Chapter 95. Restlessness
Lilly Bradley
After having a private moment with Jackson, I resumed my work exactly at two in the afternoon, smiling like a fool. "I’m Jackson’s girlfriend!" I squealed quietly to myself and did a little dance under the desk.
"Miss Bradley?" I looked up and saw Mr. Paige standing in the doorway, and I tensed up.
"I’ll send you the information you requested in a few moments."
"Good, I’ll be waiting." His posture changed, and then he left. I opened my email and attached the information he had asked for right after lunch. Even though I hadn’t eaten a bite, it was worth it. I smiled like a fool in front of the computer. I hit send, and that was it. When it was time to leave, Jackson had sent me a message to let me know that the driver would take me home since he had to meet with a very important client. I thanked him and took the elevator down to the lobby. The doors opened, and I headed to the double doors. As I crossed, Mr. Paige appeared with a big smile.
"Do you have a way to get home, Miss Bradley? I could personally take you." I felt more uncomfortable than I already was.
"No need, thank you. And yes, I have a ride." The driver opened the door of the armored SUV, and Mr. Paige looked surprised. "Good night, sir." I didn’t wait for his reply and got into the SUV. As the door closed, a shiver ran down my spine. The man was older than me, well over thirty-five, maybe even pushing forty. The car started moving into the evening traffic.
"I think I’ll have to report him." A voice came from somewhere inside the SUV. Richard peeked his head out from the front seat.
"Did you hear him?" I couldn’t just tell him to ignore it with Jackson.
"Yes, he’s been waiting outside the building for fifteen minutes, put on more of his terrible cologne, and freshened his breath. By the way, he’s married. I looked into him more deeply; he has an impeccable work history, which is why Mr. Johnson hired him." There was a brief silence.
"I don’t want any trouble, Richard," I confessed.
"If I don’t report him to Mr. Johnson," he paused, "something else could happen, and if he finds out I kept quiet twice, I could lose my job, and something could happen to you."
"Let’s hope not," I whispered, then let out a long sigh.
"My instructions from now on are to be more at your service," he said, settling back into the front seat.
"What?" I stammered. "What do you mean, more at my service?"
"While Mr. Johnson isn’t with you, I’ll be in charge of your safety. Like tonight, when he has an important meeting in the boardroom, I’ll make sure you get home safely."
"Oh, but it’s not necessary, Richard."
"It is, especially now that Mr. Paige has started hovering around you." I didn’t argue because it was true, and it made me uneasy.
Almost half an hour later, we arrived at my building. Richard got out to open the door for me, and I thanked him. I said goodbye to them, and the SUV disappeared. I closed the building door and started up the stairs but stopped dead in my tracks.
"So, you have a private driver now, I see." It was Oliver.
"Don’t start, please. I’m tired."
"Aren’t we going to talk?" I remembered what I had told him in the morning but also what Jackson had given me: the photo from the London newspaper.
"Fine, let’s go."
"But let’s talk properly. I don’t want to fight with you."
"Fine. I know a—" he interrupted.
"I’ll choose. I ate there a few days ago, and it’s a nice place. I’m sure you’ll like it." I sighed.
"Okay, let’s go." I pulled out my phone and sent a message to the family group, letting them know I was going to talk with Oliver, so they wouldn’t worry. Leah asked for my location as soon as I got there to keep track of me, and my parents supported her. I put my phone away and followed Oliver to a car. We arrived at a restaurant about fifteen minutes away from my building. He was a gentleman, opening the door for me—something he often forgot when we were dating. I thanked him and slung my bag over my shoulder. He held the door open and chose a table near the large window overlooking the traffic. He pulled out my chair, and I thanked him, feeling quite surprised.
"It’s Italian. They have the best pasta in the city," he said, somewhat excited. "Haven’t you been here?" I shook my head as I placed my bag on the empty chair, adjusted my hair, and leaned back.
"You must be hungry."
"How do you know?" He smiled.
"Lilly, we were together for years. You like to have dinner."
"And I like my latte with one sugar." He didn’t show any irritation, just smiled.
"I’m sorry I never remembered you liked one sugar." I barely managed a half-smile, and a waitress brought us the menus. "How’s your new relationship with Jackson?" I looked up from the menu at him. "I’m asking in a good way."
"Good," I said simply. "So, shall we order, eat, and then talk?" I asked. If I got in a bad mood from not eating, it would be a total disaster, and I was starving.
"Sounds better. I know your mood is unstable when you don’t eat." I raised an eyebrow.
