A true visionary

[I am sorry, darling. I can't see you today.] Wynona breathed through the phone's speaker. [Believe me, I wish I could be there with tonight, but this bitch Anastasia thought it was fun to have a pajama party for women our age who sleeps on tempur matresses and after a ten-step skin care routine.]

"Then don't go. She's here a this afternoon and she was egging me."

[I think, you had something to do with this emergency sleepover You've done it!]

"What?"

[I have to go, love you to bits!] Wynona ended the call.

Meredith frowned. How could she possibly be the reason of an event she's not even invited? She bid goodbye and decided to go to O'Shea's training hub where she could let her frustrations out. Kickboxing gave her the oultlet she badly needed. Thirty minutes in and her heart was racing, drenched in sweat and still wanting more as she felt the rush of warm blood course through her system that she failed to notice a shadow watching her let go of all her rage.

“Miss me?”

"Fuck! Will you stop that?" She jumps a mile high when the smooth, unmistakeably husky voice catches her from her left side. It was Conrad.

"Why?" He chuckled, casually propped against the end of the bar on one elbow, looking fresh.

A bit odd that he would come to train at night when he is a stickler to his schedule. Always in the afternoon. That is why she came there.

His eyes run over her unapologetically, obviously enjoying the view. Meredith had another plan. She doesn't want to act available to him always. He needs to be humbled to make him want more. She wants to play acting like there is nothing between them.

"Whoa, someone woke up this morning and decided to have a bad day.” The voice comes closer.

"Correction, I woke up in the afternoon and it was all your fault and your mom dropped by and wanted to know what happened. I mean, I get that you are her only son but I hope there are limits. I feel so...like a teenager with the mother of the boy I am dating breathing on my neck."

"She did?"

“Are you deaf?” I snap petulantly, spitting my words venomously at his back. Conrad frowns and tilts his head towards me, a slight look of concern crossing his face.

“I am sorry for my mother...she's a little too excited with all these...” He sighs heavily.

"It's an overkill, Conrad."

“That’s not true. Can we not do this here? Let’s go someplace. O'Shea doesn't like it if his trainees fight outside the ring.” He turns again and throws her a cool look that, to an outside eye, appears to be Conrad talking down to his staff and getting bored with her. Meredith narrows her eyes and frown back at him furiously. Temper is working up under her skin with the way he thinks he can boss her around.

“I’m still traiing. For another three hours, so … no.” She turns on my heel and hits the hnaging bag with her knee. Craving that it's him or his mother. He came to kill her vibe and she's not in the mood for his shitty attitude.

“Don’t make me carry you.” The warning, low-toned threat that has a hint of a smile in it.

“You wouldn’t dare!” She throws a wary look back at him, and the smirk and an evil glint in his eye tells her he definitely would. Meredith swallows hard and shrugs, pretending she did not hear him and she doesn't believe him a bit. a tad loudly and shrug, trying to hide it as though I don’t believe him.

He turns so his back is against her. Meredith hopes he would just leave her in peace. She eye rolls and sigh heavily. "Oh, trust me, I am the type who would."

“Oh, I'd like to see you try.” She hisses.

Meredith's POV:

I hate that how much I try to annoy him and drive him away, he still sticks around. Just like now. He's wating for me until I've had my fill of adrenaline.

He sits there looking so cute and sexy at the same time and it only acts as a reminder that he had broken my defenses last night. Screw him. One of these days, I need to find myself other friends that I can hang out with so if I tell him I've got a life----he'd buy it.

I don’t know why I add to my misery by still having him here right now when I can walk away and leave him iif he refuses to go. It’s no fun, and I lost interest in making him suffer an age ago. He is a constant toxic presence; I want himgone. I want this over.

Conrad wanders up casually as though he hasn’t a care in the world, ignoring my mood and throws me a cheeky wink as he walks in my direction, ignoring all the flashing lights of anger I have in my head. Figuratively.

“You look sexy...” It’s the first thing he says as we stand apart, and he scans me with those wolfish eyes of his. After the kiss, he was more verbal.

“That’s nice. Not that you will benefit.” I sulk petulantly, and he laughs at me. A light boyish chuckle that grates on my nerves because it’s the same as saying ‘sure, we’ll see.’

“You cannot be seriously this pissed about a kiss.” He shrugs it off, which ignites my temper.

“Screw you.” My voice catches in my throat. It's so hard to pretend that I don't want to lock lips again.

“Come on. Seriously? I thought we have something going on.” Fingers trailing up my arm lightly, I push away aggressively, feeling prickly and unable to stand his touch. He sighs heavily.

“Leave me alone.” It’s a sulky, petulant half tearful snap.

"Not happening."

“What is with you tonight?” The words are out before I can filter them, strained, panic-ridden suddenly, and he throws me back a strange, pensive expression.

“I have a lot on my mind. Sit. We need to talk.”

Bossy, demanding, no hint of love, and I consider walking out and going home. I already feel fragile. Now there is this added weird atmosphere, and my nerves are telling me he is about to dump me before we are even a thing; I suddenly feel sick and bordering on dizziness so intense I sway on my feet slightly.

“Want to talk someplace else? Like McDonalds?" He asks in afterthought, his tone a little softer this time. It’s almost as though he’s reading me as well as I’m reading him and backs off, knowing he’s being a jerk. Sensing my heightened emotions. I nod when he throws me a gentler look with a hint of a smile that brings out those dimples, and he fills the kettle and turns it on.

“Ok, so now I know something is up.” I query nervously, voice a little high with nerves. “About to break up with me or something?” It’s a lousy attempt at veiling a genuine fear with humour, and it gets me a confused frown flicked my way.

“No.” He lets out a disbelieving chuckle, a second glance that hints he is contemplating if I’m serious, and then sighs. His face drops as he realises that maybe I might be serious and hits me with an intense look, all seriousness oozing into his expression and manner. “I like you, Meredith. My mother does too. I’m sorry I was an asshole, my mom is an asshole too for pressuring you. I honestly didn’t think you would take it this way. It won’t happen again, I promise.” Another concerned little furrowed glance, and he turns back to what he is doing, surprised that that’s what would be in my head. Taking a moment to think while he does what he is doing.

I smile inside.

Whores are ten-a-penny to a man with power and money. Whoever is going after the women in their lives know this and see them as disposable toys that won’t harbour any real comeback. Only wives and family have any value or hold any stance where respect is concerned. I am going that way. Come hell or high water.

“What I am asking of you is to have a little patience, she's coming in hot sooner or later.” His solution earns him my fierce snapping back in.

"You like me?"

"As if it's not obvious. Girl, you have a problem if you don't see that."

"Say, if we work out...is marriage on the table?"

"That's to be discussed."

I glare at him this time as he takes all the romance out of what would be him suggesting marriage and shake my head angrily. I won’t do something as drastic as that to stay safe. Hurt that, to him, marriage would be a helpful tool rather than a need to spend his life with me. How come I am hurt??

“Great. That's settles it!” I snap under my breath, aching inside a little too much at something so dumb. It’s not that I ever thought about marriage, or is even something I want; it’s something like that should not be a second thought resolution to a problem like this. It should mean something.

I feel like everything stops, including time and my heartbeat, as my anger falls away again, shocked out of me with absolute bewilderment. It slides down to my feet along with my body warmth and my security and puddles on the floor limply.

“So, you are telling me, Anastasia will hover?”

"Absolutely."

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.