Chapter 5

Saturday couldn’t have taken any longer to arrive. 

It had been a tortuous twelve hours for Theodore, as he couldn’t find himself having peace with the thought of meeting Abigail again. 

He still didn’t know what he'd 'talk' to her about, and he acknowledged that the only reason why she agreed was because she was curious about what he needed to say to her.  They didn’t necessarily agree to have coffee like normal people. Abigail asked why he'd sought her out and he told her that he needed to talk to her about something. 

Why didn’t he just be normal and simply ask her to catch up or something? 

Nonetheless, seeing her under these terms was better than not seeing her at all. At nine o'clock sharp, he pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex and made his way to her door. 

Her roommate, who he still hadn’t learnt the name of, answered the door with a beaming smile on her face. 

"Good morning," the woman chirped and Theodore politely nodded at her as he gently returned her smile. 

"Good morning. Is Abigail ready?" 

"Not quite," she said. "Come in." She stepped aside to let Theodore inside and he wasted no time in taking in everything about the tiny apartment after mumbling a thanks. 

It was your average New Yorkian loft, with the coziest looking furniture crammed into the one apartment. It was neat and he could see Abagail living here. 

Still, he oddly desired more for her, like somewhere where she could stay in the kick back and see the beautiful coast and all the city beneath her. Somewhere where she could sit on a balcony and enjoy the  warm evening  breeze, and have wine in a living room couch-set larger than this room itself. 

But why? He didn't even know her. 

The little he knew and could see showed him that she had enough stress and troubles to last her a lifetime, and now she deserves to be pampered and spoiled. Theodore didn't so much have any intentions to do it himself, but if he got the chance, he surely would. 

He sat comfortably in their comfy chair as he heard the shuffling from the other room as if Abigail was rushing to find something. The walls were thin enough to tell. He didn’t feel uncomfortable, but he felt like a giant in the small apartment. Even his guest bathroom was a little bigger than the living room itself, and he felt guilty and judgmental simply by the small thought. 

"Water?" The woman who had opened the door asked as she handed him a glass of water, and he accepted it out of politeness. He took a sip and placed it on the coffee table as she sat on the opposite chair. 

"Don’t worry, it's not tap water," she joked, but he didn’t pick up on the humour. His eyes grew wider as he gazed at her apologetically. 

"No I didn’t mean to offend you by not drinking it-" 

"It's okay." She laughed as she waved him off. "Chill, I was just joking." 

She continued to laugh and he strained a smile. Theodore only grew more anxious. He didn’t have much experience talking to people who didn’t own at least one jet and a private island, and the last thing he wanted to do was offend Abigail or make her feel like he's implying that he's 'better' than her. 

Wealthy people sometimes do that without realizing, and well, people who are not so wealthy often take the slightest things the wrong way. How could he be too safe? 

"What's your name?" Theodore asked, wanting to clear the air of his embarrassment. 

"Najay. Nice to meet you." Najay smiled warmly and outstretched her hand for him to shake. With a small smile, he took it. 

"Theodore. Nice to meet you too." 

"Oh I know." She chuckled. "I know who you are, I mean." 

"Oh?" 

"You're all over the papers and business magazines. I was shocked when Abigail told me she didn’t know you from before, and she works and studies business." Najay scoffed  with a playful eye roll. Theodore could already see why Abigail got along with her. She seemed like an easy person to talk to let alone live with. 

"Interesting." For some odd reason, the fact that Abigail didn’t know who he was slightly pleased him. He could build who he wanted to be to her in her eyes freshly. That is, if she didn’t G****e him before.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. I woke up late and-" A flustered looking Abigail rushed from the hallway with everything dropping out of her purse as if she shoved them in it. 

Theodore moved on impulse and rose from his seat to help her gather the fallen items, and her cheeks burnt in embarrassment. 

"That's okay. Your friend was keeping my company just fine," he told her as they rose simultaneously. Abigail's eyes sat on Najay, locking her gaze in silent question as if asking what she told Theodore. 

But Najay simply raised her hands in mock surrender, showing her that she didn’t leak any embarrassing moments or deep dark secrets. Abigail didn’t even know that she slightly yearned for Theodore's approval. It was stupid, thought.

"Shall we go?" Theodore asked as he held the door open despite the fact that it was her home. She nodded once and shot a quick wave at her friend before slipping through the door. 

"I'll see you," he said to Najay, offering yet another smile. 

"I hope so." She giggled but he didn’t hear her snarky comment. She only hoped Theodore could crack that hard shell of Abi's. 

No one had since this day, and she knew that her friend couldn’t live like this forever. 

Najay couldn’t believe her ears when Abigail told her that Theodore asked her to coffee. When he stopped by earlier last night, Najay had almost fainted when she saw him standing in her doorway and she was convinced he had the wrong apartment until he asked for Abigail. It was then that hope sparked in her, and after seeing how nervous he obviously was in comparison to his rough, bold exterior she always saw in magazines, Najay believed that this could just be it. 

Fingers crossed. 

