Golden Opportunity

Chapter 5

I look around the boutique and pick up random stuff for my apartment. In the months I've been living with Brad some of my old things lost their appeal, like the scented candles and some vases, gifts he gave me and photos we took together. I had to throw them away not to be reminded of a fake past. And, with this occasion, I went shopping. A bit late, but with my mind not being in a good place, I didn't have any mood for organising. I just let myself get lost in work. But I'm done with that. It's not the end of the world and my apartment needs a new look with the season changing. Spring is almost here and I can already feel its effect on me.

I already was at a book store, something I liked to do every sunday before moving in with Brad. I never took a book to his place because he had the tendency to look through them, and for an unknown reason I didn't like his hands on my things. When he saw me reading a book he used to ask me to describe the story to him. I did it at the beginning of our relationship and after a few months I began to see the way he would comment about them as irritating and I stopped. From then on, I always had a k****e with me when he was next to me. When he would ask what I was doing I would simply respond: work.

Whilst I was living with him he also had a habit of asking every step of my day. If I wanted to go shopping with Veronica he would tag along. At first I thought it was cute, but as it repeated it became suffocating. I needed space for myself. I needed girls' time by myself. And the way he would object at some things I tried on: 'they are too expensive' or 'you are not gonna wear that thing'. By the clothes I saw scattered on the floor of the penthouse on that fortunate day, I would say that he has no problem with Bambi dressing like a prostitute. A far cry from the clothes I wear.

No more thinking about the two lovers. This is me time, my mind scolds me.

You're right. This is me time, I think and with renewed determination I head towards the candle shelf. I pick some of them up and smell them and the one currently in my hand is of ocean and citruses, a smell that reminds me of...

I turn around ready to add it in my basket and bump into someone. I'm about to fall on my butt when a muscled and very strong arm catches me and pulls me in. I open my eyes that closed from the scare and look up to thank the person who saved me.

My light green eyes meet the forest green of the person and from the ocean and citruses smell radiating from him and not the candle still in my hand, I know exactly who it is. Our faces are a few inches from one another and if only I lean in our lips would meet. His chest is so warm beneath my hands.

What the heck am I thinking? He's my boss!, I chastise myself.

Regaining my mind I pull away from him and when his arm falls from around me I feel cold. I shake my head and muster all my courage to look at him.

"Thank you for catching me, Mr. Kingston", I say.

"No need. I should apologize. I wasn't seeing where I was going because of the phone", with that he lowers and picks up a last model phone which he puts in his pants pocket.

I put the candle in my cart.

He wears something I never thought I would see him in: black jeans and a dark blue t-shirt that highlights his eyes, black and white Vans and sunglasses perched on the front of his t-shirt.

He looks hot, my mind sighs.

Shut up!, I chastise her.

"How are you here, Mss. White?", he asks gazing at me.

"I came to buy some new candles and little other things, but I should ask you that question, sir. Why are you in a boutique?", I c**k my head to the side.

"Ayla, let's forget formalities while outside the office and when it's just the two of us. We're going to work together in the next months; I want us to be at ease with each other", he says and I nod my head in agreement. "I came to buy something for my sister and she wants something small, not expensive", he sighs. "Any ideas?", he adds, looking expectantly at me.

"Are you asking me what your sister would like?", I gesture to myself in confusion.

"Well, you're a woman and it seems you like here too, so maybe you're up to help me?", he looks hopefully at me.

"You're sure? What if she doesn't like it?", I ask worriedly.

I only bought things for Veronica and sometimes I wouldn't even meet her expectations. What if I help him and his sister wouldn't like it? I would have a new enemy.

Okay, calm down. He needs help; you can't let him by himself. He might do a bigger mess without you.

"Hmmm....", I think. "What have you bought her before?"

"Shoes, jewelry, bags, I even bough her a car on her eighteenth birthday. But this year she wants something small." He sighs. "I really have no idea. I was texting her friend when I bumped into you. Lana tells her almost everything, so I thought she might have something."

"So it's a birthday gift...", I tap my nail on my tooth while looking around in thought.

"So you'll help me?", he asks when I start walking and I can hear the desperation in his voice.

He must care a lot for his sister to go through all that headache.

"I will, but that will cost you", I say over my shoulder.

"Anything", he replies immediately.

"You pay for lunch", I respond.

"It's past lunch."

"I know, but I've been around a lot today and haven't had the time to grab a lunch. So we'll grab a late lunch". I hear him chuckling at my response, but I don't mind him.

We walk around for half an hour looking at all the items one by one. In this time I found out some things about him. He's a familist. His sister and mother are the only persons he wouldn't dare upset. His sister's birthday is in three weeks and she will turn 22. He didn't bring up his father, but I can sense there is something still raw in that wound. I told him about Veronica, how she's one of a few people out there to really know me.

