Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Academy or anything surrounding it (but I do own this plot :D)
RPOV
"Team, assemble!" I stopped looking at the door and began to slump over to where Lissa had arranged a meeting table out of two four person tables pushed together.
"Ashford assembled!" Mason rushed to her side and stood up straight, mocking her military form of address causing Christian to snigger.
"Mason this is serious; stop prating around and find Eddie." Lissa said whilst glaring at an amused Christian. Mia sighed in her seat as Sydney delicately placed herself in hers just in case it was secretly a time bomb that could go off at the most sudden of movements. Mason saluted and skipped off to find his partner in crime. I rolled my eyes and settled next to Lissa and an empty seat left for Adrian.
"Thou est graced with thee's presence." Speak of the devil.
"I'm not sure that is technically accurate." I said as Adrian swayed his way next to me, dropping down opposite Sydney.
"Who cares; Shakespeare isn't around to correct me." He shrugged and poured himself a glass of whiskey.
"Yes but Sydney is." I pointed out and both parties blushed. Just friends my arse.
I should probably explain what is going on. For the past three weeks, Lissa has worked non-stop, juggling work, wedding administration and these gatherings. She called them 'Inspiration Meetings' in which we all sat round a table, at silly o'clock in the morning, to discuss possible ideas for fundraising. It wasn't going well.
The only decent idea that had come out of these meetings was a collection pot where charitable customers donated money to the cause. Unfortunately, customers were not very charitable. Other than the odd dollar, no-one was giving up their money any time soon. So, the 'Collection Pot' had become the 'Tip Pot' in which we put all our tips in from the day. So far the scheme had not been very effective. After tossing in the $20 Dimitri had given me, we were up to $28.75 which was a long way off $4 million and a fifth.
Dimitri.
Christian nearly had a heart attack when he saw me adding the $20 to the pot and demanded me tell him who I got it from.
"Oh…just-just a, a guy… no-one, really…" That was what left my mouth. Not my best moment.
Christian raised an eyebrow. "Mhmm." He nodded slowly. "Tell me, was this guy, our dear Eastern European friend whom you are not liking?" I downright scowled which made him smile victoriously and walk away grinning.
"Hey! I said nothing Fireboy!"
"I'm not saying you did." He mused.
Since that conversation I really began to worry. I had had a way too extreme reaction to when he took my hand in his own. I could not shake the feeling from my body and it was clear to me that he most certainly did not feel the same way.
And yet, I longed to see him. Our interactions had become light and easy which only added to the cocktail of emotions that ran alongside my hormones when I saw him. I figured if I ignored it long enough, they would slide and I, well, might have gained a really good friend.
God. This is coming from the girl who all but blew up in his face on their first encounter and dreaded the next one. What is wrong with me?
"Right. Brainstorm." Lissa snapped me back to the present. "And if you say a sponsored drink-a-thon, I will murder you Adrian Ivashkov." Yeah, Adrian's last contribution hadn't gone down too well.
"Your loss." He shrugged pouring another glass.
"Okay, but I do think doing something sponsored will get us somewhere but it would have to be something massive." Lissa stated opening her notebook.
"Rose, could do a sponsored silence?"
"Hey!" Adrian protested as I threw his drink at Christian's head.
"You can go get another one." I told him as he scowled. "And get me one too!" I called after him as he wandered to the bar.
"Rose." Lissa chastised whilst Christian rubbed his head. "Be serious."
"I am! Tell your fancy fiancée that; he started it." I whined like I was six.
"Did not."
"Did too!"
"Guys!" Lissa yelled and I stuck my tongue out at Christian.
"What about a parachute jump?" Mia suggested, getting back on topic, as Adrian came to sit down with the drinks.
"What about it?" I said bringing the glass to my lips.
"Someone could do it." She shrugged.
"Are you volunteering?" Christian asked and Mia looked horrified.