"How are you today?" Theodore asked Abigail as they hit the morning fresh air. He still kept a few feet between them, remembering her flinching whenever he was near. 

"I'm fine. You?" 

"I'm great, thanks." He held the door open for her, and she quickly slipped in his high BMW x6. She wasn’t even shocked that he owned such a car. After her thorough research on him last night despite her fatigue, she knew he could probably afford the whole city. 

The seats were warm and cushioned as she adjusted to its comfort and she resisted the urge to run her hand over the dashboard, wondering how it managed to stay so crisp and shiny. Did he even use this car? 

"So I was thinking we could go to Brown's Cafe. Is that okay with you?" Theodore's voice broke her from her thoughts as he joined her on the driver side. 

She nodded. "That's perfect. It's not too far from here." 

"I know. That's why I chose it." 

"Oh and it's not because it's across the street from your company?" 

Shit, she knows who he is. Was Najay lying? Or were his suspicions confirmed and she actually did her research on him? 

"Hhmm. Okay maybe 50% of the reason was because that’s where my assistant buys my coffee because it's the best in Queens," he confessed. 

"And the croissants." She agreed with a moan before erupting in a series of chuckles. The very sound was contagious and Theodore couldn’t help but join in. 

Her laugh was so beautiful. And her smile, it was the first time he saw her face light up like this in a smile, and he wanted to take a picture and let it stay in his mind forever. 

He almost ran a red light simply because he kept stealing glances at the small smile that remained on her face even in the silence. But still, her eyes were as distant as the far west and he wanted to know why. 

They pulled up in front of the cafe at about 9:40, and as Abigail hopped from the car when Theodore was on his way to open the door for her, he noticed how her expression had changed. He then remembered how he had boldly blurted out that he wanted to speak to her as if he had something important to talk about, which he didn’t. 

Small talk, he decided. He will initiate and keep a steady flow of small talk and hope something comes up. Or better yet, they enjoy each other's company so much that she forgets. 

But what did she think he wanted to say to her? Her face was anything but relaxed. Did she think he wanted to say something bad to her? 

Theodore frowned at the thought. He would never harm a woman even if she committed the biggest crime against him. He wanted her to know that--needed her to know that. 

"Welcome to Brown's Cafe. How may I help you?" A short teen with curly blonde hair asked as they walked in. Abi hugged her coat around her as Theodore glanced at her expectantly and  she ordered  a cup of cappuccino. 

"That's all? Don’t you want croissants too?" 

She shuffled uncomfortably and dropped her gaze from his. "Well yes but I didn’t bring enough money to get that too." 

Theodore stared at her with his mouth slightly agape in disbelief. "You thought I was going to make you pay for your own coffee?" 

A part of him felt offended that she didn’t give him so much of a gentleman-like thought. But then a bigger part of him felt sad. Has no one ever shown her the mere decency of chivalry? 

"That will be two cappuccinos, four croissants, pancakes--oh and two of those lovely blueberry muffins." Theodore ordered swiftly, not even waiting to hear if she approved, before leading her to a booth by the window. 

He was looking directly across the street at Vintage Wines' headquarters, and his gaze traveled all the way to the top floor where  his office sat. They were closed on Saturdays, but he still felt drawn to the building. 

"I'm sorry if I offended you." Abigail’s small voice stabbed through his thoughts and he caught her gazing down at her hands across the table. He resisted the urge to reach across and caress her fingers, but he knew she'd pull away.

"You didn’t offend me," he lied only for the mere sake of her happiness. "I was just a bit shocked." 

"Barely anyone has shown me the kindness in over a year that you have in one only one morning. I guess I'm just used to fending for myself." She lifted her head to meet his eyes. She sighed. 

His eyes. 

Theodore didn’t know it but they were always so intense and full of emotion. They were scrutinizing and questioning, as if they'd dig into her soul and search for answers. 

Little did she know that this was exactly what he was trying to do, but was failing miserably. 

"That can be both good and bad. You're independent and that’s admirable. But courtesy is not dead in the world. You should know that." 

Abigail chuckled humorlessly but nodded nonetheless. "Thanks for reminding me." 

Theodore couldn’t tell if her words were sincere, or if they were stirring memories in her head to remind her that courtesy seemed indeed dead to her. He knew it was the latter, but ignored it. 

"So you work at Vanx club." 

Here it comes. Abigail knew something like this would come up. She anticipated all sorts of conversations they could have, and this was one of them. 

The waitress placed their coffees in front of them along with two stacks of pancakes, muffins and Abigail's favorites, croissants. She took this as  the chance to keep conversation minimal as she stuffed her face with the food.  

But Theodore was no fool. He could see what she was trying to do and he didn’t like it. 

"Are you ashamed of what you do, Abigail?" he asked, deeming it as the only reason she hid behind the wall of pancakes and held her head down. However, his question had her meeting his gaze. 

"No I'm not." But you probably see it as shameful, she wanted to add, but didn’t. 

"But your body language has changed, why?" 

