Eps. 9 – Bad Dinner

(Kayshila)

          I haven't heard from Ishan in almost a week. Several times I had meetings with employees whom Ishan sent to the company to meet me. Sometimes also meet Mrs Sarah. No chat comes to my phone. One of his social media stories was empty.

          "Cit, someone wants to meet you in the front lobby." Inggrid opened the door to my small room. I moved my head away from the laptop. I immediately looked at Ingrid while frowning my forehead.

          "Who?" I asked, then I stood up.

          "I do not know. I just came out of the toilet. A florist maybe."

          Inggrid closed the door to my room and disappeared into her desk. I passed the expanse of employee desks. My career is outstanding in this company because from the beginning; I worked very hard. Maybe also because I was the first employee where this company was starting. In comparison, Inggrid is a new employee. Maybe two years in this company. I don't remember. The first person who accompanied me was Mrs Sarah. She's a great mentor. I used to go everywhere with her. But now, I'm rarely alone with Mrs Sarah. Our workloads are different. Mrs Sarah and I communicate more in the office and chat. After all, Mrs Sarah's job is mainly handled by me.

          I found the person who was looking for me. He's a bit young. I think I've seen it. I'm sure. His clothes look very neat.

          "Miss Citra, here you get a delivery."

          "Yes." I grabbed a red rose which still had a few leaves pinned to it.

          "Thank you, Mrs.," he said and was about to leave.

          I even tilted my head. I was staring at the red rose. Why is he the one thanking me?

          "Wait Mr. Who is this from?"

          "From my boss."

          Then, the man left. I just remembered that he was the man Ishan had brought and sat behind Ishan when the big meeting was held last week. I'm still stunned. I watched the man disappear and got into the elevator. I went back to my room and wanted to grab my phone and tell Ishan, but I couldn't. I just took a clean glass mug on the small table beside my desk and poured a little water into the mug, then put a rose in it. The funny thing is, I took a photo of it and posted the picture on my social media.

          Afternoon rose.

          Write me.

          A few minutes later, my cell phone rang.

          ishan

          "Hello." I replied casually.

          "Thanks."

          "What for?"

          "You received the rose even if it was just a sprig." he said.

"Hmm, you saw it on I*******m." I'm guessing.

          Then the conversation was silent for a few seconds.

          "Can we have dinner? Seven o'clock at night?" he asked seriously.

          "Okay. Where?" I accepted the offer.

          "I will send you the name of restaurant."

          "Okay."

          "Well, see you later, Citra."

          "Yes."

          I hung up our phone.

          It was almost six in the afternoon, and I should have started getting ready for the restaurant Ishan was referring to. It takes to get to the restaurant can take more than an hour due to rush hours. I arrived ten minutes past seven. There was no chat or call from Ishan during my journey to this restaurant. I put lipstick on my lips before getting out of the car and entering the restaurant; few parked vehicles. As I strolled towards the restaurant, someone spoke to me in the back.

          "I thought you weren't coming. I almost called you." said Ishan. He put his arm around my waist and walked together towards the table. The waiter who saw Ishan immediately recognized his face, then led us to the table Ishan had reserved in advance. Our table is near the window, and the outside may be a garden equipped with beautiful garden lights. It's quiet. Even Ishan talking to his servant lowered his voice somewhat.

          "How are you?"

          "Well."

          "Is my job tiring you out or…"

          "That's my job." I cut it.

          The waiter came over to us with a push tray already filled with plates. It turned out that Ishan had ordered the food menu beforehand. The consideration may be because so as not to wait too long.

          "What do you want to drink?" Ishan looks at the menu book. "I haven't ordered a drink yet."

          I also looked at the menu book.

          "Maybe lemon tea, okay? It's warm, sis. Two." tell Ishan.

          "Hot lemon tea. Two. All right, sir, wait for it." The waiter was busy taking notes.

          I said nothing when Ishan ordered warm lemon tea. I think that's okay too.

          "Ishan, can you explain what you meant last week at my apartment?" I started asking. Ishan, who began to pry the clam meat in the pile of tiny shells, immediately stopped. His eyes glanced at me without changing his entire body.

          "I'm just mad."

          "Just?" I pointed the fork I was holding at his face.

          He nodded.

          "Then?" I need a more detailed explanation.

          Suddenly, a slow-playing song rang out, bothering me a lot. This restaurant is a bit quiet. There weren't many visitors, but I suddenly felt suffocated. My palms started to sweat, and my head started to spin. I feel sick. The fork I was holding just now slipped out of my hand. Ishan looked at me for a moment. I quickly grabbed my head and then moved to my ear. Yes, I covered my ears.

          "Citra? What's wrong with you? Is there something wrong with the food?" Ishan turns panicked. He stood up, approached me, and he prostrated before me. "Citra?! Please tell me." Ishan held my sweaty hands. My breath was starting to hitch.