At some point we started playing 21 questions, asking each other our favourite colours and random other things. I don't know when we started to talk about ourselves, but it felt nice. It was like two old friends catching up on each other's life after years of separation. It was his idea. He said that knowing each other better and being friends would make our collaboration easier.

We continue searching until my eyes fell on a piece of art. "You said she likes jewelry", I say looking at the item on a shelf a few feet away.

"Yeah...", he replies absently.

"Does she have a jewelry box?", I glance at him and when he looks up I gesture with a move of my head towards the shelves.

His head turns in the direction I pointed and his eyes visibly light up. "No, she doesn't", and with that we make our way to the jewelry box I saw.

It was a vintage-like jewelry box, made of wood, a dark brown colour. Four large drawers at the bottom that don't open unless the top lid is opened. It has a locket and a small key. The top lid has a large mirror stuck on it on the inside and there are compartments for any kind of jewelry: earrings, bracelets, necklaces, rings. They just have to be used.

"It's not something small, but..."

"It's perfect", he says after a quick inspection.

We buy our stuff and go to his car. It's a gray BDX SUV Aston Martin and my Mini Cooper seems pale in comparison to this. He puts our bags in the trunk and we settle in the front seats. The beige leather interior is cool and soft. I fix the belt and then we're off.

In ten minutes we're in front of an Italian restaurant and I look at him surprised. He just shrugs with a smile on his lips.

"Italian is my favourite", he says and gets out of the car.

It's my favourite too, my mind cooes at me.

I shake my head and I'm about to open the door at my side when it suddenly opens and a hand is stretched out for me to take. I look in bewilderment for a few seconds but then I realize I might appear weird so I take it. No one has done that for me. To open my door and take my hand. Not even Brad.

Why do I keep comparing him with Brad?

Because there is what to compare.

But he's my boss!

Not now, he's not!

I shake away my thoughts and we enter the restaurant that is packed up with costumers at this time. We go to a table near the window wall facing a pond and he pulls my chair for me. After I've taken my seat he takes the one in front of me. A waiter comes at our table. It is a man this time. And I know him.

Thank God!

"Mr kingston, it's good to see you again", he greets.

"Good to see you too, Leo", he replies.

"As usual, sir?"

"Yes, that would be great", he looks at me with an amused smile as I try to make out their conversation.

Leo asked 'as usual', he knows his name, so that means he comes here often. How did I not see him before?

"Ayla?", Leo asks.

"The same, Leo", I reply with a smile.

"Right away", and with that he leaves and it's just the two of us.

"Do you come here often, sir?", I arch a brow at him.

"Ayla, what did I say about formalities? Call me Gavin", he recommends.

"Gavin", I try and I like the way his name rolls on my tongue. "You haven't answered my question, Gavin", I point out.

He clears his throat and responds, "I come here as often as I can, but not as often as I'd like. In the last years I immersed myself more in the company." The distant way he says it makes me think that there is more to it. "You come often too", he gestures in the direction Leo just left.

"Yeah, I used to come at least once a month with my Mother when I was little. It was some kind of a tradition of ours. But after she died I didn't frequented for years. I remembered it like... four years ago and since then I come every month. I have good memories here", I say with a nostalgic smile while looking around the place. It didn't changed much from my childhood.

"I'm sorry to hear about your Mother", he offers looking a little sad, but I just smile at him.

"It happened 15 years ago and it's not your fault, but thank you nonetheless."

He finally gives me a smile and at that time Leo comes with our foods and a bottle of red wine. He does that every time. And his response is always the same: 'ravioli goes perfect with red wine'. The best thing? I'm a frequent costumer so I don't have to pay for it, but I still do because it's devine.

"Leo", I shake my head at him to which he only smiles and then leaves after pouring me a glass of wine and giving a glass of iced lemonade to Gavin.

I dig in into my ravioli with sauce bolognese and I can't help but moan at the first bite. If anyone ever asks me what is my favourite dish, this is it. I swallow and take a sip of wine from my glass and then I notice the gaze Gavin gives me. I look down at his plate and notice he has ravioli too, but his is with spinach. I give him a questioning glance.

"Is this your favourite food?", I ask.

He nods. My stupid heart skips a beat. We continue eating in silence and then I decide to ask the question that has been on my mind for a long time now.

"Can I ask you something?" He nods. "I don't want to pry, and if you don't want to answer you don't have to", I assure him.

"Ask and I shall see if I can answer", he replies taking a sip of lemonade and pushing his now empty plate to the middle of the table so he can perch his forearms on the edge of the table.

He waits for me. I take another sip of wine and muster my courage and then ask.

"You said that in the last years you immersed yourself in work. What happened that made you do that?"