chapter five

Now, isn't this nice, Gean thought as she walked through the beautiful lobby in a pair of khaki pants and a gray tank top. A guy checking in at the counter smiled at her as she walked past. She smiled back.

He's cute, she thought, storing him away for further reference in future. She saw the restaurant at the end of the lobby and wondered if she should just eat there for that night.

Hell, I'll just eat there tonight. There is plenty of time to eat out, she decided. Anyways, it's free.

Sauntering towards the restaurant, she gave the kindly matre’d a bright smile.

"Good evening Mademoiselle," he said, smiling back at her kindly. "Table for…"

"Just me," Gean replied.

"Follow me Ma’am," he said.

As he led her to a small table against the wall, she didn’t notice the male sitting in the table next to her’s. He did though.

"Oh shit!," he said before he could control himself. The matre’d and Gean both turned, surprised. Gean’s eyes widened. It was that moron from the airport. And not only was he that moron, he was also…

Mark Read. That guy from that band a1 whom she used to adore. Well, not anymore anyway…she stopped all that crazy fan stuff long ago. And with situations as such, her sentiments about that guy were the exact opposite of adoration.

Snapping her head back, she asked the matre’d politely,

"I’m sorry, but is there anywhere else I can sit? This environment is a little…offensive," as she said the last word, she shot another glare at Mark, who rolled his eyes.

"That’s okay. I’ll move away. I don’t want to get indigestion," he said, standing up.

"I’m sorry Monsieur and Madame," the elderly man said apologetically. "This is the last table,"

Mark and Gean looked at each other. Finally, in sullen resignation, both sat down at the same time. The matre’d hid a smile as he handed Gean her menu and left her alone.

Gean glared at her menu as she flipped through the booklet, trying to calm her nerves. Next to her, Mark sat with his arms crossed, wishing the waitress could come take his order quickly and speed up the night.

Five minutes later, a waiter and waitress approached both tables at the same time.

"I’ll take the spaghetti bolognese," both said at the same time. And at the same time, both turned their heads and shot each other glares.

"Any beverages?" the waitress asked Mark, not noticing a thing.

"Scrape the spaghetti. I’ll have a…salmon special," Mark said, ordering the first thing he read as he looked at his menu again.

"I’ll take a medium steak instead of the spaghetti," Gean told the waiter. "And diet coke please,"

"Lemonade," Mark told the waitress.

After the waiter and waitress left, both persons sat down, staring straight ahead, both aware how childishly they were behaving, and both stubbornly not caring that it was so.

As the both of them sped through the rest of the meal, both were not aware of the looks the staff were casting over at them.

"The Mademoiselle had absolutely no idea how much the Mosieur is attracted to her," the Matre’d said with a small smile. "He acts like he hates her, but he keeps looking at her,"

"Neither does he have any idea how much he likes her," a waiter about his age whispered back. "Or vice versa,"

"You think we should play cupid?" his friend replied thoughtfully.

"Don’t even go there," the other man warned. "You always mess things up. They’ll find each other sooner or later,"

As Gean was eating, blissfully unaware of the judgement passed on her fate, her cell phone rang. Sighing impatiently, she picked it up.

"Having a good time girlfriend?" her friend’s chirpy voice said.

"Totally sweetie. Wish you could join me," Gean replied. "Wait, correction. Wish Antonio Sabato Jr. could join me here,"

"I’m hurt,"

"Why, jealous?" Gean asked playfully. "I did see this cute guy though. He’s staying here…looks like James Marsters,"

Mark found himself leaning to his left, trying to catch the rest of the conversation. Someone once told him he resembled that actor. Gean saw his subtle gesture and grinned.

"He’s really quite perfect…and he smiled at me," Gean said, stretching the truth. "Totally unlike this huge moron who’s sitting next to me and trying to see if I’m talking about him,"

Mark immediately straightened himself, flushing furiously to his further embarrassment.

"Go talk to him and find out his name," her friend ordered. "Anyway, I gotta go now…take care!"

"I will," Gean replied. "Bye,"

With a smug smile, Gean kept her cell phone away.

There really wasn’t much to see in the neighborhood, Gean found out as she walked along the streets after she finished her meal. And she also had a distinct feeling that it was not exactly a safe place to be out at night.

And she was right.

"I don’t have anymore money," said a male voice up ahead. It sounded both scared annoyed and familiar.

