Saturday, February 12, 2000; 7:27pm – The Royal Hawaiian; Honolulu, Hawaii
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe she should've listened to Bruce, and they should've just stayed on the beach.
She definitely wouldn't have spent the last two hours with some specialist Alfred had hired, primping her and squeezing her into a too-revealing, too-expensive dress.
But this was her idea, and Bruce would never let her live it down if she backed out now.
But then, she probably wasn't going to see Bruce again after tonight. He was itching to get on a plane, to get away from her. It didn't matter how often he smiled around her or that stunned look she spotted on his face when he saw her after her two hours of torture. He wanted to leave.
And she didn't blame him. She wasn't that exciting, and he was used to girls far prettier and far richer than her. Girls that traveled the world and wore these kinds of dresses nightly. Girls that knew how to properly swoon a man that they liked.
She didn't mean to torture him by keeping him here, or even by making him go to this event. By them going together, maybe he could satisfy Alfred by at least showing up, and he wouldn't have to endure the rich and snobby alone. Maybe they could even sneak off early, go find some fast food restaurant that was open late, find another way to pass the night.
It was all of those thoughts that kept her silent in her seat as they pulled up to the curb of some fancy resort. It kind of reminded her of the movies, with the red carpet and the photographers. Only there were less than a handful of people on the curb, photographers included, and there were no crowds of people desperate to get a look at the rich and famous.
Despite the small amount of cameras present, there were still a lot of flashing blubs as Bruce exited the car first, turning to help Ana out afterwards. He naturally intertwined his arm with hers, accustomed to escorting women, as they crossed the small space of the sidewalk and headed for the propped open front doors of the resort. As Ana ducked her head from the flashing cameras, almost melting into Bruce's side, he walked as if they were alone, the cameras not even fazing him.
Well, he was Bruce Wayne after all. The paparazzi did come with the territory.
She was still overly conscious of just how low her dress was cut on her back and just how much cleavage was showing in the halter top dress, perhaps even more so once they entered the large meeting room full of people than outside with the cameras. Here, soft orchestral music was playing above the quiet chatter, and gorgeous people in gorgeous dresses and suits filled the room. Well, not everyone was gorgeous, Ana noticed at a closer, less awed glance. But they all fit the bill for being filthy rich.
"I told you so," Bruce muttered to her, not even having to bow his head to do so. With the heels that she was quickly learning to walk in, he only had an inch or two on her compared to the regular three or four he normally had.
She quirked a brow, trying to keep up her ever confident façade. "Told me what?"
"That you wouldn't like it."
She scoffed, but didn't do any more to refute him. It wasn't that she didn't like it, but it wasn't exactly exciting. And she felt awkward and out of place. It was how she expected to feel if she had ever gone to her high school prom, and there was a reason why she avoided that very special dance.
"We can still leave, if you want," he tried, turning his attention fully towards her.
But she shook her head, adamant. "Let's make Alfred happy for once." He looked at her as if she had just given him the answer to the question of life. "Now aren't we supposed to intermingle or something?"
Still reeling from her last statement, he couldn't even manage a smile. "As Bruce Wayne, I should probably be trying to sucker more money out of people."
"Probably?" she questioned jokingly, but his mood was still soured. "Well, how about if you double the amount of money raised? More people will donate because of that. Proven statistic, I'm sure."
He shrugged, the action looking uncharacteristic with him in a fancy tuxedo and his long bangs slicked back. "This isn't that big of a deal. It wasn't even a big tsunami. Earle just wants a mid-year vacation away from the snow."
"Bruce!" she gasped, all playfulness gone. Sure, she wasn't a people person, and even if she had billions, philanthropy still wouldn't be her thing. But still, no one should be talking that way, let alone Bruce, no matter his mood. "You don't mean that."
"And what if I do?" he questioned seriously, his dark eyes defiant.
She glared back, but they were both interrupted by someone clearing their throat from behind them. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything," an unfamiliar, taller elder man said, his keen blue eyes darting between the two before resting solidly on Bruce. A smaller woman was at his side, wearing too much makeup and practically drenched in perfume—but Ana did admire her outfit and taste for jewelry.
"Mr. Earle," Bruce replied with, attempting to be lighthearted but the undertone of his mood was all too clear. "Not at all."
"Fancy seeing you all the way out here, Bruce," Earle continued, eyeing the heir of Wayne Enterprises warily.
Now that she knew who he was, Ana's overactive mind went to work at deciphering him. She knew he was the current CEO of Wayne Enterprises. Alfred had mentioned his name before Bruce got around to grunting it. His surprise at Bruce being here was stemmed from his desire to remain the CEO of one of the biggest companies in the world. Bruce never attended anything if he could help it. His attendance now could possibly be because he's finally showing interest in his company.
