13.
There were many things I was good at. I was good at baking, not cooking.
Yes, there is a difference despite my mother insisting that you can't be good at only one of those.
I was also good at throwing back a shot of tequila without making a weird face.
All this to say, the things I was good at weren't necessarily skills I would add to my resume.
The list of things I wasn't good at was probably much more extensive than the latter.
On this one, lying would be at the top. Everyone lies.
Everyone has a tell when they are lying.
Some are great at hiding it and others not so much.
Mine just so happened to be that my left eye would visibly twitch.
So not only was I just not a great liar, but my body would give away when I did.
Now, why would I agree to lying to my sister's boss and standing in for her for two months if I knew I wasn't good at lying? Well, saying no to my twin was also on the list of things I wasn't good at.
Several seconds had passed. We were both staring at each other. Him, calculatively with his head cocked to the side. Me, frozen trying to come up with something, anything.
"Well, Miss. Merile?"
"Food poisoning." I blurted out as I stared at the waiter passing behind the intimidating man in front of me.
"Food poisoning?" It was obvious he didn't believe from the tone of his voice and his raised eyebrow.
"Yes and ever since, I can't go back. It turns me off." My left eye twitched and I looked downward at the napkin on my lap in attempt to hide it from him.
"What type of soup?" My head snapped up to look at him. His face was passive, but his eyes were lit with humor.
"Cream of asparagus. Well, it could have been the fish I had afterwards." I shrugged. "Either way, ate it and then got sick so therein lies my newborn hatred of soup." I raised my hand to rub my twitching eye.
"Do you hate fish?"
"No, however, I cannot eat scallops anymore."
I wasn't entirely lying.
When I was thirteen, my aunt and uncle brought my sister and I along on their family trip to Florida with my three younger cousins.
We had spent the first portion on a Disney cruise.
It was complete paradise until I got sick on the last night.
The scallops looked a bit pale, as if they weren't seared properly but after affirmation from everyone at the table, I contentedly dug in.
Two hours later, I was not so content. Nor, the days that followed.
Ever since then, I cannot stomach scallops or cream of asparagus which just so happened to be the appetizer.
He opened his mouth as if to say something but it quickly closed when the waiter presented himself with our plates. As he set our plates down, he pronounced the name of the dish before sauntering off to a nearby table.
The presentation was beautiful. There was an array of colors which made the dish stand out and look luxurious. The plate looked like something you would see on Masterchef.
I felt my heart stop as I stared at the dish. Not because it was so elegant, but because of the big fat scallops sitting in the center of the plate.
I looked up from the plate to Mr. Morrentti.
He had straightened from his relaxed posture and was slightly leaning forward onto the table with his forearms. His eyebrows were furrowed and all cockiness was wiped off his face and replaced with what I assumed to be nervousness.
I couldn't pinpoint his expression since I had never seen it before on him.
However, it was quickly wiped away when I started laughing.
"What are the odds, huh?" I shook my head with a wide smile as I turned the plate around. I was trying to size up my enemy and estimate how big of a battle this was going to be.
His deep chuckle floated to my ears and when I looked up, I nearly passed out. My chest tightened and I felt myself lean in slightly to get a better look at the vision in front of me.
There was no denying Mason was handsome.
He was rugged and masculine. His features were sharp, yet soft where it mattered.
He made women take second looks or even stare.
I, myself, have been a victim of that effect.
This all occurred when he was sulking or wearing his massive resting bitch face so it never occurred to me just how perfect he was when he was happy.
Words couldn't do him justice. Hearing his laugh filled me with warmth, especially knowing I caused it.
His smile was wide, showcasing his wide smile and soft dimples.
His eyes were bright, the skin around his eyes slightly crinkling with the intensity of his smile.
He looked so happy, so young and unbothered.
I tried to sear the image of him like this into my brain, knowing it probably had no place being there either way. I justified it by telling myself it was nice to make others laugh and be happy.
Maybe I stared too long, but I couldn't help myself. It wasn't every day that Mason Morrentti smiled and I was not gonna let that sight pass me by.
There was a slight buzz in the air as we looked at each other. I felt all my senses come alive. The soft violin glided through the air, accompanied by the quiet chatter of other guests around us. Our eyes were locked, unmoving from one another's.
His hand reached up and he rubbed his chin softly with his palm. He swiped over his mouth and suddenly his smile was gone, replaced with his infamous neutral expression.
"I can order you something else if you'd like."
His suggestion warmed my heart, but I didn't want to waste food and something told me he had been excited for me to try it. Why else order for someone else, right?