"No, of course not!" she deflected quickly, "Just suggesting." She raised her hands in surrender.
"I don't think it is the worst idea in the world." Sydney spoke up for the first time, perking the interest of Adrian. "I mean obviously, I couldn't do it; you would have to be unbelievably brave to even consider-"
"I'll do it." I spluttered my drink – all over Mia sitting opposite – as soon as the words left Adrian's mouth. Lissa looked in shock at Adrian whilst Christian frowned and Sydney looked in awe. "What?"
"You'll do a parachute jump?" Lissa said slowly as I continued to choke on my scotch.
"Yeah, why not? How hard can it be, right?" He let loose his devil-may-care smile before looking at me. "You okay Little Disaster?"
"Fine." I said still coughing.
"Right well, I'll get the sponsor sheets and posters and you can register online." She said and Adrian smirked. "Well, anyone else got any ideas?" She said, stealing a few mystified glances at Adrian.
After that, there weren't many good suggestions. Lissa said she would take the charity fund idea to her work and ask around to see if any of her colleagues would help. She also ordered me to ask my mother to pull some strings which promptly derailed the topic and provoked an hour long argument.
Annoyingly, she won.
She also left shortly after that when the pub opened at nine. Stan dragged his weary bones in the building and tossed $50 onto the table, telling us he had sold his TV. He didn't wait around to be thanked and soon disappeared to his den of an office but I had a new amount of respect for him: he was capable of doing the right thing.
I was on bar shift so I spent most of the day cleaning glasses with a dishtowel while looking pensively at the door. I was like a devoted puppy waiting for her master, only the master I was waiting for did not show.
Every time the bell rang, announcing the presence of another customer, I sprang up only to be disappointed. I did not see his God-like looks and heart-melting eyes; I did not hear his accented voice and harmonic laugh. And then I remembered why.
Honestly, I was pathetic. I knew full well that he had his pitch today: the one that would determine his fate. I really did not know how to react when he came back either with work or unemployed. I didn't even know if he was going to come back at all.
That contemplation made me shudder and I needed to find a distraction, quick. Thankfully, distraction came in the shape of a drunken twenty-one year-old with an aroma of clove cigarettes.
"Hey Little Disaster, what trouble you up to?" he said slumping into the bar stool, wishfully glancing at Sydney.
Of course.
I really couldn't take it any more. "For God's sake! Grow a pair and ask her out!" I said throwing my arms in the air. "And if I hear 'just friends' come out of that mouth of yours I will castrate you." I threatened and Adrian's mouth slowly closed before he sighed.
"Look Rose, I appreciate the gesture but-"
"You have just volunteered to do a parachute jump to impress her." I cut him off. "The most a guy has ever done to win my attention was to ask me out drunken, over a karaoke machine."
"She doesn't even like me like that." He said as I glared at him.
"Adrian Ivashkov, when have you ever let that stop you flirting with anyone?"
"Exactly! That is the problem right there: me. I'm a womanizer; I drink to the point of unconsciousness and I smoke like a chimney. I see how she flinches every time I reach for a cigarette or a drink; I disgust her. I'm not worthy of her." His voice became barely a whisper as he hesitated over his bourbon. I was speechless. In all my years of knowing Adrian, he was always so sure of himself; seeing him so insecure made me rethink everything I already knew.
"Adrian-"
"I'm going to go home and…paint." He said getting up and leaving swiftly. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Sydney looking worriedly at the door. How could Adrian not see how smitten she was of him? How much she cared? My mind lapsed and I realised just how similar this situation was to the situation of my mother and I; I had convinced myself that she was one person without giving her the chance to prove she was another. Perhaps I had been too harsh on her. Perhaps I needed to grow a pair and fight my own insecurities.
Having determined a decision, I reached for my phone and dialed the number.
"Janine Hathaway, speaking." She said formally after three prompt rings.
"Hey mom, it's Rose. I was wondering if we could talk."