Loving The Flame

Chapter Eight

The air around me is charged with the scent of adrenaline and determination. It's almost suffocating, like a heavy and musky cologne. I declared war to quench my thirst for vengeance. I said let the game begin, but the game is claiming that nothing is going to be as easy as my anticipation. My position at work is the most unstable scale that I sit on, and that lunch date was meant to make it clear.

I couldn’t find my way around the huge wall he put up between us. The conversation from that day was clearly a warning, as if he were telling me to never feel at ease regarding my position in his company. I think this is something that might even cost me my relationship with Olivia. After all, it will be a day that will forever be etched in my memory—a day that I figure out who is a friend and who is a foe.

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He stood by his car, with his security personnel positioned behind him, patiently awaiting my arrival. Perhaps it was the idea that consumed my thoughts in that moment, but my heart was pounding unusually, as if it longed to break free from the confines of my ribcage. I thought I was going on a genuine date.

"Miss Williams," he said, warmly welcoming me as he made way for me to step into the car after his security had opened the door. "Please," he insists, gesturing for me to go ahead of him.

"Thanks; Alora will suffice," I said, hoping to facilitate easier communication. With a smile, he entered the car and immediately answered a conference call that took my second strike for conversation. I was at a loss for words, but that phone call filled the entire duration of the ride to his new hotel. It was a lengthy conversation that seemed to leave him feeling let down. Upon reflection, the conversation during lunch seemed to mirror that call, or at least I hope it did.

We were the only ones in the restaurant, and as we arrived, a woman walked up to me and took my coat, and I followed his extended walk to a well-dressed table for two. He was quite the gentleman; he pulled my chair for me, and as he made his way around the table to sit in front of me, I took the time to look around to see the unique interior design.

The restaurant feels fresh, which reminds me of his office—a torn between nature and modernity. The scent of fresh greenery and wood wafts through the air, mingled with the enticing aroma of delicious food being prepared in the kitchen. The ceiling was decorated with elegant vine plants cascading down, while rustic chandeliers dangled delicately from above, creating a stunning visual amidst the lush foliage. The tables and chairs exude a sense of transparency, beautifully complementing the warm and inviting atmosphere of the restaurant with its yellow birch wood flooring.

"I suppose," he replied. He shook his head, as if snapping out of the mood he was in. "I can tell you're a fan," he remarked, making a statement.

"It definitely feels refreshing." I agreed, acknowledging it. "It's truly stunning," I remarked, a smile gracing my lips.

“I bought this place from a family, and I didn’t want to change anything about it,” he explained. “Well, except the chairs and tables,” he tilted to his left. He kept his eyes on me until a waitress came to our table, at which point he quickly turned his attention to her while grinning warmly.

"Are you prepared to place your order?" She glanced at each of us, one after the other.

“Sure, go ahead,” he said to me, politely requesting that I order first. I accepted the menu from her with a smile, feeling quite satisfied. I glanced at the menu and caught a glimpse of where he was looking. He was silently perusing the menu in his hand.

“I’d like Salmon salad with sesame dressing,” Whispering softly, I voice my want.

“Oh no." His words filled me with a sense of nervousness, and I couldn't help but furrow my brow in confusion, silently questioning his meaning. "You know, sometimes it's important to give yourself a break from your strict diet and indulge in something delicious," he suggested.

“I usually have this." I lightly shrugged, prompting him to set his menu down on the table.

"Fetch me the finest bottle of wine and a succulent grilled beef stake," he commanded. “I must say, the beef dishes at this place are truly exceptional—juicy, perfectly cooked, humm...satisfying in every way,” he remarked, and my mouth watered in anticipation of a delicious meal. I experienced a slight sense of challenge, yet I also desired to maintain composure. “Besides, you are my first guest to be here; before it opens, I think you should go for something you’ve been craving." It was certainly alluring, and I've been eagerly craving mushroom sauce for steak. I shut my eyes and let my imagination take over, savouring every aspect of the food, from its enticing aroma to the way the cream delicately melted in my mouth.

"I've been yearning for mushroom sauce for stake," I remarked, with a pleased grin gracing my lips as I savoured the mental image.

“I can only imagine how it feels to be in your imagination,” he said, and I opened my eyes only to see him see me in ways like I had never been seen before.

"Um," I said, clearing my throat as I averted my gaze.

"You heard the woman," he said, his gaze locked on me.

As we waited for our meal to arrive, there was a silence between us. He unabashedly stared at me while I glanced around the restaurant. Whenever our eyes met, I couldn't help but smile or let out a sigh. After some time, the food was brought to the table, and the restaurant's ambiance underwent a complete transformation, making my stomach growl with hunger. So, I eagerly dove into my meal, and he followed suit. Wine had already been poured, and every bite was heavenly.

"By the way, I didn't need it," he casually mentioned in the midst of our meal, causing me to glance up in his direction. "The report," he said, clearing his throat. "I was well informed," he stated, causing me to set down my utensils on the table.