At least, that's what her mind came up with.
And then Bruce either killed the idea entirely, or gave it more fuel, with his next remark—depending on how sharp Earle was.
"Just taking an early vacation," the young billionaire smiled, a fake and mischievous smile at that. "Mr. Earle, this is Ana Williams," Bruce suddenly introduced when Earle's eyes wandered to her.
Taking on the polite role, no matter her previous thoughts of the man, she shook his hand with a bright smile as he eyed her calculatingly. "William Earle," he introduced himself with, before suddenly and abruptly continuing on. "And what is it you do, Ana?"
Floored by his short question, she stuttered out an answer, "Well, I'm still in college. But I work part time as a, uh, paramedic—Sir."
Genuine surprise flittered across the elder man's features, and she spotted Bruce's real smile faint on his lips. "Quite the catch you've got here, Bruce." Bruce nodded once, curtly, in acknowledgement. "Well, I'd best be moving on. People need someone to convince them to give up their hard earned money," Earle joked, clasping Bruce on the shoulder. "You two have fun tonight."
And with that, the CEO mongrel was gone, his wife trailing behind him.
"That was…odd," Ana dared to say, glancing to Bruce.
"That's his way of establishing his dominance. And making sure I won't be sticking around to impede on his throne." She couldn't help but smile at her own genius—she'd pegged the power hungry CEO for exactly what he was. "But you threw him off," he continued, glancing back to her.
"I did?"
"You're smart. Earle's afraid of those who are smarter than him." Did she spot a little pride in that small smile of his?
"Then he should be very afraid of you. You're intelligent and are very capable of scooping the company right out from his greedy fingertips."
He chuckled, finally. Good to know that a close encounter with someone he truly hated left him in a good mood. Or maybe—hopefully—it was just the fact that he got to startle Earle for once. "Oh, he knows this all too well, don't you worry." He paused, glancing around the room again, his smile slowly dissipating. "Are you sure you still want to stick around?"
She, too, glanced around the room, her height allowing her to see over most. "The music's nice," she commented, much to Bruce's disbelief. "Mozart."
"You want to stay because of the music?"
She grinned, finding pleasure in his confusion. "We came, we saw, we conquered, we can get the hell out of here." Two hours of prepping be damned, these heels were already killing her. At least the night was a lesson that she was never going to do this again.
Relieved by her answer, he held out his arm for her, which she gladly took, and they headed across the back of the room, never even making into the actual crowd of the gala. Exiting through the one of the many French doors that lined the ballroom, the cool February air greeted them off the ocean, the sounds of waves overpowering the classical music from inside. A few stray couples lingered along the patio, under the overhanging shade structures, but as they approached the private beach, the sand looked to be empty. Ana glanced around. From here, they could disappear to anywhere. They didn't even need Alfred to drive them, though she was sure he wouldn't mind, even if they didn't stay the entire night at that charity ball. She had gotten Bruce to go, and that was worth something, right?
Releasing his arm once they reached the end of the patio, where cement turned to sand, she bent to relieve her feet from their torture, falling a couple of inches to stand flat footed once more. One more step and she was able to curl her toes in the sand, the cold grains relaxing her stressed feet. Content, she smiled.
But she snapped out of it when Bruce chuckled. "What?" she snapped. "You try wearing these," she offered, holding the heels in front of him.
"They look much better on you," he chuckled.
She snorted. But, abandoning the topic entirely, she set the heels down in the sand by the slender black pole of the thin fence that separated the patio from the beach. It was as out of the way that she could get them if anyone else were to follow their lead and venture out onto the moonlit beach. Then she scooped up the ends of her dress and bunched it in one hand to be able to walk freely through the sand and, with her intentions, eventually the water without ruining her dress.
She had the opportunity to see Honolulu in all its glory with a billionaire paying for the trip, and all she wanted to do was sit on the beach all day. She almost laughed aloud at the thought. But then said billionaire was still beside her, watching her curiously. Sudden laughter might make him even warier of her.
Without even glancing to Bruce, she suddenly started walking, digging her feet deep into the cold sand with each step. A couple of paces out, she spun around, feeling light on her feet. Sandy beaches were hard to come by in Hilo, so this was the best part of this entire trip. During each spin, she managed to catch a glimpse of Bruce, who was following her, clearly amused. Right when she reached the shoreline she stopped, facing the boy billionaire.