"Hey, I’m no Buffy the Vampire Slayer," Gean said casually as she walked up. "But I do know a thing or two about that gun you’re holding,"

The boy in front of her, who couldn’t be more than 15 said nervously.

"Oh yeah, what’s that?"

"That I can pretty much do…" Gean reached out swiftly and twisted the boy’s wrist. With a cry, the boy dropped the pistol in his hand. "…this. Hey whaddya know? I’m good,"

The boy stared at her, terrified and started blabbering.

"I’m sorry, I just needed some money and…"

"Get a job kid, that’s what we all do," Gean said looking impatient. "Give the money back to the Mr. and I won’t call the cops on you,"

"Yes Ma’am," he stuttered and shoved the money into the hands of the stranger beside her before scampering off into the night.

"Thank you," said the male voice behind her.

"That’s…" she turned around and stared. Then, she sighed. "Okay,"

The person stared at her. Gean gave him a wan smile before turning and walking back to the hotel.

"Hey, wait up!" the guy called. She turned around to see him running up. He stopped in front of her and ran a hand through his hair before grinning sheepishly. "Let me walk back with you. It’s not safe to be out alone,"

Gean couldn’t help but grin up at his sheepish face.

"Yeah, come on,"

Mark could not believe it. As he started walking next to the girl who had been pissing him off since he landed, he wondered if what happened up ahead was a dream. He had never been mugged before, much less rescued…by a female, no less.

"I’m Mark," he said, breaking the silence and looking down at her.

"I know," she replied.

Mark studied her. She had known all this time who he was and had continued to deliberately annoy him. He liked that.

"And your name is…"

"I’m Gean Hackerman, sorry," Gean said, not bothering to extend a hand.

"Where did you learn how to do what you did?" he asked curiously, suddenly wanting to find out more about the enigmatic woman beside him. "Are you a cop or something?"

"No, I’m a journalist. But my ex-boyf…um…someone I knew was a cop and he taught me what to do," Gean replied. Mark noticed the slip in her words, but said nothing about it. Instead, he asked bluntly,

"Don’t mind me, but why were you so mad at me at the airport?"

"You really don’t know?" Gean looked at him. He shook his head. Sighing, she continued. "You go onto the cab I wanted and at the same time, hit me with your stupid backpack,"

"I did?" Mark said, his face conveying surprise. "I’m so sorry! I didn’t know! I’m so sorry!"

"That’s okay, I’m over it. Sorry for acting so childishly just now," Gean said, waving it off as she smiled up at him. A little of her childish crush on him re-surfaced as she looked up at him.

"I was being childish, and worst of all, I had no right to," Mark carried on blaming himself.

"It’s not your fault. Really," Gean said, instinctively touching his arm. Both noticed the action after a second and Gean hastily removed her hand. She looked ahead, suddenly feeling like an awkward teenager who had a crush on the senior walking next to her.

"So listen…do you have any plans tomorrow?" Mark asked after a two-second lapse.

"Not really…you know, just walk around town or head down to the beach or something," Gean replied.

"Um…you wanna do something together?" he asked, looking away. "I mean, we’re both by ourselves and…"

"You don’t have to ask me just ‘cos I helped you out back there," Gean said, mistaking the reason why he wasn’t looking at her.

"Huh?" Mark turned around, surprised. "No, nothing like that,"

"Right, like you would wanna go out with me," Gean laughed, rolling her eyes.

"I do! I mean…you’re nice! I thought you were a horrible bitch and…" Mark trailed off, aware he had just made a mistake.

Gean turned a glare on him. Before she could make a retort, she tripped over something on the pavement, her ankle giving a loud crack as she went down. In no time at all, Mark was kneeling down on one knee, looking down anxiously at her.

"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like hell," Gean rubbed her forehead, which was slightly scratched. She tried to get up, with Mark holding on to her. As her right foot touched the ground, she tried to walk, but gave a cry and collapsed into Mark’s arms.

"What? What’s wrong?" he asked, still anxious.

"I think I twisted my ankle," Gean said, turning her dark eyes up to meet his.

For a split second, their eyes locked gazes and her pain was momentarily forgotten by both. Someone walked past and yelled,

"Get a room!"

Immediately, the spell was broken.

"Um…let’s see…we are about two blocks from the hotel…" he said awkwardly, twisting his head to look at the looming Ritz behind. "I don’t think you can make it without much pain,"

"I’ll try," Gean said, giving a resigned sigh.

