I don't have a lot of food to speak of, but thankfully I don't think that he knows that. While I try to rummage something together, I can hear something that I haven't in a long time. Anna is in the other room, barking and jumping around from what I can hear.
I think I can hear him talking to her, too. It's strange. Anna has been so despondent since Lou died. I don't blame her, I have been too.
To hear her acting like her old self again, sparks the tiniest bit of hope in me. It puts me in the mood to try harder to fish something better out - if I can. Most of what I have is taken up by old boxes of half-eaten snacks, or cans of vegetables.
After awhile of searching, I am lucky enough to find food that is still good. It isn't much, but I think it'll do. I really do hope he doesn't mind it. Lou loved my pancakes, especially when I mixed in frozen blueberries, and poured strawberry syrup on them. I guess that's why I always had an abundance of frozen fruit and different syrups.
Luckily for me, I still have stuff left over for making pancakes my way. I haven't eaten them since Lou died; I don't know what I was saving the stuff for, but I guess tonight is as good a time to get out my "old cooking gloves" as any. Taking a chair over to the counter, I pull out the flour and a few bowls and set them on the countertop next to me. Next, I crawl down from the chair and head over to the freezer to take out the blueberries, then get what little bit of milk I have left out of the refrigerator and set it with the other ingredients.
First thing, I wash my hands and grab my apron. Just as I am going to get the food started, I suddenly remember something very important. Allergies. The last thing I want to do is accidentally cause some reaction to my guest, because I didn't ask about allergies beforehand. No matter how unexpected he was.
Heading from the kitchen to the living room, I softly clear my throat, in effort to get his attention. When he turns around, I can see he must of been looking at some of the old pictures of me and Lou - an obvious conclusion, being he was holding one of my favorite ones.
"Yes..?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. For a moment, I am again distracted by his eyes. Something about his eyes, I just can't help myself; I have to stare.
"I..um..I came to ask you if you were allergic to anything, Mr. -" When I finally manage to squeeze out of myself what I was trying to say, I end up stumbling over it and sounding even more stupid than I already feel. Seeming to sense my struggle with myself, he gently cuts me off and shakes his head.
"Loki. You can just call me Loki." he flashes me a soft smile, almost immediately calming me down.
"...Loki.." I repeat, feeling heat rise to my cheeks again. "I..came to ask you.. if you were allergic to any fruit..? I'm..going to be using blueberries in o-our.." I clear my throat and nod a bit. "..Our dinner." I pause, then add "Oh. And strawberries - sort of.." I try to smile a bit at him, doing my best to not be so awkward. Having company over and hosting/visiting with them on your own is entirely different than if you have someone else with you that you know to help keep you calm.
Although I am now almost paranoid that he must think really bad of me, he doesn't show any signs of it. Instead, Loki sets the picture back where it was; simply shaking his head.
"I do not believe so."
"Oh, alright..Great," I nod, smiling at him while at the same time nervously chewing at my lower lip. After a few more seconds of standing there like an awkward speckled potato or a chicken whose head has just been cut off, I turn to head back to the kitchen. A couple of steps from the kitchen, I hear him ask for me. A little confused, I look over my shoulder.
"Yes..?" I ask, uncertain what might be wrong - since something being wrong is the very first thing that my mind jumps to.
"Would you like for me to help you?"
I am far too used by now to being the one who does everything. I haven't had help in a long time - even before Lou died, I did a lot of the cooking for awhile because she was busy with other things. True, I got semi-better at cooking, though most of what we had was either pancakes or maybe spaghetti. On occasion, we would get things to just put in the oven or in the microwave. I will willingly admit; I think we ate much better on those nights than on the ones in which I was the main cook.
"Um..You don't have to help..if you don't want to.." I start, turning to face him again. "You are the company here.. and I am the one who fell on you.." my eyes wander to the bruise on his face, and I feel a pang of guilt again. Messing up something so perfect should have been a crime; honestly, I still don't understand how Loki is not mad at me. "I would..really like to make up for it..if I can.." I trail off again, chewing on my lower lip.
"No, it's alright. It will give me something else to do aside from standing about." he answers me, shouldering off his coat and folding it in half. "Please, Meaghan. I insist."
His one statement is how it started. I had no idea what else to say, so I eventually shrugged it off and led him to the kitchen. This is how tonight ended up being a lot more fun than I have had in forever:
Trying to make food together started out kind of awkward and quiet; mostly civilized on his end, and nervous on mine. From then on, it turned out to be much more than that. The food turned out much better than I could have hoped; from what I could tell, despite the mess we made, he had as much fun with it as I did.
Anna was cleaning up the floor, and hiding away any 'freebies' she could find from the mess we'd made. The time got away from me. By the time I finally looked at a clock, I realized how I have come to be where I am now. Half asleep in my room, curled up in a few blankets with Anna warming my feet, and an assumed to be sleeping Loki pulling me closer like I am some kind of teddy bear. A first, the thought makes me giggle, but it is soon replaced by a yawn. I am not sure how I feel about this; sleeping with - well, next to - someone I just met.