"Is this what you wanted to speak with me about Mr. Adams?" 

'Last name basis now?' Theodore thought as he raised an eyebrow at her. 

"Well, maybe, maybe not." He smirked behind his mug as he took a sip of his coffee. Abigail had a fire in her, and it sparked for a quick second just now. 

So she wasn’t only a shy little graduate student huh? 

"If this had something to do with that night..." She sighed, feeling frustrated. Abigail didn’t like games. And this--whatever Theodore was doing--seemed like a game to her. 

"It has everything to do with that night," Theodore retorted. What better to talk about than the thing that has been bugging him for a whole week? 

If she's comfortable enough to answer his questions, then maybe he could know what really happened. 

"What would you want to know?" 

"Everything," he admitted. "Why would a man drug you?" 

Abi hung her head as she toyed with a blueberry. "It doesn’t take a genius to guess his intentions." 

"I'm sorry. I know what he must've been thinking and if I see him I would ensure he doesn’t see the light of day ever again. But I wanted to know, how did it happen?" 

She sighed, contemplating the odds of telling him. It won't make a difference if he knew or not. His curiosity was obviously perked, and he would only be back if she refused. Not that she wanted to be rid of him. Did she? 

"I don’t always dance on stage. Sometimes I'm requested for private dances. I perform a striptease, obliviously without allowing men to touch me but oddly they like it better that way, thank goodness. But sometimes there are a few who don't get the hint and try to touch me." 

"This man, was he one of them?" 

She nodded. "I don’t normally go private with drunk men, but I have exams coming up and I need the money. So, I promised him five minutes. Only three minutes in when my back was turned, I felt a needle in my neck and the seat where he sat was empty. The room is called a 'private room' for a reason, so I knew  I had to get out of there before..." She didn’t continue that sentence, and Theodore simply nodded in understanding. "I ran to the main room, but things started to get hazy and men were everywhere and I thought that if I fainted in there, who's to stop them from doing the same thing? I ran to my dressing room, but found it locked. In that minute I forgot where the backstage was and dashed for the door." 

Theodore frowned as he listened to the woman relive this horrific moment. One second of fear can make your thoughts so jumbled. He was sure that her first intention was never to run into the city, but from the look in her eyes, he could tell she was scared. Really scared. It was like she was reliving a moment, and it wasn’t only that night. 

"Does this type of thing happen regularly?" 

"No." She shrugged. "But sometimes men see us as toys, you know? We're stripping so 'why do we deserve respect?'" she said, using air quotes as if it was something she'd heard before. 

Theodore frowned deeper, but then what seemed like the most brilliant idea popped into his mind. 

"How much do you make on your best nights?" he asked, and Abigail couldn’t understand why he wanted to know this. 

"Around $500. Then I have to pay commission to the club owner and-" 

"How many nights do you normally work?" 

"Three. Why?" His questions were unnerving her. 

But Theodore knew he didn’t want her going back to that club. He didn’t want to seem perverted, because up until now, he never imagined what it would be like to actually see her dancing. Of course he appreciated her womanly features, as she had the body of a goddess. But this new idea of his was mostly his way of protecting her, and if he's being honest, get to know her better. 

"I will double what you make on your best nights, and I will see you only for those three days that you would normally go to Vanx. No commission, no ill indented men. Just set your terms." He laid it out for her as best as he could, which only caused her to peer at him as if he'd grown another head. 

"You want me to dance for you?" 

"That is what I said, yes. But you must understand that I am no pervert nor do I have ill intentions towards you. You're special, Abigail. I want to make your life better," he said, but she was barely processing. 

"And you want to pay me $3000 a week?" It seemed surreal. Three thousand dollars a week! That was too much, even for her. 

"In cash or I'll have my accountant transfer it to your account. Anything you'd like." 

She shook her head. "This is too much Theodore. And with all due respect, I don’t even know you." 

"I'm a well known business man with a reputation, Abigail. The last thing I need in the media is a charge of rape or assault on my name. As I said, my last intention is to make you uncomfortable or have you as my own personal prey." 

"Sure sounds like it." She gulped. Stripping for Theodore? In his penthouse three nights a week? It seemed highly inappropriate. 

"We are both adults, Abigail. This will be a formal agreement of course. I'll have the contract prepared and everything." 

"So I would be working for you basically?" Not that she was even considering it, but she wanted the benefit of knowing that Theodore didn’t want to sexualize her. The thought made her shiver. 

"Precisely." He nodded but he could still read the uncertainty on her face. "Tell you what, I'll give you my card and my address. When you decide, you can let me know, okay?" 

"Fair enough," she mumbled, still processing it all. 

"You should know that I only proposed this for your well being and not for selfish desires. But if you disagree, I'd still like to be friends." Theodore smiled in what he hoped looked like reassurance to her, and he was happy when she visibly relaxed. 

As if the conversation hadn’t happened, he changed the topic and dug into his meal. 

"So, how has your week been?" And just like that, they fell back into a series of small, comfortable conversations.