          "Turn off the song. The song." I said quietly. Tiny.

          Ishan stood up and shouted at one of the waiters who was standing in the corner arranging some plates, "Turn off the song! Turn off!"

          I could hear Ishan shouting to all the waiters. Maybe the rest of the restaurant diners were looking at him. But he doesn't care.

          "Citra, do you want to go to the car? Or do you want to go home?" bargain. He bowed down in front of me again. The song has stopped. I slowly took a deep breath through my nose and let it out through my mouth. Many times until I calm down.

          "How's Citra?" Ishan is still waiting for me. Keep prostrating in front of me.

          "I'm still hungry." I answered.

          Ishan breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. He finally returned to his seat, but he pulled up his chair and sat beside me. He helped me peel the clams and watched me eat. We didn't talk much after that. We focused on food, and when we wanted to go home, Ishan accompanied me to walk to the parking lot.

          "I'm the one driving." Ishan grabbed my car keys and quickly got into the driver's seat. When he starts my car engine, I'm still glued to the outside. The sound of a car horn woke me up, and I got in.

          "Let Teguh follow us from behind." Ishan glanced in the rearview mirror.

          "Teguh? Who?"

          "The man who delivered the flowers this afternoon."

          "Ohhh." I nodded my head.

          When we encountered the first red light, Ishan took a deep breath.

          "I was angry with you then. Because you are slow to respond to my chat. Plus your phone doesn't turn on. I thought something happened to you. I asked Dewa, he said you were home. Until finally I waited for you at the apartment and I waited for you. But you really don't show up." Ishan tells. I didn't feel any break from the story—the feeling.

          "Traffic hours."

          "I know you got trafficked. I didn't even realize that you actually got stuck in traffic at that hour."

          "Then?" I asked again.

          "Yeah I'm hungry."

          "Yeah, you ate the food. I see."

          Ishan chuckled.

          "Citra?"

          "Hmmm." I muttered. Leaning my head.

          "Are you still willing to be my witness at the police station later?" Ishan asked timidly. "And claim to be my fiancé?"

          "You gave me flowers and took me to dinner, so I could be your witness? Plus I have to admit to being your fiancé?"

          Ishan quickly turned to me and then looked forward again. Stay focused on driving.

          "No. No. I really wanted to give you flowers and take you to dinner."

          "But see the truth?"

          "I just wanted to ask for your humility." he said. "Asking for your help to solve my problem."

          "What's my reward?" I asked.

          Ishan smirked.

          "You want multiple projects from my company? I can give it to you."

          I just mumbled. I was not responding.

          Until finally, Ishan parked my car in the parking lot that I had rented in this apartment.

          "Thanks for driving." I said as I took off my seat belt.

          Ishan takes my hand. I could feel his fingers grazing the scars on my skin. I know Ishan is a playboy. I also knew he was trying to seduce me for his purposes.

          I immediately removed my hand from him.

          "I am willing to serve you."

          I smiled sarcastically. What's happened with this man? Drunk or…

          "What do you mean? Please explain."

          Ishan saw me. He groaned and opened his seat belt. Open the car door. Surprisingly, he leaned towards me instead. I automatically dodged my body backwards to avoid his approaching body.

          "I'm willing to die for you. Tell me. What do I have to do for you?" he asked. His face is handsome and looks seductive. "Should I climb a mountain? I have to walk across the ocean?"

          Instantly I laughed. I can't hide my amusement for Ishan. Annoying, but he brings a good side to me.

          He didn't seem to think that what he said was funny.

          "Even though I asked you to help me be a witness and be my fiancé. I really want to be close to you." he said. It made me stop laughing. His face was severe.

          "Do you like me?" I asked bluntly. My heart beats fast.

          "You ask me that?" Ishan looks shocked.

          Ishan cleared his throat loudly. He leaned back into mine. I slowly moved my body backwards. Can not. Ishan grabbed my body close to him with one of his hands and kissed me quickly on the lips, then opened the car door, then ran laughing and shouting from a distance.

          "I CALL YOU LATER!!" he shouted as he ran.

          I'm still gawking in the car.

          When I want to sleep, I'm still checking my phone, and it's full of mentions on my social media. Ishan updated the story. Seen myself chewing food deliciously without speaking for 10 seconds, with the words

It looks like this woman is hungry @kays.citraaaa

          Damn shit.

          My cell phone rings.

          ishan

          "Ishan, what are you doing with a status update like that!? Delete it or not!?"

          "It is funny."

          "All your hardline fans follow me and leave nasty comments."

          "Oh? I'll take care of it later. I'll take it to the office tomorrow. Good night, Citra."

          Tuuuuuuttt

          I started again. That night I felt like grabbing someone, kicking him, and slapping him.

****