"Come appreciate this before we disappear into Honolulu to evade Alfred for the night. You only get to spend a moment on a nighttime, sandy beach with a full moon so often." Once he bent over to remove his own shoes, she turned back around to face the ocean with a smile, wading further in until the waves reached her shins. "It takes a lot to be pretty to me," she muttered to herself, gazing at the dark water. "But you do it quite well." It was a truth, one that she had to state aloud to try and make sense of. She didn't find flowers pretty, or colors, or even babies. Most things didn't impress her. But water… Water was a different story. Whether it be frozen or boiling, it was the one thing in life that she appreciated for its beauty.
Water was what kept her happy.
She nearly jumped when she noticed Bruce standing just behind her. Trying to cover up her scare, she turned to him, "Isn't it pretty? Picture perfect."
He nodded, his dark eyes moving from her to the ocean around them.
Content with getting him to appreciate something for once, she allowed him to view the horizon, stepping out of his way to wander further down the beach. But she only made it two steps before his soft, pampered hand caught hers. Confused, Ana glanced back him, opening her mouth to question what was wrong. But he didn't give her the chance to say anything. Instead he suddenly pulled her into his arms, his lips connecting with hers as if it was routine.
Surprised, Ana froze, causing Bruce to immediately stop. He pulled back, glancing at her regretfully. "I'm sorry," he muttered, his breath warm on her skin.
"No," she managed, realizing that she was actually holding on to him, realizing that this was okay, that she wanted this. This time she leaned forward, kissing his cool lips. He seemed to relax in that instant, worry falling away like the waves receding at their feet. Forgetting about her dress, she let it fall into the water in favor of her arms wrapping around his neck, her fingers instinctively running up the back of his neck into his hair as if she'd done this before. His lips grew hungrier at this, covering hers as his tongue begged for her lips to part. She obliged him as one of his hands scraped the back of her neck, the other wrapping around her lower back, his skin touching hers at that bottom of that low cut.
He tasted like fruit—berries. And he kissed like—well, she had nothing to compare him to, but however he was kissing, her own body clearly approved with the way her lips instinctively moved back against his, the way her body molded against him like it belonged there, and the slow, fiery burn that was growing in the pit of her stomach.
When he finally pulled away again, they were both breathing heavy, and neither of them wanted to stop. He gave her another, quick kiss, his hand brushing her cheek in admiration. "We shouldn't…" he breathed, showing his own self control.
Her eyes locked with his, pleadingly. Her body didn't want to stop, not yet. And she wasn't coherent enough anymore to think otherwise. She'd never felt this way about anyone before.
Why the hell did he have to be Bruce fucking Wayne?
He kissed her again, shortly. As if trying to snap her out of trance. "Ana, we should go back."
Reluctantly, she nodded, some part of her subconscious agreeing with him.
Satisfied with that answer, he planted yet another kiss on her full lips before wrapping his arm around her shoulders, allowing her to melt into his side. They both walked in stride back towards the resort and all its bright lights and many guests.
A/N: 2:34 am.
Alyssa, what has finally motivated you to finish these final chapters?
-Well, truthfully, I have a paper due tonight, which I have not started.
Shouldn't that be your first priority?
-Of course. But if I had done that instead, these chapters would still be left unwritten, and I wouldn't be able to finish them until my next paper is due.
So, when are you going to do your paper?
-When my Muse decides to fly away again. He only likes sticking around for the fiction stuff, and he has been working hard all day today. A couple of stories and a couple of chapters here. But he does have to catch those cheap, red eye flights, ya know?
What if your paper's overdue by then?
-Oh, don't worry. I don't let it get that late. I'll just scrape something together in the last hour like I do every time. It's just my university required writing course, no biggie.
Back to this story, what are your thoughts on this chapter and where the story's going?
-Don't'cha hate endings like that? I know, no good stuff. But believe me, you really don't want me writing that kind of stuff anyway. I'm no good at it. But be glad that I completely rewrote this chapter. The first draft was terrible, and long, and terribly long. Icky descriptions, and way too drawn out, boring dialogs. This is more short and to the point, much like our Bruce and Ana. They hate beating around the bush and all that small talk nonsense—it's a waste of time. But I'm glad that I finally was able to write this chapter. From here, it's pretty much downhill—until the end of part two, but I'll leave that for later. And as for the characters themselves…well, if you hated this chapter, go ahead and let me know. I still have two more parts to write and knowing what pisses people off might help me avoid those subjects. I want to please you all.
When can we expect the next few chapters?
-Very soon. I might post them all at once, RIGHTNOW. Or I might write a little more here in two weeks when my next paper's due. It's all up to my Muse. You'll have to ask him. And it's up to the internet, if I ever get it back.
Sorry for the wait, y'all. But I hope you enjoy it. :)