MY BOYFRIEND’S FATHER IS MY LOVER

CHAPTER 2: TAKE ME THERE

Ella's steps were guided more by the rhythm of her thoughts than by her senses, as they led her to the dimly lit bar located in the hotel just by the side of the reception. It was definitely a cool bar and the love tunes they played didn’t suit her situation. But in trying to get over what she had just seen, she felt she needed the help of a drink.

The air inside was thick with the scent of alcohol and the hum of distant conversations. She noticed that everyone seemed busy with their partners or just having a conversation. At first, she thought they were all looking at her as she walked inside, but after some time she could see that almost everybody was just having fun.

Chubby had said that bars are like the school's night party. Unlike what Chubby said, the bar Ella is in right now does not look anywhere like what they had in school. The conversations were coordinated and in low voices. The music suits the color of the bar. It was some nice love tunes, though if given the chance, she would have asked them to do without the music because of the way she was feeling.

“Come on Ella, you can do this.” Ella thought to herself. Ella had never drunk alcohol in her life, even when Steve took her out, she would go for a sweet wine.

She looked around until she was sure no one was looking at her as she sought refuge in the anonymity of the dimly lit space, hoping that whatever drink she took would make her numb and remove the edges of betrayal that she felt. She was at that point that she would try anything to remove this thing that occupied her mind.

She walked up to the bartender and stood there without saying a word. She did not know what type of drink to ask for. It was the bartender who had to solve the situation for her.

“I could give you something nice or something that could define your situation,” he said.

“In that case, I am going to need something that will make me forget the awful day I am having,” Ella replied.

The bartender, a middle-aged man with a weary smile, poured Ella a drink without any more words. As the amber liquid filled the glass, Ella's mind was still haunted by the images of Room 201. She couldn't shake the feeling of being adrift, betrayed by the person she thought knew her best.

She had told Steve on so many occasions that she did not like the way Prisca looked at him or acted even though she was around Steve, but Steve would rather give a flimsy excuse about how it meant nothing, and he was solely for her. He would conclude by asking her if she did not trust him. The more Ella thought about the incident the more it weakened her. She wondered why she was not even crying.

She took two shots and asked the bartender if she could get something else she could take to her seat.

“Something lighter or something heavier,” inquired the Bartender.

“Do I look like I need something lighter?” she said with a weird smile.

In a secluded corner, Mark sat alone at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey. His eyes, usually sharp and discerning, softened as he observed Ella, and he thought to himself “That girl must be a bad drinker or have never drank before.”

Mark continued doing what he was doing. It was one of his hotels and he wondered if Steve would manage it well as he was thinking of giving it to him even when he knew his son would never want anything from him, He had not seen Steve for almost a year.

So when the school called to say that they would love to have him to be the visiting lecturer this year, he was glad. He was planning to be in town for a few months, so he was willing to accept it. It was for six months. He had not told his son though he told him he was coming.

Visiting clubs and bars was one of the ways he reset his brain and had fun. Since his wife, Steve's mother, left, he has had only a very few dates. He was shocked that his life had grown so busy that he could hardly notice any lady, even when they were attracted to him, but not the one sitting a few tables from him. Ella caught his interest.

Intrigued by the sadness etched across her face, he couldn't help but feel drawn to her. Why would she be this sad? What could have made her this angry? That was the question Mark Peterson kept asking himself.

He felt so distracted by Ella’s presence that he could not get the simple task of sending an email to his office to notify them that he was in town and that he was back. No one knew he was in town except for his son. Mark was lonely but felt Ella needed help.

Ella, lost in her thoughts, noticed Mark's gaze. The exchange of glances felt like a silent acknowledgment of shared pain. Without a conscious decision, she found herself walking toward him, the weight of her heartache pushing her into a stranger's orbit.

She could notice that she was not so certain of her steps. She stood for a while and her gaze still set on Mark’s table, who at this time felt uneasy about what was happening as he did not want to draw attention to himself. He quickly went to Ella, thrust out his hand, and accompanied her to his seat, guiding her steps.

"Mind if I join you?" she asked, her voice revealing the vulnerability she tried to conceal as he waved his hand to the seat beside him, close to the small round table. Ella was thrilled at Mark’s kind gesture as she grabbed the empty seat beside him, and was glad at Mark's tacit invitation.

"Not at all. It looks like you could use some company," Mark said.

They began to talk, the bar's ambient noise providing a shield for their conversation. Ella found solace in the anonymity of the dimly lit space, and Mark, surprisingly, found himself captivated by Ella's intellect and the fire within her eyes.

As they shared stories, Ella's initial intention to drown her sorrows morphed into something different. An ember of revenge smoldered within her, fueled by the desire to regain control, even if just for a fleeting moment. Mark, oblivious to the storm brewing in Ella's mind, was drawn to her authenticity and the depth of her emotions.

The evening wore on, and the dim lights of the bar cast shadows that mirrored the complexities of their unfolding connection.

Ella leaned forward towards Mark as her lips grazed Mark's ear, and she whispered an invitation masked in seduction. "Take me to your room."

Mark's eyes widened, surprise and hesitation flickering across his face. He searched Ella's eyes for any sign of doubt or regret. Ella, however, met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability, silently urging him to be her accomplice in this act of revenge.

"Are you sure about this?" Mark asked, his voice filled with a mix of concern and intrigue.

Ella, fueled by the desire to reclaim power, nodded without hesitation. "I'm sure."

With that, Mark paid the tab and led Ella out of the bar. The night air was cool and carried a sense of unreality as they navigated through the beautiful hallway of the hotel to the penthouse.

What they did not know was that this path they decided to take would ignite a tale that is fraught with unspoken intentions and shared secrets, a momentary escape from the harsh reality that awaited them both at the break of dawn.