Episode 4: Your Only Choice
1303 Words
Sophia’s POV
"Emily, come on,”
I try to gain her forgiveness. After the show with the stranger two days ago, she has been giving me cold shoulders.
“You can't be this mad, really.”
"Really?” she rolls her eyes and shakes her head as if no redemption for me.
I puff, tired of having to win her over. I left home to find peace, not quarrel at every given whim.
“Fine, what did I do, tell me and I'll apologize.”
She turns around, cleaning already wiped surfaces.
“Clients will start dropping in... Fine, I'm sorry,”
“Why did you embarrass that young man in such a way?”
I sigh softly, turning around and trying to avoid the conversation. I had always suspected that this was the reason for her attitude.
“No, Ava, you don't get to do that,” she holds my arm and turns me so that I can face her. "You want us to talk about this, and we would.”
“Guilty, Emily,” I clasp my head, unable to crawl myself from her grip. "He disrespected me...” I trail off.
"Did he touch you?”
"No,”
“Did he ask for s*x?”
“No...”
“Okay?” She hasn't seen any wrong in what he did.
Maybe he wasn't wrong after all, I was just taking my revenge.
"You should apologize to him.” She concludes.
Yeah, I look and sound stupid right now.
"Look, I'm so sorry Emily, I shouldn't have handled it that way and caused you a query letter when you have no idea about it.” I wrap up my explanation in a sentence.
“Hmm,” she smacks her lips and continues cleaning.
I smile, knowing she is a liveable person. And I know that she has forgiven me.
"Thanks love, “ I mouth, before getting busy.
“Piña Colada for me, Gin & Tonic for the lady,”
I admire the cheerful couple in front of me as I serve them their different flavors of cocktails. Blending the recipes in a perfect mix, I pour it into a glass that's quarter-filled with ice cubes, and top it with the paper parasol, adding a touch of whimsy.
“Here,”
I slip their order to them, waiting for them to be done whispering sweet nothings in their ears before they confirm their method of payment.
“Thanks,”
The young man places his card on the counter, not even enquiring about the cost.
“Your receipt, have a lovely time,” I smile sheepishly, getting done with serving them.
This should be me, except that I'm on the run for my sanity. I want to experience love and comfort, not delving into a marriage because my father wants me to.
While the couple leaves the counter to find a better table, they intertwine their hand and sip from one another’s drink.
“Can you pass me a glass?” Emily’s voice rings in my ear.
“What glass? For champagne, cocktail, rum...”
My mouth opens without a word coming out.
“Champagne,”
A man walks in, wearing a black hoodie, I can stake all I have on it that he looks familiar.
“Ava?”
Another joins him as their eyes hurriedly roam around the club.
Crap!
My father’s men?! How?!
Slowly, I turn, holding the Champagne glass like I’d normally act. If I turn and sprint for the door, it will draw their attention and I will eventually get caught.
“Here,”
I hand it over to Emily and begin to slip out of my apron. This is the time to go away and never return.
“Ava, are you okay? You're acting weird.” She states her observation. "Where are you up to?”
My brain spirals in circles, I need to come up with a brilliant idea to not give myself away. I shrug off the apron and set it on the stool.
“You’re right, I need to apologize... to him,” I add, rushing out before she can say a word, but I did see her smile.
Using the narrow passage, I hurry down the hall, heading towards the back door for an emergency exit.
Phew!
The back view of one of the men almost makes me pee on my pants. I swiftly close it and find a perfect place to hide.
If I hide in the restroom, they may come here to search for me... Following my intuition, I run for the storage.
Pulling my phone out, I dial Charlotte. She picks on the first ring.
“You’re right, father found me,” my breathing is hushed.
“What?” she tries not to scream. "Are you okay?”
“I'm not safe and you might not be able to reach me for days...”
“But I need to know that you're safe...”
“You’re his link.” I sigh. I can't blame her.
When I ran off, I changed my numbers, so it's only logical that they bug her phone because we both are like fire and ice, we can't stay off each other’s hair for a minute.
I hear noises of people approaching.
“Oh my god.” She scoffs. "What are you going to...”
"I need to go." I end the call before she can say another word.
Switching off my phone to block their tracker, I slip it into my pocket and remain as quiet as I can.
The odd smell of rum and strong alcohol almost makes me gag. Jeez! In here, the smell isn't as fresh as a vineyard.
"She's not in here,” I hear them murmur to themselves.
Pressing my hands to my mouth, I hold my breath. I wait in the storage for a long time and when their voices die down, I sneak out of the storage.
Using the back door once more, peeping to see that the area is clear before slipping out.
I can't go to my house, or remain in the club, or just stay in the open. I don't even have any money on me to rent a hotel for the night.
“Argh!” I kick the tire of a random vehicle, livid to my bones.
A nasty idea pops up in my head, without giving it a second thought, I cross to the other side of the street and into the guest house directly opposite us.
“Hello,” the receptionist’s voice stops me from sneaking upstairs.
“Hello,” I wave to the receptionist, managing a calm demeanor.
"Hi, welcome to Winston’s guest house, how may I be of service to you?”
“I came here last week to see a friend in room B, 20/21, I need to see him urgently.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but it's urgent.”
“I'm sorry, ma'am, but you'll have to wait and I have to confirm,”
I stay put, waiting for her to get distracted, and when she does, I run upstairs to the stranger’s room.
She calls for security, and I won't stop running. Getting to his door, I start banging on it profusely.
The hotel's security comes from my left and right side.
“Stop right there!” A security man yells at me.
I don't stop banging, because my life truly depends on it.
I'm about to be doomed. One. Two...
Room 20/21 door opens to show the stranger with an angry gaze.
“Let's do it,” I say before he can ask them to throw me out.
“Leave us,” he tells the security. "What do you want?” he says when we are alone.
“Let's get married...tomorrow.”
- Writer
