The Perfect Arrangement

Chapter 2 - An awkward encounter

I could feel my eyes bulging out of my head as I looked at him. My mouth opened to speak but no words came out. Standing over me was one of the men I’d seen going into the apartment. He wasn’t a big man, albeit I could tell he would be taller than me had I been on my feet. He looked around my age and unlike his friend and my last night’s mistake, he had short, light hair that sat in what I guessed was once an old-fashioned neatly combed hair style. Looking at his appearance, I assumed he hadn’t been home yet; he had on a suit jacket over his white shirt, which had various stains and creases, untucked, and messily hanging down over his trousers with the last three buttons undone. His eyes were dark as they looked down at me, sprawled on the floor probably looking like one hot mess, yet his face held a gentle expression, free of the judgement I’d expected him to see.

“I must say, blondie; I’ve seen a lot of girls come and go from that apartment, but I’ve never seen them hiding in the cupboard to sneak back in later.” He smirked cockily.

My mouth gaped open, I couldn’t believe I’d been seen, and no less seen sprawled out on the floor in a damn storeroom. My stomach felt queasy, and I thought for sure he was going to go grab his friend so he could tease him about his ‘conquest’ who now looked like she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. One strap of my dress had snapped, and I had to fold one arm across my chest to keep it from falling and completely exposing me.

“I wasn’t hiding to get back in, I was hiding to sneak out without being seen.”

“Cinderella style. Interesting. I’m Blake” he said, holding his hand out to me. Although hesitant, I took his hand and allowed him to help me to my feet; it wasn’t like I could possibly be any more embarrassed than I already was. I kept my eyes cast down at the floor, not wanting to meet his eyes, although I could feel them on me, watching me as if I were a bug under a magnifying glass in a science lab. I mumbled my thanks and stood awkwardly in front of him, desperately trying to adjust my dress which had ridden high up my thighs with one hand while my other held the top part in pace.

“And you?” he asked, bringing me suddenly out of my bubble of thoughts and forcing my eyes up to look at him.

“Huh?”

“Your name;” Blake chuckled; “What is it?”

“Oh- Myra”

“Myra..pretty name”

“Thanks” I mumbled, hoping he wouldn’t notice the redness that was rising in my cheeks.

“So, what were you doing on the floor?” Blake asked as he looked around awkwardly for a moment, before reaching beside me and grabbing a three mini bottles of whiskey from the shelf.

“Not all for me” he laughed; “for the other two as well.” He held up the three bottles as if proving his point.

I looked at him in disbelief, for I couldn’t understand why he and his friends would need alcohol at this time in the morning, especially after the heavy drinking we had all done last night.

As if reading my mind, Blake winked at me and said, “hair of the dog. Best thing for a hangover”

Just the thought of drinking after the amount I consumed last night was enough to make me want to vomit. I simply smiled at Blake, hoping he wouldn’t be able to ser the disgust I felt in my face. The entire encounter felt awkward, and I didn’t know what to do or say, I’d even forgotten what I was doing in the storeroom to begin with. I suddenly felt very self-conscious, fearing that he would look at me in disgust the same way I knew the man I’d spent the night with would if he had known who I was. I tugged nervously at the hem of my short, crumpled dress

Blake seemed to be having the same feeling; his eyes searched the room before he looked down at his feet, scratching the back of his neck.

“You still didn’t answer me.” He said.

“Answer what? I don’t recall you asking me anything.”

“What were you doing sitting on the floor?”

“Oh, that” I internally rolled my eyes at my own awkward stupidity. Introverts sure weren’t made for these types of scenarios. “I felt sick.”

Blake laughed, and for a moment I saw sympathy in his eyes. He grabbed another of the miniature bottles and offered it up to me.

“Looks like you could do with a hangover cure too”

When I didn’t take it, he smiled and added that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and we would be stood here in this tiny cupboard all day if I didn’t just accept it. Wishing not to have to spend a minute longer here than I needed to, I took the bottle and shoved it into my bag. His kindness bewildered me, for I wasn’t used to being treated like an actual human-being. The only guys my age that I’d met were always my father’s work colleagues sons, all rich kids with a trust-fund and a playboy attitude the size of Jupiter.

Just then, my phone buzzed.