FIRE(I)
Viviana
Unease is on every layer and corner of my skin due to my closeness with my boss. There is space between us as we dance. But not enough because I still feel like I want to jump out from my own skin.
I blame Rosalia -my best friend- for talking me into having this dinner.
I was ready to create an excuse like the other times Mr Bianchi has asked me out. But Rosalia had struck a daring and true chord when she said, “It’s because of him right? You won’t move on because of someone you have no inkling whether he’s alive or not. Dante is an embodiment of your past Viv and yet you keep letting him affect your future. He is the reason you don’t allow any man come close to you. The reason you don’t find any attraction with another.
For how long are you going to be like this? How long are you going to allow Dante’s ghost to control your life? It’s one date Viviana. I’m certain the both of you will just eat and talk and see where things go from there-”
Rosalia has never been more wrong. Yes we ate and talked but I never planned to dance with him. That was the sole purpose of strapping on these heels. But I should have known Jacob Bianchi would not relent.
And so when his phone vibrated the first time, I tried to ease out from his hold and tell him of the message or incoming call I was certain he could feel. But he simply pulled me back to himself and continued moving us both gradually. I sighed my frustration as my eyes landed on Mr Bianchi’s new bodyguard again. Before I wasn’t sure and had thought he was looking at me and around me for protocol purposes.
But now… now I know he is looking at me. Straddling his gaze solely on my face like there’s something there he wants to pull apart. I cannot even read his closed off facial expression. Except that his eyes on me make me so aware. Aware of myself and how badly I was swaying to the song playing. Aware that the length of my dress keeps riding up with every slight movement.
When I bring down my hand from Mr Bianchi’s shoulder to ease my dress, his phone rings for the third time. He quickly stops the dance as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the phone.
“What in hell? What could be so important that you keep calling?” He barked at the person at the other end of the call.
I stand there awkwardly as I ponder whether to go back to my seat or rap an excuse and flee from this place. This place with my boss who is crossing a few boundaries, by gliding and inching his fingers low and lower while we danced and his bodyguard whose eyes I doubt have left me since I entered. Creepy individuals!
When Mr Bianchi ends the call, I am forced to ask, “Is everything alright Sir?”
The angry scowl on his face is enough to tell that everything is not alright. Enough to tell that whatever he had heard over the phone had been enough to ruin this disastrous evening. I want to throw a fist in the air in victory. But it’s not so good to rejoice at the misfortune and downfall of others I guess and so I ask with concern.
He fingers his hair roughly and shakes his head in the affirmative. “It’s nothing big Viviana. Just a little fire issue in my house.”
“Fire? If a fire started in your mansion then it is no small issue. We can continue this some other time but I think you should check on your home Sir.”
He nods. Everyone knows how obsessed he was with his mansion when he acquired it two years past. The love he holds for it still hasn’t diminished. If he could carry it, it would probably be his pet.
“But I’ll drop you home first before I go. The number of crimes in this city is beginning to rise and it will not be good if I don’t drop you at your home myself.”
A few minutes later, I’m at the back of his SUV with the creepy bodyguard driving. Somehow I feel guilty for referring to him as creepy but he cannot blame me when he keeps looking at me. Although the man is good looking per say, he still lacks the roguish charm Dante exudes. The Universe defying looks that Dante wears.
I almost smack myself.
Here I am with one of the top five richest men in the city and still I am comparing his bodyguard with Dante. That’s a bad habit I hope to change. I must not always compare everyone, every living male to Dante. But that is easier said than done.
Again I catch the eyes of the creep glancing at me through the rear view mirror.