"No," Mark said, making a quick decision. He swept down and scooped her into his arms.

"What are you doing??" Gean squealed. "Mark, put me down! People are looking at us!"

"I’m returning a favor and restoring my pride since you rescued me earlier," Mark told her with a mischievous grin. Gean opened her mouth, then shut it. He was already starting to walk, so it was quite pointless to argue.

"Wow," You’re actually quiet now," Mark said, looking down at her.

"What are you saying? I’m noisy?" Gean replied, trying to hide a smile. She was kind of enjoying this.

"Noisy, unreasonable, mean," Mark said, laughing.

"Fine," Gean said, pouting.

"And pretty, brave. Think you’ll let me find out more?" he asked meaningfully.

"That depends. If you praise me some more, maybe I’ll let talk to you tomorrow," Gean said playfully.

"You’ll talk to me whether or not I praise you," Mark said smugly. "I’m too cute and charming,"

"Geez, how do you keep from bumping into things with that ego of your’s blocking your view?" Gean asked sarcastically as they entered the lobby. Many heads turned. The matre’d at the restaurant gave a knowing smile and nudged his friend.

"Ego? What ego?" Mark feigned puzzlement as he entered the lift.

"Sheesh, now people probably think we’re going up to your room to do God-knows-what," Gean groaned.

"Let’s not disappoint them," Mark replied. Looking at the panel, he asked, "Which floor do you stay on?"

"The 23^rd,"

Mark looked surprised as the elevator assistant punched in the digit. He muttered a thanks, then turned back to Gean.

"That’s the floor I stay," he said.

"That’s it. We’re cursed," Gean sighed again.

"Or meant to be," Mark deadpanned.

"God-forbid,"

"You have a first aid kit?" Mark asked, his mind switching to a more practical nature.

"Yeah," Gean nodded.

"Where’s your key?" Mark asked as they walked out the lift.

"In my pocket," Gean said as Mark stopped in front of her door, the third one, right opposite his.

"How do you know this is my door?" Gean asked as he set her down and she dug into her pocket.

"Fluke. I mean, we have been crossing each other’s path the whole day, it only seems natural that your door would be right opposite mind," He said. Gean opened the door and turned to Mark.

"I’ll handle it from here," she said.

"Oh no you don’t," Mark said firmly as he swept her up again and walked in, kicking the door shut. He kissed her forehead and said,

"Welcome home sweetheart, we crossed the threshold,"

"Shut up," Gean said, hoping she didn’t look flushed.

"I’m hurt," he replied, depositing her on the bed. Gean realized how tall he was as he hovered over her, looking around.

"Where’s the kit?" he asked.

"In my backpack," Gean pointed to her small black bag on the chair in a corner.

A few minutes later, he was sitting in front of her, inspecting her injured foot. It looked slightly disjointed.

"Can’t be broken…should I bring you to the doctor?" Mark asked, looking up at her.

"Nah, its probably just a twist. Happens all the time when dogs chase me out of their owners compounds after I snap pictures," Gean quipped. Mark shook his head.

"You’re incredibly irreverent," Mark said resignedly. "What do people do with you?"

"Oh, shut up," Gean said, laughing.

"Is this how you are?" Mark asked as he took out a roll of bandages and slowly twisted her foot back in position. Gean winced. "Sorry,"

They remained quiet till Mark was done bandaging her foot. He leaned back and settled his weight on his arms.

"Thanks," Gean said sincerely.

"No problem…so you haven’t answered me," he said.

"What?"

"Is this how you are? Always laughing and joking?" Mark asked, his own lips curved in a smile.

"Most of the time. I can’t stay angry for long with anyone and anyway, I’m trying to have patience and love everyone for what they are," Gean shrugged, bending forward and clasping her hands in front of her. "Boy, that’s tough,"

"I should think so," Mark said, leaning forward, bringing their faces only centimeters apart. Gean suddenly realized this, but could not bring herself to move away from his silver gaze. She was a girl all over again. "With people like me who go bumping pretty girls with my bag,"

Gean couldn’t help but laugh at that, but her laughter died on her lips as he moved even closer. The laughter in his eyes were replaced by something more urgent. She could feel Mark’s warm breath on her face nd longed to bend just a little more forward and touch his lips with her own…

"Don’t you wanna wash your hands?" Gean asked softly.

back    index    next