The Bond

CHAPTER TWO-UNVEILING SECRETS

ALEX

I find myself counting the hours until her shift ends. It’s a crazy evening for her it seems but I still feel a little hurt that she has not once looked my way since, except the one time she nodded at me when she passed by my table. A vulnerable part of me wonders if our connection was something I imagined all on my own. I busy myself with checking my mail on my phone and sipping from my glass of wine while asking myself what exactly I’m doing here. “You’re still here.” I look up to see her pleasant smile and involuntarily, my eyes move up to meet hers.

“I was wondering what Picasso meant when he said that the purpose of life is to give it away. I was hoping you would have answers.” She looks at me with an expression almost like worry and for the first time, she seems short of words. “You came all this way because of that?” She is half laughing, half scoffing as if she’s not sure whether to take me seriously or not. “But really, don’t those words bother you at all?”

“Not in the least, Mr Overthinker.” “I guess I’m the weird one.” I mutter. Her eyes are sparkling with amusement as she nods. “I’m clocking out now.” I look her over. She looks way better with her hair let down and without the gaudy apron. I’m just now realizing how beautiful she is– petite, hazel eyes, slender frame with a surprising curve to it. She looks graceful as a waitress, now she just looks like a piece of art. I find myself wishing for the first time that I could paint. “That’s perfect. Sit and talk with me.” She almost looks alarmed at my suggestion.

“I can’t do that.” “Relax. I’m not asking you to kill anybody.” She looks hastingly at the counter and then back at me, dropping her voice to a whisper. “You’re setting me up for unnecessary attention.” “Surely, Ken isn’t that scary.” “Ha, very funny.” “You can just tell anybody who cares to listen that I’m your friend. Since when is it a crime to sit at a table with your friend in Michigan?” “Do you rich boys think life is so easy?”

“I’m thirty-seven. I’m certainly not a boy.” “You definitely don’t look your age.” “I get that a lot. Now will you sit with me while I share tips on how to look ten years younger?” “Tempting. But no.” “Then let’s go somewhere else. We could grab coffee or something else to drink.” I hold my breath as I say this and I’m surprised when she nods amiably.

“Sounds like a plan.” We exit the restaurant together and while we wait for the valet to bring my car, she shows me some pictures of her work on her phone. “You are really talented.” I’m more than impressed by the creativity of her works but she doesn’t seem to share my enthusiasm. “There are a lot of talented people out there.” She replies dismissively. “But they are not you, Lily.” “So you knew my name all this while.”

“Your name tag looks like a plaque, it impossible not to notice it.” “Fair point,” she nods at me with puckered lips and then freezes dramatically when the valet steps out of my car and hands the keys to me. “No. f*****g. Way. That’s your car?” I smirk. “I’m glad you like it.” “I’m intimidated.” “Oh, please. You don’t look intimidated.” I walk around the car and get the door for her. She slides in and I take the driver’s seat

. “You must be filthy rich. Somehow that had not registered until today.” I’m used to people, even wealthy people fawning over my cars but for the first time, I’m worried that I might seem condescending so I try to change the topic. “So what are your grand plans for disseminating those masterpieces or do you plan to follow in the footsteps of your father van Gogh?” She gives a dry laugh but I can tell she’s not offended.

“This is 2024, nobody glorifies suffering anymore.” “I’m glad you’re not one of those people who believe you have to lose one to gain the other.” “I strongly believe that the winner should take it all.” “You sound so much like a villain. I like it.” She laughs her beautiful laugh once again before turning to me with a serious expression. “Please say you’re not a drug lord.” “Is that where you draw the line?” “I was hoping you could introduce me to the business.” “Unfortunately, I’m only a big time tech entrepreneur. Are you disappointed?” “Only a little bit.” But despite her best efforts to hide how she really feels, I can see the awe on her face. I park in front of a small Cafe and we go in for some cake and iced Americano. While I sip my drink, I can feel her eyes trained on me, but before I can say something to deflect her attention, she sighs and sits back on her chair. “Do you think van Gogh was trying to die poor?”

“I highly doubt that.” She sighs again and drums on the table as if deciding if she can trust me. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.” She smiles tightly. “You read minds now?” And then, she leans forward as she draws hesitant lines on the table with her fingers. “I started painting when I was seven, you know. I’ve always had these big dreams of making it big and being known worldwide. Well, I still do. But sometimes the doubts creep in.” She smooths her hair slowly as if embarrassed by what she just said.

“Everyone has doubts, Lily.” “Yeah, yeah.” She waves a hand breezily. “I’m twenty-six now and lately, I can’t keep the negative voices out. What if I never make it? What if?” Her eyes are so sad as she speaks that it makes my chest ache. Without thinking, I grab her hands and squeeze gently. “You’re not the only one that feels that way.” “What does a billionaire know about doubts and dreams?” There is something about the way her voice sounds and the way she’s staring at me that makes it easier to say things I’ve never blurted out before.

“A lot actually. It sucks being able to afford whatever you want and still feeling empty inside, you know. Everyday feels like a search for something that’s missing, something I can’t put a finger on. I have doubts and fears too, fears that I’ll never truly be satisfied.” We sit in silence for what feels like an eternity just staring at each other and smiling and sniffing back tears and laughing and watching our coffee get warm.