I, of course, do not have time to thoroughly examine my feelings; sleep comes in and steals my consciousness away far too swiftly for that. For once, I am not laying awake for hours, or crying myself to sleep.
My sleep is long and restful. How long exactly I have been asleep, I do not know. All I know, is that I wake up to not another person beside me - but Anna now curled up by my side. Wiping my eyes and yawning, I head down the hall to the kitchen in search of something to eat. What I find waiting for me, is something I never expected to see in my lifetime or anyone else's. Sitting on the table waiting for me, is most beautiful deep blue rose that I have ever seen. It is so dark in color, that it is almost black. It looks to be have been freshly cut, and is set in a gorgeous crystal vase. The designs on it, are things I have never seen before; let alone the craftsmanship. I have never seen anything, made with near to the immense care and details that have been put into it.
Next to the rose, sits a box with a ribbon on it and a note by it. Aside from that, I can't help but notice the messes in the kitchen and living room made the night prior are all completely gone. In fact; my rooms are so clean, that no one ever know there had been messes made or left to begin with. I have no idea what to think.
In the box, is apparently my breakfast. The moment I open the box, I am overwhelmed by the delicious smells. My stomach growls loudly at me, telling me it would be a good idea to eat it all, right now. To just regret it later.
Which, I am sure I will regret it later.
Aside from the food, the rose, and cleaned rooms, I find my work uniform in better condition than it has ever been. It is clean, smells nice, and almost looks comfortable for once. Talk about unexpected and weird..
The sight of my work uniform reminds me: I have to work today. I do not have to go in until five, but I find that I am not very excited about it either way.
Being as I have a few hours to kill, I decide to sit on the couch and read my book. It is one of my favorites.. It tells a story of someone who is lost, but who eventually finds her place to belong. Along the way, it is full of adventure, strange creatures, and ancient monsters. In the end, the girl ends up meeting a strange magician and falling in love with him. I don't know exactly all of the ending though, because some jerk tore out the pages. Sometimes, I try to make up the ending for myself. It never ends the same, but I suppose I like it that way. The entire story seems to revolve around a curse or a foretelling of some kind. I know it is nothing but an old fiction book, though there are times I catch new details that I didn't before. Each time, they feel closer and closer to home for me.
I can't describe it, but I feel so..alive every time I read this book. Like a breath of fresh and new life is being breathed into me. All I can say, is that I wish my life were nearly so wonderful as the girl in the book's.
Either way, I could read this book every day of my life and never get tired of it.
Unfortunately, I do not have the time to read it that often. Though it doesn't feel like it has been so long, the time has passed me by quite quickly; I know I will have to go to work in less than an hour.
Said work, being a job I would love to be able to live without - even though that is a laughable thing to think. As my boss so eloquently likes to remind me: "This job is likely to be the only job a girl with my face could have, although sometimes he wishes it was acceptable to make me wear a bag on my head so I wouldn't scare customers anymore." That, as well as telling me I am about as "skilled as not," and "slower than a fly stuck in glue." I really don't like my boss, and would one day like to be able to tell him where he can shove his jack-assery.
Probably the same day I can fix my face.
I've always thought that I am unattractive. I do not need anyone else's help. I have the "help" of every mirror and reflective surface that I come across; I am always reminded of the fact that my face looks like a war zone of spots. The only people that I can remember ever thinking that I was any kind of pretty, would be Lou and my adopted parents. And maybe..one other person.
I still do not understand him. I felt so..unusually happy, in his company. I felt ridiculously shy and nervous, though I assume I will or would in the presence of someone so sheerly amazing-looking; especially when they for some reason make the decision to show interest in me.
Speaking of; this calls to memory the fact that I still have yet to answer his proposal of a date. I am still not sure about it. I don't know how or what to do on a date, let alone having anything to wear. It might be fun, though..
As I contemplate, I end up somehow blinding myself off of a tray. There was no way the lights in the ceiling should have been able to bounce off the tray that way. And, especially not in the spot where I was standing. What's more; I swear I felt my body heat changing right before it happened.
I have no time to analyze the occurrence.
"You stupid, clumsy, idiot!" Is barked from behind me. "Do you have any idea how much money you just cost me by dropping all that on the floor?!" My boss, red in the face now, growls at me. I stare with my mouth slightly agape; I can't say anything. None of my coworkers are even trying to lift a finger to help me, which makes things so much worse.
I can feel all of my emotions accumulating in the deepest pit of my stomach. All of the loneliness that I have felt, all of the grief I have been going through since the deaths first of my mother, then my father; on top of it, I don't even have Lou anymore. Then; I feel anger. Horrible, terrible, searing anger. I have no idea how long this mistreatment has been going on, but I am sick of it.
