Chapter 4: Fancy Dining

[Cara]

I woke up the next morning with a bludgeoning headache blasting at the back of my skull. But it was Nancy’s terrified scream that shoots me out of my bed, stumbling into the floor before dashing out from my room and bolting to the living area. 

She looked like a mess standing right next to the couch. Drool dried up at the side of her mouth, eyes wide in shock. With the suddenly heightened alert, I snatch the closest thing I could reach my hand on—which by the way happens to be my very expensive decorative vase. Not that it matters more than the safety of my friend.

“What? What happened? Who’s there?” I swung the vase like it was the most lethal weapon in the world as I panicked and moved up to Nancy. “Show yourself! I am not fucking afraid of you!”

“Geez, Cara, relax. You sounded like a lunatic.” Nancy grip my arms and took the vase I was holding.

Flabbergasted at her calm demeanor as though she hadn’t freaked her lungs out just a moment ago, I glared at the crazy woman. “What?” Taking calming breaths and chanting inside my blasting stupid brain not to scratch her face. “Then why the hell are you screaming like someone is about to butcher you?”

Nancy sighs and rolled her eyes as if annoyed, and she really had the audacity to do just that.

“I was screaming at the cuteness of these flowers,” then she pointed to the table. “Look! Aren’t they adorable?”

My gaze followed her finger, and there, elegantly perched atop my glass coffee table. Right in the middle of the mess we left last night was a basket filled with beautiful flowers.

“What the fuck?” I could vividly see my face contorting with both horrified and astonished expressions.

He was here and just left not too long. The flowers are still freshly picked. Few drops of morning dew beading on the petals.

“Since when did you get one of these?” Nancy asks, her brain still soaked up with all the vodka she drank last night, rendering her dumb to even realize that I didn’t get these for myself.

“Uhm, Nancy…I didn’t,” I sneered. “That wasn’t fucking here last night.”

“Oh…” It took a while before her eyes widened, finally dawning on her pretty brain what just happened. “Oh!”

“Yeah, oh!” I was the one rolling my eyes this time, retorting with dripping sarcasm.

She frowned, mumbling under her breath. “Sorry.”

Shaking my head with a pounding headache, I collapse into the couch, massaging my temple. “God girl, you’re going to give me a heart attack.”

“So, he was here last night.”

“Apparently and we’re too drunk to even notice him.”

Nancy took her phone, snapping pictures of the flowers. I just stared at her, watching how her jaw eventually unhinged, her eyes almost bulging out from their sockets.

“What?” Curious, I stood up, ignoring the heavy feeling in my head, and peered at her phone screen. Not expecting to see her browsing up the prizes for each flower and the numbers I was seeing were just unbelievable.

One is called a Juliet Rose, widely known for its distinctive full-cupped shape and beautiful apricot petals. What is even crazier is that it took fifteen years to cultivate. The others were tulips, exotic orchids, lilies, and moonflowers. 

“Damn! These are all hell expensive. This one is no ordinary stalker, Cara.” Nancy muttered, still in sheer disbelief as she lowered her phone.

It feels like my headache just had gone worst.

“Obviously.”

I wanted to throw it away, but seeing the prizes made me think otherwise.

My phone suddenly blasted in the background, blaring so loudly and exacerbating the pounding on my skull. Groaning, I padded my way to retrieve it in my bedroom. Flashing on the screen was my dearest mother.

I slide the green button to answer her call.

“Yes mom,” I tried to cheer up my voice, not wanting to make her think that something was off with me.

“Hi sweetie, I called just to remind you about the dinner we set for tonight.”

Shit! I completely forgot about it.

“Oh…” I faltered and tried to sound as if I remembered it. “Right, dinner tonight.”

But my mom knows me well. “Cara...”

Of course...

“Don’t worry mom, I promise will be there,” I say in assurance, immediately putting her at ease.

A sigh of relief resounded on the other line, “Good. See you tonight sweetie. Love you.”

“Love you,” I meekly replied before the telltale end-call chime followed.