"Then what's the purpose of my presence?" I inquired with a hint of disappointment. "I was genuinely excited to attend the event today. I have been putting my heart and soul into preparing for it."

“From what I heard about you, I have no doubt. I am completely confident in your abilities. Regardless, your colleague will be presenting your effort," he assured me, and I struggled to contain my anger.

"You're the one in charge; I understand," I said, raising my gaze to meet his. I still remember the intense anger I felt—that tight sensation in my stomach. "This is your company, and I am your employee. I may be expected to fulfil your request, but I prefer to carry out my duties diligently," I stated, causing him to pause and regard me with astonishment. He set down his utensils and furrowed his brow.

“No need to feel threatened,” he said as he displayed a smile with a ghost-like existence on his lip; he didn’t want to show it, but he couldn’t contain it at the same time. “I don’t mean to disappoint you,” he added. “You see,” he said, leaning on the table with his elbow. “By now, your other colleagues would be informed, and I wanted to let you know myself,” he said, shaking his head. “Consider this as if I wanted to show you my respect for your hard-working contribution ever since you started with us.”

“What is this about?” I asked, feeling concerned. At that point, all I cared about was knowing the reason why I was supposed to be there in the first place.

“The team wanted to give all three of you the chance to prove yourself,” he said, and I inhaled deeply. I held my breath in my chest, looking at him in shock. “You are right, I am the boss; I can be the game changer, but the truth is, I value teamwork, and I wanted to let everyone in on my decision-making,” he said.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered as I shook my head slowly.

“Alora,” he called my name, and I looked up into his eyes. “You should know you are my choice,” he said, but he seemed concerned about me. “I wanted you to be the face, but I want you to prove me right,” he said, and I swallowed hard. “You are already on the right track.” He looked around and turned his unwavering attention back on me. “But even though I don’t want things to be this way, your competition against your colleagues isn’t over; the slightest mistake you make will put you off the job, opening the opportunity for the other two,” he said.

"I am doing good." I tried to defend myself.

"You are; everyone is impressed by your dedication, but I encourage you to become even stronger and more proactive. Yes, you have potential, but I expect you to strive for excellence. Prove my choice is the right one and maintain your seat in this company," he stated.

It's quite a weight that has been unexpectedly placed on me. I feel honoured but challenged at the same time. I thought I started my fight, but it was barely a scratch on the surface.

***

"My God!" Olivia's disappointment is evident as she shakes her head upon realising that Liam is the one waiting for her in the office she is summoned to.

“I am your boss,” he asserts, causing her to halt her departure from his office. She turns around, her eyes narrowing at him and a faint smile playing on her lips, clearly expressing her scepticism. "Or your boss's son," he smirks, as if implying his authority within the company knows no bounds.

"What is it?" She angrily barks at him and returns to his desk, shooting him a look of utter disgust. "What is it that you want?"

"You look good," he remarked, causing her to scoff and cross her arms defiantly. “I mean, you should know I believe you're deserving of that throne,” he suggests, and she suddenly bursts out in laughter.

“Oh boy,” she exhales as she looks at him. She leans on the table with her palms, getting a little closer to him. “Are you that desperate to hurt her?” she asks, but her smile on her face is fading. “You can’t face her with your guilt, right? Knowing you can't have her back hurts you so much that you want to hurt her for no good reason at all,” she says as if she is thinking out loud, and she turns around to walk out of his office.

“I know all about the new game for the throne,” he said, and she stopped. “You probably heard about it this morning, and I highly doubt it if you don’t want the throne she sits on.” She swallows hard as she thinks about what he is saying. She heard about it this morning, indeed, and was thinking about what other options she had to get that position.

“I’m nothing like Luna,” she says, turning around to look at him. "We are friends."

“I’m glad you’re not. If that’s what I want, I can always go back to her,” he says, smiling. “I saw the entire file for the competition, and it’s not hard for me to figure out that you must be the one who submitted the file,” he said to her, and she frowned. "I don't need to mention that I'm familiar with Alora's handwriting," he explained, and she let out an exasperated sigh, rolling her eyes. "My point is, would you prefer to receive what you—uh, you put in a lot of effort for someone who didn't even try her best?"

That was a questionable inquiry, but it accurately reflects her ongoing sentiments since Alora became the company's figurehead. This morning, upon receiving the news from her assistant about the ongoing competition, she felt an overwhelming sense of joy and excitement. Now this is another proposition; it seems that Liam is presenting her with an opportunity to secure her position, but it would come at the expense of her friendship. If she had Liam by her side, things might turn out favourably for her, but it would deeply hurt Alora. Now the question arises: is it worth jeopardising the friendship?

“I have a simple way,” he remarks as he rises from his seat. He walks around his desk and stands in front of her. He stands tall and exudes confidence, his curly, ash blonde hair adding a touch of flair. His blue shirt perfectly matches his captivating blue eyes and warm smile. His broad, relaxed shoulders express that he is sure that she will take his offer. "Are you prepared to collaborate with me?" He politely inquires, reaching out his hand towards her. She takes a deep breath, feeling overwhelmed, and studies his hand as she contemplates.