If youβre new to the story, please read the prologue here.
This work is my first draft and thus unedited, so may be subject to changes.
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Chapter 2
It must have been over an hour before I started to relax slightly around this guy. Or it could have been the alcohol. We sat chatting for almost two hours in total, while he tried to figure out where he knew me from. Well, he chatted, I mostly uttered one word answers or the occasional small sentence.
He at first asked if I came to the bar often. I didnβt, it was the first time Iβd been there. Then he asked if I had heard of some restaurant. I hadnβt. He mentioned some place with a strange name. I didnβt even know what it was let alone heard of it. He mentioned a company. The name sounded vaguely familiar but I wasnβt sure from where, so I said no. The questions continued one after the other, all the while he sat there watching me curiously.
That was the first hour anyway. The second hour, or what was left of the second hour, was a little different. It wasnβt until I noticed he had gotten a little bored with the conversation and something changed. I remembered thinking at the time; he must have a short attention span.
The conversation had suddenly become weird too. He had given up asking questions that required closed single answers and seemed to start asking a different type of question. Questions that was a little odd in nature, ones I couldnβt possibly answer.
βSo, who are you, Jo?β he started after taking a small sign and catching me unaware.
βSorry?β
βWho are you?β
βYou know who I am,β I said. One of those rare sentences I had managed to string together.
βNo I donβt,β he replied and took a long pause. It was the pauses that made me nervous. Like I was waiting for him to do something spontaneous in that time frame. I donβt know what, but I had a feeling he was the spontaneous type. My thoughts ranged from him dragging me out of the bar and having his wicked way with me up against a wall, or dragging me out of the bar and murdering me in a dark alleyway. βAll I know is your nameβs Jo and you interest me, that is it,β he said again. His deep penetrating eyes surveying me.
I literally gulped. I wasnβt yet relaxed at that point. I was still nervous. It was the βyou interest meβ that set me on edge slightly.
βWhat do you want to know?β I asked, trying to remind myself that it was just a conversation. A slight sense of confidence suddenly appeared. There was no harm in a conversation. Iβve done it loads of times. Itβs not like Iβve never spoken to a guy before.
βI donβt know.β
My confidence vanished. What did this guy want me to say? Was he interested in knowing where I was from? Where I worked? Who my friends were? What?
βErr, well…β I started, βIβm from England–β
βI know that, I can tell by your accent,β he interrupted and then paused again, waiting for me to continue. Waiting for something interesting.
βOkay, wellβ¦ I moved here a few years ago. After travelling and working a little. I have a Masterβs degree in History, Iβm mostly interested in ancient history though, not the world wars or anything. I…β I paused, I ran out of things to say. My mind drew a blank. βI donβt know what else to say really.β
βYou were on a roll,β he said and smiled again. A smile that didnβt quite reach his eyes.
I didnβt know what to make of that. I had never met a guy like this. Not one that actually cared enough to know anything about me. Iβd met the odd guy who asked certain questions, but more of a formality than anything; βWhere are you from? Where do you work? How old are you?β those sorts of questions. But this guy didnβt ask those questions. He asked who I was. A vague question. A question that was difficult to answer. A question that seemed to require an interesting answer otherwise he wouldnβt be interested.
βWell, tell me about yourself?β I asked. Trying to take control of the situation, but not sure I really wanted to know. I was worried about what I might find. Although at the same time, I did want to know. He was mysterious and judging by the watch on his wrist, rich too. I know, thinking back to it, it was an extremely weird interaction. He just wandered over and started talking to me uninvited. He was demanding to the point of arrogant.
βNo, weβre not talking about me yet, weβre talking about you,β he said. And I could have sworn I saw him looking disinterested suddenly.
βI… I donβt know what to say.β
βOkay, where in England are you from?β
Easy question, I can answer that one. βFrom a little city called Bath in South West of England. You might not have heard of it, itβs–β
βIn Somerset. South-east of Bristol. Known for its Roman baths. Became a World Heritage Site in nineteen eighty seven,β he said, interrupting me.
βYou know Bath?β I asked in shock, feeling my nervousness slowly ebb away.
βI do. Iβve travelled to England a few times.β He nodded. But he didnβt linger on the subject for long, to my disappointment. βNext question; what University did you study at?β
βI got my undergrad at Oxford and my masterβs at Edinburgh.β
He gave a small nod. If he was impressed by my qualifications, he didnβt say. Most people did when I mentioned Oxford at least, and those that knew Edinburgh were equally impressed.