I blew out a deep breath, dropping myself into my bed while staring at my ceiling. Too many things running through my mind at once. All mainly to the mystery man who just sent me a million dollars basket of flowers. Then, this dinner tonight, and I already had a hint of what it was all about.

Gosh, Cara. 

Putting everything behind us, Nancy and I were miraculously able to make it on time to the office. We promised not to talk about what happened for the rest of the day. We both suffered from hangovers and weren’t in the mood the entire time.

Fortunately, none of the employees seemed to fuck around me after sensing my deathly aura.

Time seemed to have skipped and dinner has come. I am already on my way to the fancy restaurant mom had reserved for us. 

Nancy went to her condo after work, too drained to even tease me again. I, on the other hand, struggled to make myself presentable. Fitting into my glittery silver tube dress that had a high slit on the side, flaunting my smooth legs, leaving only a little to anyone’s imagination. Strapped on a pair of red killer heels. I just hope I won’t trip into something and break my neck.

Moments later, I pulled my car to a stop and gave the key to the valet waiting at the entrance. One of the attendants immediately recognize me and veered me inside without asking questions. I glance around and see dining tables strategically set as if her majesty the queen and her entourage were to be expected in the place. White flowers with silver sparkles adorn the tables. The lights are dimmed low and classical music plays in the background creating a placid ambiance.

I immediately saw my mom and dad already settled into one of the exclusives space at the restaurant. But one thing I noticed was that another man was sitting along with them. Dressed in a full black tuxedo. He had his back on me, but dread suddenly swelled in my gut when a familiar presence punched into my senses, pricking at the back of my neck. Eliciting cold sweats into my palm.

Mom was the first one to notice me and she stands up quickly to meet me halfway. “Cara, my dear. You’re finally here.”

“Mom.” I kissed her on the cheeks and then went to dad to give him a peck as well all the while refusing to look at the man watching me so heatedly. “Dad.”

I straightened up, locking my knees as I finally mustered the courage to steer my gaze into the man waiting for my attention. 

It’s him. 

My instincts were kicking in so wildly and telling me that it was really him. His almond-shaped, dark eyes met mine. So dark that I could easily mistake them for black. A mischievous grin played so subtly on his familiar lips. A square jaw, littered with stubborn stubbles, and a golden stud pierced on his left ear. He had a menacing feel about him. 

“Mr. Montreal, I’m pleased to introduce you to my only child, Cara.” My dad spoke, breaking me out of my frozen trance.

Montreal. The name ring a bell from my distant memory, but I just couldn’t point my finger at it.

The man stood up, easily towering over my petite size as he rake his gaze on my frame. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cara. The dress suits you well.”

His statement confused me a little, but it went unheeded when disappointment plummeted in my stomach upon hearing his voice. 

He doesn’t sound like my phantom. Otherwise, I would have recognized him immediately. 

He extended his hand in front of me and I couldn’t help but stare at it for a moment. Thinking if it was the same huge hands that touched me the night before. Those long and thick fingers might have gone inside me, bringing down ruptured ecstasy.

Disbelief reeled into my head into thinking I have mistaken a different man as my stalker.

Gosh, Cara!

Snapping out of my senses, I gathered my wits and greeted him politely. 

Ignoring my suddenly ragged breaths.

“The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Montreal.” I take his hand and was about to shake it, but to my surprise, he brought it up to his lips and placed a lingering kiss on the back of my palm. 

My heart went immediately crazy, familiar sensation sparks instantly tingling into my skin just with the brief contact. Still, a part of my brain refused to believe that this is a different man and not my stalker.

How the hell do they feel the so same? God must be playing jokes on me right now.

“Please, call me Damon,” he softly requested, unwillingly letting my hand go. I tried not to squirm under his scorching stare and pay no attention to the uneasy feeling throbbing between my legs.

Plastering a sweet smile, I steeled my spine and calm façade while my heart barreled on my chest.

“Damon,” I echoed, his name effortlessly sliding off my lips.

How are two distinct men able to feel so awfully alike?

Or have I just gone completely insane into having wishful thinking that this man is my phantom?