5 - Things about love are off-limit

Monica and Sly made it through the doors of the traditional Japanese restaurant. As usual, Sky's hand snaked around her. A closeness she was getting accustomed to. She slowly began to accept that there was no way she was going to ever do what she loved. She was going to try her best to adapt to Sly’s ways for which one way was getting used to places like this.

The thought did not in any way make things better for her. She admired the neat traditionally set up restaurant. Seated were men and women from different races and colors. She saw them eating with two sticks and her stomach steamed. She never learned how to eat with chopsticks.

The man who waited on them’s conduct was a clear indication that Sly frequented this place. “Mr. Norman, we are honored to have you with us once again; we still have your slot reserved,” he bowed gently. Monica wondered when he made that reservation, a question that will only create confusion in her mind.

Were all billionaires like Sly? The ones she's met were arrogant just like him but she could see his soft side too even if it's fake.

“Thank you,” Sly said before he led Monica to a private room. Monica gaped at the sight but for once, she would have preferred eating in the open than alone with Sly. He pulled a chair for her and the meal was served. A frown crept onto her face. She didn’t know what kind of food that was. She wished she could have a simple pizza instead.

"What's with that frown? Never eaten sushi in your life?" Sly's tone was casual so Monica wasn't tense.

"No, only heard the name a couple of times," she confessed.

"I see," Sly chuckled. 

Monica stared at the food called sushi. She didn't see any problem with it except the chopsticks beside the plate. The aroma of sushi increased her stomach acids but Monica will not pick up the chopsticks for fear of embarrassing herself.

Sly noticed her awkward gaze on the chopsticks and gave her a weak smile. “Here, I will teach you. He picked up her chopsticks for her, demonstrating how they should be held. Monica tried but lost her grip, dropping sushi on her dress. Her face flushed, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry, it took me quite some time to get used to it. Let's break the rules and use our hands," he winked, picking up a piece between two fingers. Monica gawked at him like he was an alien. Before she said Jack, the slice of sushi in his hand was begging for entrance to her mouth. Monica’s flush deepened, as Sly fed her every bit of Sushi. 

Her discomfort around him was curtailed, his soft side being romantic. The fact that it was public play was now fixated on her mind. She read no deeper meaning into his actions.

“I will drop you at the beauty spa for a make-over while I head briefly to the office. I will come and take you home by the time you finish,” Sly divulged. Monica’s heart twitched. She always had her hair done at home and never visited a hairdressing saloon and sly is going to leave her with some strange people all alone? She will rather be with Sly than another stranger. At least she was convinced she will be well treated when in public. The events of the house will remain unknown till she gets there.

“Is….Is it necessary? I mean, does it have to be today?”

“Yes, Monica, tomorrow will be another busy day for you,” Sly hinted.

Monica was nervous. She planned on sleeping through tomorrow but it seems it has already been prearranged. “What is going to happen tomorrow, Mr. Sylvester Norman?”

Sly creased his brow, "Jeez Monica, you are so raw. Call me Sly or Vester. There's no woman out there who calls her husband the way you just did."

"Sorry Sly, what's going to happen tomorrow?"

“A little patience and you will see. I don’t want you to think that I am a bad person but even if I am, I will never hurt my contract wife,” he winked. “And trust me, you need this make-over,” he insisted.

Monica did not say a word but neither did she disagree. Sly opened a glass of red wine and poured her some. “I’ve never tasted alcohol,” she grimaced. 

“I will teach you how to drink it. It will be served at almost every event we attend. You can’t sit around like a teetotaler,” he said. Monica knew he was right, remembering what happened at the Jewelry shop.

“But…what if I get drunk?” She bit her lower lip. Sly looked away. The sight was seductive to him and he didn’t want to let down his guard. Even with that, he did not tell her how her innocent behaviors were driving him crazy. 

“I will teach you how to drink without getting drunk, starting from now. So, lift your glass and take a sip. Just a sip,” he reminded her. Monica reluctantly stretched her hand to take the glass of red wine Sly held towards her. With shaky hands, she took it. “Always remember to relax. I can’t hurt you in any way," he assured her.  Her nerves calmed and she held the glass gently but firm. Just as she saw Sly hold it.

“Good, you learn fast. Now, go ahead.” She took a sip, a frown lining the corner of her mouth,  she accessed the smoky-fruity taste on her tongue, feeling smooth on her throat. She smiled, “Not bad.”

“Good. Enough for the day,” Sly exclaimed, standing from his chair. Before he realized it, Monica had gulped down the remaining content without warning. The empty wine glass was enough proof she couldn’t defend when Sly’s gaze locked on it.

“Did you?”

Monica smirked. “I just wanted to have another taste,” the wine in a way, relaxed her, lifting a bit of her confidence. 

“You should have just told me. I would have waited for you to sip slowly till you’ve had enough. Never gulp down wine like that, unless you want to get drunk,” he warned sternly.

This time, Monica didn’t feel shy. She wasn’t drunk but she felt calm and just a bit talkative. Sly held her by the waist, as usual, leading her to the door. “Aren’t we going to pay,” her eye moved around, looking for a cashier.

Sly chuckled. “Am a member. I pay dues.” Whatever that was, Monica didn’t understand but neither did she ask.

“So, have you ever been in love,” Monica asked with instant regret after she noticed the frown on Sly’s face, darkening his green eyes, and making them look greener. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that,” she countered.

“Yes, I have been in love before but it's none of your business,” his icy tone intimidated Monica, coiling her back to her shell. Her little confidence, broken once again. She lowered her gaze. She wasn’t dumb.

She knew she had crossed a limit and resolved to stick to the contract but how was she supposed to make it real when she knew little or nothing at all about him? She wanted to ask him but decided against it. As if Sly read her mind, he spoke.

“I will tell you what you need to know about me but things about love are off-limit do you understand?” His voice was cold, in response, Monica once again chose silence.

The drive to the spa was in awkward silence. There was a lot on Monica’s mind she did not dare ask. The alcohol had given her little confidence yet, it was uprooted before it germinated. As soon as they arrived at the spa, Monica attempted to open the door. She didn’t want to upset sly any further.

“Sit, I will get the door,” Sly stopped her with a deep growl. She obeyed instantly. He made his way and opened the door. Just as his arm snaked around her waist, his practiced signature smile returned flawlessly. Monica could never understand him even if she tried.

They were greeted at the door by a guy who introduced himself as Jeremy. “Mr. Norman, I didn’t expect you to have another haircut soon.”

“Am not here for a haircut, silly, I brought my wife for a makeover. I will be back soon and remember to keep it professional,” he warned, abruptly kissing Monica on the cheek without warning. Surprise covered her light-brown eyes, seeing him disappear around the door.

As soon as the door shut, a group of girls, probably workers in the shop swarmed around her. “I’ll take care of the hair,” one of them grimaced. “I’ll do her pedicure,” another smirked. “I’ll take care of the manicure,” the third one smiled. “Leave the facials for me,” Jeremy smirked. “And remember to keep it professional. You don’t want to offend Mr. Norman,” he warned.