreal and grotesque for her.
They had been waiting for fifteen mins when Mr. Fredrik’s secretary called and told them they would be late.
Rachel thought Dalziel Albanese would get angry, but he didn't. He just quietly sat on the sofa, smoking a cigarette. His posture was very elegant, the thin smoke blending with the dim light.
"Mr. Albanese, I’m sorry. I should have called them to confirm the time before we got here."
"It’s ok.” His voice was low, not angry or accusing, just low and cold. She suddenly felt bad for him. At L&R, he was the CEO, the noble man that everybody looked up to. But at some level he was just a normal person. He also had to wait for others and sometimes even defer to others.
After a while, Rachel and her boss finally saw the head of the construction department walking leisurely toward them. Isak Fredrick was a ruddy man in his early 50s with glossy hair and a large body.
"Dalziel! How have you been?"
“Mr. Fredrik!" Dalziel Albanese stood up, smiled and shook his hand.
Rachel also put on a "professional" smile, politely reaching out to shake his hand, "Hello, Mr. Fredrik!"
He took her hand, nodded and smiled. His eyes paused on her face for a few seconds, then swept over her body. They headed towards the table.
Rachel moved to sit next to her boss but she hesitated for a moment. Luckily, Dalziel Albanese pulled the chair next to him, making an extremely elegant invitation.
Sitting by his side, she felt much safer. At least, she was quite sure that her boss was a gentleman, yet she wasn’t too sure about the other guy.
The waiter brought out a fancy whiskey bottle. They were talking while drinking. Dalziel didn’t drink much. He just comfortably leaned his back on the chair, watching Rachel flatter the director of LMC.
More than a half of the bottle was gone. Rachel suppressed the uneasiness that swirled in her stomach, keeping her sweet smiles. She had learned how to deal with the situation, how to manage herself and maintain the performance. But she knew she had to find a way. Mr. Felix used to party, but she hadn’t done this for a while. She tried to catch her boss’ eyes. Under the dim light, his face was not as harsh, but more gentle. Especially his eyes, which seemed to be filled with passion instead of coldness.
Perhaps she had drunk too much, perhaps it was just an illusion. But she couldn’t stop herself from thinking of Flynn. For a moment, she thought he was right there, next to her, protecting her. And suddenly everything was ok.
She frantically broke their eye contact, moving her sight toward the glass of whiskey in her hand.
The LMC manager saw me blankly looking at the glass, asking: "Are you really interested in this whiskey or something?"
Rachel looked up at him in a daze, realizing that his eyes had begun to be dull. He must have drunk as much, if not more than her. She wondered who invented whiskey. And why men like drinking whiskey with women. Rachel never looked at the mirror when she drunk, but she could sense the desire in the man’s eyes.
She raised the glass and laughed deliciously: "A friend told me that whiskey tasted like love with its sharp and acrid aroma.”
He also said, the sweetness which came after always reminded him of her.
After breaking up with Flynn, she had buried herself in work. She always kept herself busy to forget her nostalgia. The tactic seemed to work during the day, but at night , the loneliness ate her up from the inside. And since Dalziel Albanese had appeared, her intense emotions had come back, playing more and more upon her mind.
"Mr. Fredrik, when will our construction project be approved?" Dalziel Albanese finally got down to the main topic at hand. If he hadn’t interjected at the right time, Rachel might not have been able to handle it any longer.
The man cleared his throat: "This matter needs more verification. I think it takes time anyway.”
Seeing Dalziel looking at her, she immediately understood: "Mr. Fredrik, if we have any shortcomings, please let us know. Let us know if there is anything we can do."
Isaak Fredrick looked at her, his voice softened: "Of course. The problem is that your loan’s just a little too big so you may have issues with the mortgage..."
“You know that we can pay off that amount easily.”
"Right…" He smiled.
Dalziel Albanese continued: “Our company builds high-class apartments which are allocated in nice areas and have amazing views. If you are interested in moving, we have some of our most upscale apartments available.”
Isak Fredrik laughed without saying anything, his intention was still very vague to them.
Dalziel pondered for a while, then said: "I recently bought a villa near Pearl Bay. But my capital is a bit tight right now. I want to find another investor. Would you be interested?"
His face finally lit up, he gave them a friendly smile: "Oh? Where is it exactly?”
"If you are interested, my assistant will show you the villa. As long as you like it, the price doesn't matter."
"Well, ok."
Fredrik’s delicate smile made Rachel panic. How can her boss sell her off like that?
But she was not his assistant.
They carried on the formalities for another hour before finally saying goodbye.
Out of the hotel, Rachel’s stomach swelled. A chilly breeze came over, Her dress was very beautiful, but it was completely impractical and didn’t protect her from the coldness of a late autumn night. Dalziel gave her his jacket.
“It’s late. Let me take you home.” Dalziel said.
“It’s ok. I can just take an Uber.”
“I will never leave a woman on her own in the middle of night.”
Rachel knew that she couldn’t win by arguing with him. His driver had gone home two hours earlier so Dalziel had to drive himself. To her concerned face, he laughed: “Don’t worry, I didn’t drink much.”
She gave him a warm smile and said: “Ok. Thank you, Mr. Albanese.”
She sat next to him in the car, wearing his jacket. The faint scent of wood essence kept lingering in her nose. Half of his face was shadowed in darkness, the other half bathed in street lights. She liked the way the dim light softened his figure. It was so quiet in the car she could hear her drunken heavy breathing.
Eyes glued to the road, he broke the silence, “Don’t look at me like that. Don’t you know that it’s dangerous?”
Rachel didn’t know what he meant by “dangerous”. She turned her head to look out of the pitch black window, “I’m sorry.”
Stopping for a while, she continued: “You look very similar to someone I used to know.”
He didn’t respond. She blankly stared in the darkness. Six years.
Six years had passed since the last time they had met. It was a grey afternoon. The yellow oak leaves fell incessantly. The weather was dreary, but his face was more sombre. They kept walking in silence, saying nothing. They had to say goodbye in front of the station. He stood there as she walked toward the train, eyelids covered heavily in tiny white raindrops.
Would they ever see each other again? She had asked this question a thousand times in her mind, not daring to give herself a possible answer. She was lost in the crowd. She thought she would turn back to look at him one last time. She wanted to see him so much she could have died. But she didn’t. Because she would have wanted something more, the thing that she would never have, the thing that turned out to be meaningless at the end, the thing that she didn’t want to forget, and couldn’t anyway. She knew she was a coward, leaning her head against the window, letting the train take her away. As if going away would take away the sadness. As if going away would set her free.
But she never got her freedom. There had been no other man in her life for the past few years. She could never accept someone else. Of course she had had a few dates, but none of them seemed to go anywhere.
Her drunken mind didn’t care if Dalziel wanted to hear about it or not, leaning back in the chair, she bitterly smiled: “But he couldn’t give me what I wanted.”
What she needed was a pure love, a whole heart. He hadn’t given her that. She wanted it to be like it was at the start, when they would dance all night long, talking, making love until the dawn. But too many things had crept into their life.
Dalziel suddenly stopped the car. Hi whole body froze, his hands clutching the steering wheel. Under the street light, green veins rose under his pale skin. They looked at each other. His eyes sparkled with hesitation, pain and things that she didn’t understand. Flynn. She played with his name on the tip of her tongue. Let her get drunk once, let her drown in such a real dream.
- Writer
