Chapter 14 Bitterness at its Finest

“Mr. Dawson?”

He looked at me with a smile on his face. His eyes traveled to my coat and he must be happy seeing me wearing it.

“Where are the Rodriguez’?” I asked sitting in front of him. A cup of coffee came automatically like they’re just waiting for me to arrive.

“I postponed it. I want you to help me review their contract. There still be a meeting tomorrow, but I want to sign it in LA. I want to take my time for this one.”

A mischievous glint is playing in his eyes and I know he is up to something. Mr. Dawson is not the type of guy to just lounge and waits for the stars to fall, but instead, he will come and get it himself. This is the laidback version of Mr. Dawson. He is sitting comfortably despite the fact that this investment might cost the newest projects of our company.

“Let’s eat. I know you threw up on the plane, you have to eat something.”

He saw me throwing up? Sometimes I think this man had installed CCTV Camera wherever I go. Even in the office? He knows what I am doing. Gotta be careful next time.

“This is disgusting. How can you say something about throwing up when we’re about to eat?” I mumbled flicking through pages on the menu.

“You’re saying something, Ms. Hernandez?”

He is staring at me from the top of his eyeglasses with his coffee on his left and phone on his right.

“No. I didn’t even say a word.” Focusing on the menu, I settled on clam soup for Mr. Dawson and vegetable salad for me. He added a glass of wine, to make things fancy according to him. We started eating and it looks like we both just starved ourselves. No one is talking, all I can hear is the crunchy munch and slurping. Mr. Dawson is about to say something when my phone rang with James’ name flashing over the screen.

“Excuse me,” I said before standing up excusing myself, Mr. Dawson mumbled something that I can’t make out. Just as I was about to turn around, someone grabbed my coat flailing me back to the chair. Mr. Dawson is munching on one of the green leaves from my plate while pointing at my chair saying I don’t have to go to talk to someone else over the phone.

“Yes, James?” I winced a little when my bottom hit the arm chair and stared at the man in front of me.

“I haven’t seen you at the cafeteria, where are you?”

“Uhhmm, I’m actually here in Europe—”

“Europe? What are you doing there?”

I turned to look at Mr. Dawson but he is already staring at me like I have to be careful what to say. Or else,

“I’m with Mr. Dawson, we are currently running an errand today.”

“Do you really have to go with him wherever he goes?” James rants while I try my best to put on a happy face.

“Ha-ha, Of course. It’s given already.” I smiled portraying a happy conversation. But Mr. Dawson held out his hand asking for my phone.

“Eh?”

“Give me that.”

“Why?”

“Just give me that.” He is now giving me an annoyed expression with his hands suspended in the air for a couple of minutes now. Afraid that he may overreact and make a scene here ‘cause sometimes this man is out of control, I handed him my phone with James blabbering on the end of the line.

“…let me know if you need anything else, Betty—”

“She wouldn’t need anything else, we can manage.”

Mr. Dawson ended the conversation by clicking the red end button without waiting for James’ response.

What was that?

“We are here to work, Ms. Hernandez. Let us focus on our agenda, please.”

"What do you mean work, sir? We're just here for dinner after you postponed the meeting."

It’s like he is saying I am doing something else aside from being his assistant. James is a friend and no one would want to ignore calls from your friend.

“I think there’s nothing wrong with me answering James’ calls Mr. Dawson. Besides we’re literally outside the office. See?” Waving my hand around like crazy like I want to say we are indeed in a restaurant and not in the office.

“Keep your head on the game, what I am saying. There is no room for distractions.”

He said it himself. No room for distractions? It’s him who usually gets distracted with my personal issues. Psh.

“I am not distracted or anything, sir. I am just making friends. And making friends is so common in the workplace. I just lost my best friend, you know that sir.” Referring to my friendship with Ricky, I am hopeful that he will drop this topic once and for all.

“I literally hate it when you win the argument.” He huffed adjusting the lapel of his suit and sipped on his coffee.

“Finish your meal, Ms. Hernandez. I’m tired, I want to take a rest now.”

We silently finished our meal with slight bickering about choosing the food. He personally hates clams but still ate them. He is not making sense. He could just tell me he doesn’t want it then we can order something he likes.

We arrived in the hotel with Bill and Miller tailing before us. I asked them if they already had their meal but it was Miller the slightly younger one, shook his head and my heart clenched by the way he acts it. I waited for Mr. Dawson to settle in his hotel before slamming the door on our faces before I turn around and face them.

“Take this. Go and treat yourself. It’s Mr. Dawson’s so just let’s shut our mouth about this, okay?”

Bill and Miller are looking at me with a strange expression. Like they can’t believe I am offering Mr. Dawson’s black card for a dinner. This is our first time having bodyguards so we are still adjusting on how to handle them. This might’ve slipped Mr. Dawson’s mind.

“Are you sure, Ms. Hernandez?”

“It’s no problem. I can take care of that.” I smiled at them reassuringly. It’s no joke to just stand outside the building in cold weather with an empty stomach. To think it’s already ten in the evening, so they probably skipped their meals and watch us eating while at the restaurant. I feel sad for these two.

“Sorry, we almost forgot you two.”

“It’s not a problem, Ms. Hernandez. It’s part of our job.”

“What? To skip meals? No shit Sherlock.”

Miller smiled at me while holding the black card with both hands. They waited for me to close my door before I heard retreating footsteps. It’s been less than 24 hours with them and I already grew fond of them. How cool is that?

Mr. Dawson is dressed in a navy blue suit, gray tie, and black shiny shoes. Thanks to my meticulous choice of clothing, he is beyond grateful for the way he looks according to him.

“Your skirt is too short, Ms. Hernandez.” He blurted out of nowhere with a frown on his face while we are walking the corridor of the venue. With me carrying his suitcase while maintaining long strides, my skirt has all the guts to ride up to my ass. Okay, I’m exaggerating, one wrong move could be flashing my butt cheeks.

“Please don’t make it more obvious, sir. I have no choice, I forgot to bring extra clothing.”

I huffed in annoyance for two main reasons. The impossibly long corridor to the main meeting room and his unending remarks about my skirt. I really don’t want to wear it if I only brought my extra clothing.

“Just—don’t sit in front of me okay?” he concluded making me stop in my tracks. I was left dumbfounded by his request. How could he—since when has this man became so vulgar? As if I’m going to sit in front of me. In fact, assistants should sit beside their bosses.

The meeting began as soon as we arrived. As expected, we were swarmed with businessmen in suits with their respective secretaries tailing behind them handing us their business cards. I was situated beside Mr. Dawson that he almost objected, gaining a glare from him. He probably woke up on the wrong side of the bed. So grumpy and ungrateful.

As the meeting continues, I was busy typing away the minutes and checking the proposal they sent. I always have this feeling of someone is looking at me a couple of minutes past now. I never dared to turn in the direction because Mr. Dawson is talking and I have to be focused on his statements. As soon as he finished talking, I turned my head to my right and locked eye with a guy, my age, smiling at me hilariously that I almost blurted out, Oh my fcking cow!

My breath hitched on my throat like a huge lump is blocking the air from my lungs, constricting all airways. My palms are now clammy and a bubble of sweat is already forming on my forehead. The room began to feel hot and I can see it started spinning. Oh no, please not now. Mr. Dawson’s words slurred and can no longer understand what they’re saying.

“Sh! t…” I mumbled while pressing the keyboard harder. I began to feel antsy that I would love to drag Mr. Dawson away from them and go home. I deserve a tap on my shoulder for waiting and putting up for one more hour until Mr. Dawson is now wrapping up the meeting before I gathered my guts and excused myself.

“Excuse me,” I said didn’t bother to interrupt him. I made my way to the exit to get fresh air but my feet dragged me to the end of the hallway. Thankfully I stumbled to a door that leads to the staircase to the rooftop.

There I never expected my tears to fall. Tears of bitterness and betrayal. Bitter with my feelings of how many months of saying I am will not get affected by the name Patrick, but my words betrayed me. It was him. I’m sure. He is looking at me smiling like he never broke my whole life. We never had proper closure because of the fact that we were once best friends, we already know ourselves like we can read each other on the back of our hands.