Chapter 27

Clara's POV

I responded amid his tale, "If I had been your grandmother, I would have slapped you for that."

"Do you realise that you are short? You would have to grow first before you can slap me," he joked, asking in a way that almost seemed challenging.

I questioned, "Is that how it's going to be?" I taunted, "Okay, Mr. Giganto."

He gave a playful, "Yes, shortcake" response.

Not that moniker.

I said, waving my fork at him, "You call me shortcake again, and I'll show you just how sweet this cake can be."

My warnings were ineffective; instead, he burst out laughing.

"Did you even reach puberty? I bet you are still the same height as you were fifteen years ago," he said.

I said quietly, "I grew about two centimetres taller."

He laughed and laughed till he almost choked on his supper.

"It might not sound like a lot to you, but it was the last push I needed to reach the cupboard finally," I said.

We spoke about anything and anything simultaneously, including the most bizarre topics I never thought he would discuss.

I said, "Hot dogs have got to be the best food in the world," with pride.

Derek shook his head, saying, "No, now I'm convinced you have no taste."

"One of these days, I'm going to prove it to you," I concluded.

As soon as the servers emptied the remainder of our dishes, our dessert arrived.

I never thought Derek would have this side to him as well.

For dessert, I had some ice cream with a caramel topping. It was almost all I had left after everything else I had eaten.

My cell rang. I noticed it was a text from my sister when I glanced at the screen.

I panicked when I saw the time on my phone. It was about nine at night. My mother was aware that I didn't work nights. This meant that if she weren't already freaking out and phoning everyone we knew to find out where I was, there would be a lot of questions when I got home. However, I hadn't gotten a single text from her.

I interrupted Derek in the middle of his anecdote to say, "We should go."

I pushed my chair back and prepared to walk out of the eatery.

"Is everything okay?" a startled Derek enquired.

"It's late; I have to get home now," I said.

My sister texted me, asking where I was. Mom told me that because she works late, I've been alone at home.

My mother wasn't going to murder me yet, at least.

"Are you sure? Perhaps you want another drink or something before we leave?" He said.

I said, "I have to leave now."

He didn't make any more effort. He gave me a dejected expression and pushed back from his chair.

As we made our way back to the elevator, he questioned, "What are you rushing home to?"

"Let's just put it this way: I'm in my mid-twenties with a job, but I still have a curfew," I said.

We proceeded inside the lift. I touched the ground floor button.

He joked, "So, you are like Cinderella now?"

"Well, Cinderella had until midnight," was my response.

He laughed.

I wasn't making this up.

At this point, we were outside the eatery as we waited for Derek's car to be returned by the valet.

I nervously crossed my arms over each other and waited.

I heard voices at that point.

Two women were approaching us while conversing.

"You did an amazing job today; the chefs and the guests loved your cakes. I'm sure they will ask you to deliver more soon." A lady said.

"Cecilia, thank you so much," said the other woman.

Those were voices I knew.

I gently pivoted to face where the noises were coming from. It verified that I had been suspended.

Mom was talking to Cecilia. She would soon see Derek and me together as we got closer.

My mother could not see me in this place. I had not pictured her and Derek meeting, just not how I had seen them coming together.

I looked about, thinking maybe there was a hole I could crawl into and hide.

I was confined. There was nothing else I could think of to escape this situation without bringing me too much attention, and my mother was just a few steps away. It appeared that the automobile would not be here very soon.

I turned to face Derek, who only grinned back at me.

That struck me as an invitation.

I suddenly collapsed into Derek's arms and buried my face in his chest.

Mom was talking loudly now, and Cecilia was following her.

Derek did not shove me aside. I could tell he was surprised by my actions because he stood there without responding.

He soon encircled me and gently stroked my back with his hands.

I tightened my grasp on his jacket in the hopes that it would turn me invisible so Cecilia or my mother wouldn't notice me.

I breathed in his aroma, getting increasingly addicted to each whiff. It had a warm feeling. I thought I belonged here, and only here, at this very time. I briefly lost awareness that I was keeping my mother at a distance.

At last, he said, "Are you okay?"

I said, "I'm just cold." I dared not to budge an inch. I continued to wrap Tristan in my arms, clinging to him for dear life.

I sensed Derek's gradual retraction.

He suddenly left me vulnerable.

How was he going about it? He served as a human shield for me.

I searched the area for my mom. She was now moving at a distance, going away. There was no way I could let her see Tristan or myself. I had to make sure she was out of my hair first.

Derek removed his jacket and slung it around my shoulders.

I smiled and pulled the jacket closer to me. It had the same scent.

With a murmur, "Thank you,"

I looked back at my mother, making sure she was out of sight altogether.

Derek turned to try and follow my sight, so he must have seen that I was gazing at him.

I wished for him never to see my mother. I wanted to get my mother out of this predicament immediately. Let's hope they never cross paths.

My hand instinctively grabbed for his cheek, turning his head away. The only issue was that he was suddenly focusing only on me. His gaze was fixed on mine. Our touch sent a shockwave through my arm.

A chilly shudder ran down my spine. I was unable to attribute it to the wind this time.

Our gaze met, and for an instant, I lost consciousness of my breathing.

My rational part advised me to back off and that I should flee and get a cab home since these emotions would only make me lose my mind, but I disregarded it. We met eyes, and I stood there, knees weak, dreaming what it would be like to kiss him. I knew full well how close we were. I hope my heartbeat was too rapid for him to sense.

A crowd yelled, "Mr. Montenegro," and I heard them.

Derek and I both looked in the direction of the sounds.

Suddenly, many photographers appeared, all pointing their cameras directly at us.

I put my hand over my face. I had to keep them from seeing me.

Derek must have gotten the idea, too, for he led me to the now-arrived automobile while fielding me with his arms.

To facilitate our access to the automobile, the restaurant's security personnel cleared a route and kept the photographers at bay.

As I got inside the car, I let out a relieved breath. Fortunately, the car's windows were black. The photographers kept taking pictures.