"Nonsense, we can't waste food. Today will just have to be the day I conquer scallops." I shrugged as I picked up my utensils.
"Ophelia, seriously. I can order you something else."
"Stop. It's okay, honestly." My stomach churned as I cut into the scallop. I hope he didn't notice how I tried to bid myself some time by cutting them into tiny pieces. As I glanced up to look at him, the concern in his eyes let me know he noticed.
I took a small bite and gave him a tightlipped smile as motivation for him to start eating. My expression must have eased whatever hesitation he had as he slowly dug into his meal.
In all honesty, if I was ever going to attempt eating scallops again this was probably the best place to try. They tasted delicious, but I just couldn't get over the mental aspect.
We ate in silence. It was comfortable and pleasant. There was something nice about being able to be quiet with someone without it being awkward or feeling the need to fill the silence with conversation.
I managed to finish the plate, which I think surprised us both. After he paid the bill, he drove us back to my apartment. The silence accompanied us in the car as the low sound of music played throughout.
He parked in front of my building. I turned to face him only to find him already looking at me. I tightened my grip on my bag as I untied myself.
"Thank you for dinner. It was great." I offered a small smile as I tried to fight off the suggestion of coming in from slipping off my tongue.
This was not a date. It was a failed business meeting. You do not invite your boss, more importantly, the person you are trying to fool, in to watch a movie.
His expression was passive, vacant of any emotion. The only action letting me know he had heard was the small tight nod he gave.
"Well, see you on Monday?"
Again, he nodded.
"Okay, good night." Once more he nodded only this time his face was pinched as if annoyed.
I stepped out and made my way to the entrance. There was a little piece of me that hoped he would turn off his car and ask me to come in. It got stomped on when he drove off after the entrance door closed behind me.
It was late. Way past the time I was normally up. I probably should be catching up on some sleep before my shift at the bar tomorrow but Ophelia had called. We hadn't spoken in a couple of days and she was so excited I couldn't cut her off.
I told her about what happened tonight and was quickly scolded when I told her she had a newfound aversion to soup. She seemed to be very happy, which made me extremely happy.
She was showing me a few things she had bought for me at a market when the doorbell rang. I got off the couch and made my way there as I giggled at something she said.
I opened the door and froze as my eyes clashed with amber ones.
"Hey, you forgot this in my car. I thought you might need it." In his outstretched hand, he had my hairclip. He came all this way, after several hours, just to return my clip.
"Who is that? Is that a man? You did not tell me you were see-"
"I'll call you back. I love you, bye!" I ended the facetime and looked back to Mason.
"Sorry-uh that was my sister."
"Your twin?"
"Ya."
Several seconds passed as we stared at each other, not knowing what to say. I was caught off guard, not expecting this. If anything, this was the last possible outcome of how I expected this night to end.
"Anyways, I just wanted to bring it to you in case you needed it. I'll let you get back to your sister." He stuffed his hands into his pockets.
"Thank you." I said, softly.
He looked at me for a long pause before turning on his heel and walking towards the staircase.
"Mr. Morrentti?" I called out.
"Yeah?" He stopped in his steps and turned to face me questioningly.
"Would you like to come in?"
"I shouldn't. You should get back to your sister."
"Oh, trust me you'd be doing me a favor by coming in." I laughed as I leaned against the door frame. "She heard your voice. She'll be spam texting and calling until something else occupies her time."
"How would I be doing you a favor?"
I hummed as I thought of my response.
"Well, having company would mean I'm off my phone which would mean I don't have to be on my phone."
"I shouldn't."
"Then, don't." I shrugged off the door frame and stood tall straight in front of him. He had gotten closer throughout the conversation. We stood in front of each other, the energy around us crackling.
He reached up and brushed his knuckles along my jaw. It reminded me of when he did the same thing after he came back to work after he had been sick. The movement so soft and tender.
"I can't."
"No one is forcing you to." I whispered as my gaze flickered between each of his amber honey eyes. They were dark and yet somehow full of light.
His knuckles drifted past my jawline down my neck with featherlight pressure. I nearly closed my eyes at the sensation.
"Your offer is tempting but it's late. I should go."
Something told me the offer wasn't the only thing tempting him but he was right. We couldn't do this. So, I agreed and offered a small smile as I stepped back into my apartment, away from him.
"Good night, Mr. Morrentti."
"Good night."
After I closed the door, I stood in the doorway for several minutes hoping I'd hear a doorbell or a knock ring throughout. They never did.
Written 1/7
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