"You remember," I said and then looked down at the menu, choosing a pasta and a glass of wine.
"I know I’m not what you..." he began, but I interrupted.
"First, food," he nodded quickly. "And Michelle?"
"She went on a night tour of the city."
"Wow, she's having fun."
"More than me, yes."
"You should explore the city before going back to London. When are you leaving?"
"First, food," he repeated my words, and I nodded slowly, the scammer was scammed.
Another awkward silence fell between us. I checked my phone in my dress pants pocket, seeing over twenty missed calls from Jackson. My heart raced, but there were no messages, just calls. "Lilly?" I looked up at him. "Is everything okay? You look a bit pale. Has something happened?" I quickly shook my head.
"I'm fine. Just…" I cleared my throat, feeling no need to explain anything to Oliver. "It's nothing."
"Are you sure?" I nodded.
"I'm going to the restroom," he nodded and stood up at the same time as me. Before I could leave, Oliver grabbed my wrist. I turned to him in surprise. "What are you doing?"
"Are you sure you're okay? It worries me to see you like this after checking your phone. If it's urgent, I can cancel dinner and we can leave." I was about to pull away, but he let go in time.
"I'm fine. I'm just going to the restroom, I won't be long." He nodded and smiled. I started walking, then stopped a waiter to ask where the restroom was. I entered and leaned against the elegant sink. No one else was there. I pulled out my phone and typed a message to Jackson asking if everything was okay, but got no response. I thought about what to say before calling him, closed my eyes, and decided to tell the truth. I remembered the newspaper photo in my bag, planning to confront Oliver with it. I called Jackson, but it went straight to voicemail. That was strange. I tried again, and it went to voicemail again. "Could something have happened? I'll try again after dinner." I put my phone back in my coat pocket and washed my hands. Returning to the table, Oliver was watching the wine being poured. I took my seat again, and he smiled at me.
"Dinner will be here soon." I didn't respond, just nodded. The waitress left us alone. I took a sip of wine and stared out the window at the city traffic.
"My parents send their regards." I looked back at him and set my glass aside.
"Oh, thank you." I was about to pull out the newspaper to confront him but decided to wait a bit longer.
The waitress arrived with our plates and poured a second glass of wine. I hadn't realized I had almost finished the first. I promised myself not to have a third glass. We began eating in complete silence, occasionally exchanging glances. It was typical with Oliver; he didn't like his food getting cold and losing flavor. That's why he had asked before ordering. When we finished, I had also finished my second glass of wine.
"Did you like it?" I nodded.
"It was delicious. I'll definitely come back." I wiped my lips with the cloth napkin and sighed, feeling full and satisfied, and he seemed to be as well.
"Hopefully, you'll invite me." I pressed my lips together, saying nothing. "Shall we talk?" I nodded, preparing for what was to come with Oliver.
"I'd like to start," I said immediately, wanting to save time and take a taxi home.
"Go ahead." He wiped his lips with the napkin again and then fixed his gaze on me. I reached for my bag and pulled out the crumpled photo, laying it in front of him on the table. I saw the surprise in his eyes.
"At what point did we just postpone an engagement we ended weeks ago?"
"This is the first time I'm seeing this," he said, taking the crumpled photo and reading the article. He looked up at me. "I'll talk to my family."
"Please, Oliver. You and I are over. I don't understand why you crossed the ocean. Do you want me to say it to your face again?" I was starting to get irritated.
"Calm down, we agreed to talk. I don't want to fight..."
"Well, one of my points is that you clarify to your family that you and I are over. Don't make me talk to the press and deny it myself."
"My family would be humiliated," he whispered.
"Exactly."
"I'll talk to them tomorrow." Another awkward silence.
"When are you and Michelle leaving?" I asked directly, still seeing the surprise on his face.
"We don't have a date." That was all he said, looking at the photo again. "But... I see there's nothing more for us here." His words stung.
"If your intention was to win me back, I'm saving you time, Oliver. There is no 'us' anymore."
"How is it that you've forgotten me in such a short time?" His question hit me like a bucket of cold water. Even I didn't know, but I was sure my feelings for Jackson were real.
"It just happened, Oliver." He discreetly took a deep breath.
"It hurts to know I've lost you."
"You'll get over it," he said in a low tone.
"As you have?"
"I don't know, it depends on how many you have to sleep with." His eyes widened in surprise at my response. I leaned closer to him. "Let's not fool ourselves, Oliver. I know you. Drop the act of innocence and regret because the role of the suffering man doesn't suit you."