"SHUT UP!" I snap, turning around to face him. I am shorter than him by... a lot, but it looks like the volume of my voice startles even him.
"I am sick of how you talk to me!" I hear come up and out of my throat, the heat of frustration burning my face so that breathing feels almost impossible. "You talk to me as if I am some kind of dog. Do you really think that the peanuts you pay me are worth me putting up with your spewing of hate every time you speak to me? I know you pay me less than everyone else. But the fact that I have to eat has kept me from saying anything. You know what's really the saddest part of it all though, Sir?" I growl, an uncharacteristic feeling of sarcasm washing over me. "I can barely afford to eat at all, much less afford anything else. I don't know what your problem is, but you know what?" I ask rhetorically, looking off to the side as I pick up some of the food I dropped.
"You take take your stupid job and shove it up your ass, because I quit!"
With the last few words, I launch the food at his face. To add insult to injury, I take the nearest drink and splash it all over his pristine white shirt.
He is so mad that he is shaking; I can see a lot of the employees stifling laughs, and I know I have heard one or two of them cheer for me. I can't describe the feeling of accomplishment I feel right now. It is so empowering. So..relieving. So..cut off by the fact that I can't breathe suddenly.
I guess that I was so caught up in my little moment, that I didn't feel the sudden smack of my body against the wall; as impossible as it might seem, I didn't feel his fingers digging into my throat either until now. I should have taken into account that it is well known he doesn't take embarrassment or employees back talking him very well. Quitting- is almost all but unheard of. I think there was a girl a few years before me coming to work here; she decided to quit, and went missing not long after.
My boss, though a terribly well-groomed man, has a horrible temper. I don't know if it is true or not, but I have heard he may somehow be tied into the mob. Whether he is just descendant from some old mob members, or part of a modern-day version of it, I am not really all that sure that I want to know.
In desperation for air, I scratch at his arm. He is just scowling at me, his cold eyes trained on me as if he is trying to figure out what to do with me. As soon as his decision is made, his expression relaxes and he releases my throat; air rushes in in a way that stings and almost makes my throat feel as if it is on fire, I can feel my eyes watering as well. As if a switch has gone off in his head and another person has come out, he smiles at me-I am not sure if it scares me, or simply is unnerving. Leaning down and helping me up, I hear words that make no sense.
"You're right, Meaghan. I really have been horrible to you." He shakes his head, an expression on his face that reads of apologetic sincerity. Everything in his face reads that he actually means what he is saying, though something in his blue eyes reminds me of how a snake would look when lulling in its next meal.
"I'd like to make it up to you.. why don't you come to dinner with me? My treat.."
He is speaking loud enough that there is no way the others won't hear him. This seems a bit off to me, as if he is trying to make himself look better out of nowhere. Thinking I am just being too suspicious of his uncharacteristic behavior, I shrug.
"You're not mad at me?" I ask, raising an eyebrow in skepticism. The room has gone silent, and I can see that no one else seems to be believing what is going on either, each time I look over his shoulder. As if to off-set everyone's suspicions, he turns around and grins at everyone, announcing that to make up for everything with everyone else, they were going to be getting an extra week of personal time, as well as a raise.
Looking back to me during the commotion of celebrating employees, a soft smirk crosses his face.
"Of course not...Meaghan.." his voice is so smooth right now, drawing me in in a way I never thought possible. Though I find it strange, the fact that he is for once acknowledging me by my name instead of something like "freckle face," it does make me feel a bit better about it. "Come with me?" he asks, raising a brow.
I look away in uncertainty, still not sure I want to. He is up to something, and I know it.
"I don't know, Mr. Diavonni-" I start, only to be cut off by him.
"Johnny."
I tilt my head, slowly repeating his name. It is foreign to me; I did not know his first name, let alone think I would ever be using it. "...I don't know..I think I should probably go home.." I answer, shaking my head.
"Oh, please. Do you never have any fun?" he asks me, nonchalantly putting his arm around my waist. I am about to say 'Not on my salary,' though I don't get a chance to. This whole incident is putting me on edge. I should be passed out on the floor or something by now, not being asked out to dinner.
"Come, you won't have to pay a thing..it's all on me.." he says, his smirk turning to a smile as his eyes glue onto mine again. I can feel a different kind of heat rising to my face now, I'm not sure I like it. I don't like this man, I don't trust him. Why am I even thinking about going out with him tonight..?
"I don't know..I mean..why aren't you mad at me anymore..?" I ask, narrowing my eyes and tilting my head. "Shouldn't I be dead or something right now?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
He pauses, then shakes his head.
"Oh shush, you silly girl...I'm not angry. And to show you there's no hard feelings, I'm going to take you out. - The same way I do all the employees who decide to leave my restaurant."