βAnd why move to Chicago?β he took a sip of his beer.
βErr, a number of reasons; I like travelling and I wanted to further my career.β
He didnβt seem too interested in that answer. Like he was expecting me to say something remarkable about how I had got my big break and it was only here in Chicago.
βWhere do you work?β he asked.
βOh, I donβt currently work in anything to relate to history. I just got a pretty boring job working in an office.β
His eyes narrowed. Wrong answer. βSo, you got your masterβs degree in ancient history but youβre working in an office that doesnβt relate to it?β he quizzed suspiciously.
βErr, yes?β I said. I made my reply sound like a question, not an answer. I felt suddenly concerned that this guy was disappointed in my life choices. I had said something wrong. I needed to fix it.
βWhy?β
βI…β I paused and thought for a few seconds, what was wrong with the truth? βI moved here temporarily, I just got a job anywhere just to get my feet on the ground, get settled, before I could apply properly for history vacancies-β
βWhy not just wait until there was available and then apply?β he interrupted.
It was my turn to frown. I suddenly realised that I didnβt need to justify myself to some guy. Regardless if he was attractive and possibly rich. I didnβt care who he was, I wasnβt going to bend over for him. It was my choice to move first without my big break, so what if he didnβt approve? How dare he question me? βI donβt know youβve noticed, but there arenβt many vacancies in ancient history,β I snapped.
βThere are lots of a teaching positions around the country,β he replied, not even noticing that I snapped at him.
βYes, but I donβt want to teach!β I huffed.
βWhy?β
βBecause I canβt stand people!β I said, raising my voice angrily.
At this the guy raised his eyebrow and smiled at me again. This time his smile reached his eyes a little. βSomething we have in common.β
βThen why come over here? Or are you just here to mock me?β
His smile disappeared. βIβm not mocking you.β
βSounds like youβre questioning my life choices!β
βNo, Iβm just asking questions.β
βYou just asked why I donβt just wait in England and apply for a position when one was available. You sounded as if you were mocking my choice to come to Chicago first without the job.β
βI was curious, I wasnβt mocking you.β
βRight.β I frowned at him. No longer sure what to say.
There was few moments silence between us before the guy in front of me finally filled it. I was mostly aware that he was just watching me. I was starting to get a little nervous again. Plus, I was starting to realise how strange this interaction was; he came straight over and started to ask questions. He didnβt even introduce himself. I started to realise I should probably leave.
βDo you want another drink?β he asked.
I looked at him, looked deep into those green eyes for a moment, trying to figure him out. When I couldnβt see anything there, I groaned slightly before answering, βNo, I donβt want another drink!β
βOkay,β he said, apparently unbothered that I was raising my voice and clearly annoyed with him. Instead he just stood up.
βWhat are you doing?β
βGetting another drink,β he said, and paused as he stood. I was able to appreciate the bulk of his body and his lovely and clearly expensive suit he wore. It looked black in this light.
βWhat the hell?β I huffed.
He just frowned at me, as if he was confused by the question.
βYou think I want to speak to you again after you insulted me? You didnβt even apologise!β
βI didnβt mean to insult you.β
All I heard was; βIβm not apologisingβ. I laughed, which the guy just gave me a funny look, like he couldnβt tell why I was laughing at him. βYou come over here, demanding to know why I am familiar, you probe me with questions, then insult me, and I donβt even know anything about you, not even your name, you didnβt bother to introduce yourself.β
βYou didnβt either.β
βI did, I told you my name is Jo.β
βI asked you for your name. You didnβt ask me.β
βWhat?β I laughed again. And he looked at me strange again.
There was a few moments silence between us. He just stood there staring at me while I was just scowling at him. I didnβt want him to leave, I still found him mysterious. But at the same time, I was annoyed with him for being rude.
βXander,β he finally said, breaking the silence.
βWhat?β
βMy name; itβs Xander.β
Check out the next chapter!
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If you liked this story, please check out my other works!
Rose Garden Sanatorium β Prologue
Itβs My Mistake β Chapter 1
Enderβs Love β Chapter 1
New Story idea! β Butterfly House
If you’re interested in buying the book, here’s the links: