Frozen solid, with my eyes bulging out of their sockets, I watched the food fly towards me.
I am dead! I screamed in my mind, helpless and unable to dodge the missile heading toward me.
Almost at impact, I close my eyes, waiting to be covered by hot food, but it never happens.
Maybe it got delayed on air. I wait, my eyes clenched shut. A few seconds later, and with nothing on my face, I slowly opened my eyes.
All I saw was darkness.
I have gone blind! It was the first thought to strike my mind. The thought set my heart racing in my chest for a second before I remembered that nothing had hit me, so that I couldn't be blind.
And that is when it became clear.
Something was covering my face, and I slowly pulled it off me to realize I was holding Ryan's coat.
It looked messy with food.
Did he throw it to shield me?
I slowly turned to look at him, only to find him missing from his seat. I looked around and found him squatting beside me, with those baby blues peering down at me with worry.
"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes searching my face and body for any signs of injury. "Did you get burned?"
I didn't because he saved me. I couldn't respond. I was rendered speechless by his actions and could only stare at him, dazed.
"Lyra, please answer me. I am really worried," he prompted when my silence lingered.
How should I respond when he is acting so out of character?
"Baby, stop fussing. The food didn't even hit her," Melissa snaps, clearly annoyed with the attention I was getting from her fiancé.
I steal a glance at her and find her pouting. Is she angry that Ryan is fussing over me or that her plan didn't work?
Did she do it? Or was it an accident?
I will go with the former, though I have no evidence.
"I am going to kill the damn waiter," Ryan growls, rising to his feet. Before he could lit into the waiter, who was already apologizing profusely, I stopped him by slipping my fingers into his hand.
This is the first time I am touching someone voluntarily since the incident. My therapist would be glad for this new milestone.
And I can't believe it is the man at the root of the problem in the first place.
Anyway, my action wasn't intentional. I acted on instinct because I didn't want the waiter to feel Ryan's wrath for what was clearly a mistake or someone else's evil machination.
Immediately, he felt my hand in his. Ryan looked at me, and I shook my head at him. Pleading with him not to do anything rash.
"It wasn't his fault," I whispered to him.
While the waiter kept pleading for mercy, Ryan stared at me with an expression that made me uncomfortable.
He is looking at me like he just realized I have a beautiful face. All dazed and entranced.
Why is he looking at me like that?
"You are holding my hand," Ryan whispers, sounding pleased by the fact.
What! I didn't even know I was still hanging on to his hand. My face heats up with embarrassment as I drop his hand like I have been burned.
The manager appeared beside his employee, cutting into the tension between Ryan and me. Ryan looked away from me to address the manager.
Whew! I exhaled in relief. Damn, his stare feels as if it is penetrating your soul.
"Your employee here nearly injured my assistant due to his incompetence!" Ryan growled, his tone chilled.
The employee gulps nervously at his icy tone, while the manager looked nervous, probably scared of the repercussions of offending the heir of the Blackwell family.
"Baby, please stop making a mountain out of nothing."
The blonde sounded irritated that everyone was paying attention to me.
The manager quickly capitalized on the fiancée's words and said. "Please, Mr. Blackwell. I am sorry for the mistake on my server. We will serve you something new. And it is on the house."
Ryan ignores everyone and turns to look at me. Being the sole focus of his attention made me a little nervous, especially after the hand-holding that happened earlier.
"What do you want to do, Lyra?" He asked softly, his voice a silky caress to my ears. I love how he says my name.
Lyra snap out of it!
I blink to dispel whatever spell that was before answering his question. "I want to eat somewhere else."
The manager looked alarmed at my words, thinking I was still angry about what had happened earlier.
But that is remotely not the case.
My decision wasn't to punish the restaurant; I don't feel comfortable eating there in the wake of what happened.
"Please ma—"
Ryan stopped the man from speaking further.
"No need for any more apologies. Just instruct your employees to be careful next time."
He took his wallet out and paid for the spilled food, even though the manager kept saying it was on the house, and then we left.
I couldn't be any more glad to return to my desk after the debacle that was lunch. All through lunch in the next restaurant we went to, Melissa kept glaring at me as I pissed in her food.
I couldn't wait to get out of the firing range of her evil eyes.
The rest of the day was quiet and uneventful, but tidying up kept me past closing time. I have just packed up my bag to head out when Ryan's door opened, and he stepped out.
"Are you heading home?" He asked.
I nodded, lifting my bag and stepping out of the cubicle.
"I can drop you," he offers as we head for the lift.
"It is alright. I am sure I can find a taxi home."
He looks down at his watch and then says. "Not at this time. I will drop you," he says in a tone that brooks no argument, and I drop it.
"I am surprised that you drive yourself," I tell him as we reach his car. The idea of him not having a driver had stuck with me since lunch. Most people in his shoes would have a driver and a team of security guards, yet he drives himself and has no guards.
"As opposed to what?" He asked, his brow raised. He sounded a little frosty, as if my words angered him. "Is there anything wrong with my driving?" He adds, with a little bit of a bite.
He is definitely angry. I could tell by the glow in his irises. His eyes seem to shine bright when he is angry.
I didn't mean to. I was merely trying to make a conversation—walking beside him makes me nervous. I didn't mean to make him defensive. Now I feel bad and a little awkward, with no idea what to say.
"No, but—"
He doesn't let me finish my words, but snatches them from my mouth and completes them with words so far from what I had intended to say, and in a harsher tone.
"A rich, spoiled brat like me, who had everything handed to him from birth, couldn't possibly do anything for himself. I mean, how dare he cook, clean, drive, or even live by himself when he could have millions of staff waiting on him hand and foot?"
I was certainly thinking along those lines, but I would have worded it better.
Amidst his furious gaze is a look I didn't expect to see. He looked sad, as if weighed down by something.
And even more bizarre is the insane need to comfort him.
What the fuck?
We gotta end this awkward moment before I do something stupid like hug him.
That is not the reason I am fucking here. I am here to destroy him, not feel pity for his plight.
But I am not a total monster, so I said. "I am sorry for making you angry. It wasn't my intention. I was surprised to learn that you don't have a driver."
Holding my eyes with his, Ryan says, "Why do I get the feeling that you don't have a high opinion of me?"
My heart lurches hard against my ribs. Fuck!
"What makes you say that?" I ask nervously, barely holding his eyes. I so badly want to look away from him before he glimpses how I truly feel about him.
How much I loath him and want to see him destroyed, but I couldn't, so I went with masking my feelings, hopefully it works.
"W-what makes you say that? I ask.
Ryan gives me a pointed look. "You aren't even denying it."
I shake my head, negating his accusation. "It is not just you. I am wary of rich guys," I deflect.
He stares at me intently. "Did one hurt you?"
Yes! You! I screamed in my mind as I felt the sting of tears behind my eyes. Remembering his betrayal, what he did to me, what he took from me, and all I want to do right now is scream in his face and ask him why he did what he did five years ago.
Ask him where this fucking good side of him was five years ago.