Chapter 3
My memories are so clear it could all be happening now.
Voices from the hotel restaurant are in the background. There’s only one other customer at the bar. The guy is hunched over a newspaper as he drinks, wrapped in a black trench coat. He looks in my direction every now and then, but I soon forget about his presence.
“Two gin tonics”, says the man, defining my choice
I approve with the flicker of a smile.
The man smiles back, the curved mouth hardened by his full control of the moment.
I observe the barista as he blends our drinks and I say “Iris Dawson”, without diverting my eyes or losing track of the barista’s moves.
“Iris Dawson is your name?”, the man asks, a frown of sudden surprise dissolving the hard edges in his smile
My gaze shifts towards him at the same time the barista places our drinks on the counter.
“Yes”, I reply
The man sips his drink and says “Rob Neilson”, while looking straight ahead
After a moment he turns towards me, staring me down with a resolute lack of expression. Then he suddenly smiles and shakes his head.
“You are strange”, he tells me
“What would you be doing now if you weren’t with me?”, I ask
“What would I be doing?”, Rob echoes back
I nod
“I’d be ordering dinner in my room and watching some show before organizing the documents for tomorrow”, he tells me
I nod again
“Why did you ask?”, Rob wants to know
“To understand why you are with me”, I say
Rob scrutinizes me, trying to grasp my intentions
“What do you mean?”, he insists, his arched brows marking the sarcastic façade he chooses to show me
“Why are we having drinks instead of dinner when we’re both hungry?”, I reply without thinking
The authenticity of the question shifts my perception of the moment.
I swing left and right on the stool while sipping the gin tonic, eyes smiling as my mouth clings onto the glass.
Rob cocks his head, he doesn’t understand my attitude but he’s amused.
“Where do you want to go for dinner?”, he asks
“We can order dinner from your room and watch some show, before you organize the documents for tomorrow”, I tell him, resting my chin on the palm of my hand, a hopeful smile sprawled on my face
Rob laughs, and his laugher is hearty, liberating.
“God”, he replies, shaking his head
I keep looking at Rob with rounded eyes, my expression unchanged
“Ok Iris, let’s go”, he capitulates, and I swing myself off the stool, smiling playfully, my brows peaking as an exclamation mark at the end of a happy sentence