A Sulawesi Romance

Chapter 7

A/N: The image above does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who uploaded it on the internet.

Berkah's POV

Gun and I got startled by the loud banging of the door against the wall.

What in bloody hell! Our employer's son Mark stood in the doorway with a big scowl on his face! What was his problem???

"Can I talk to you for a minute, Gun?" Mark asked Gun, whose hands were now shaking in anxiety.

I squeezed Gun's hand and whispered to him, "Don't worry, if he does anything to hurt you, I will be here to help you."

I noticed that Mark's eyes were on my hand that was squeezing Gun's hand.

Gun slowly got up from the table and approached Mark.

I heard Gun say "My lunch break is not over yet, actually."

"Don't worry," I heard Mark reply. "I will give additional time to your lunch break. And don't worry I won't make you go hungry. There will be better tasting food where I am taking you."

I started to get worried. Where the hell was Mark planning to take Gun?

I suddenly lost my appetite for the food that was in front of me. I grabbed the glass of ice cold kiwi strawberry juice and drank it to the last drop instead.

Then I stood up and walked to the courtyard and sat on one of the cement benches overlooking the ocean.

I only had one more week to finish in this place of employment and then I was going back home to help my parents who had opened their own small grocery business.

I made up my mind that even though I would no longer be an employee in this place, that I was going to keep in touch with Gun. I could sense that Gun needed someone to protect him. He looked so vulnerable. I could sense that there was something troubling Gun and that he needed someone to confide in about it. I still had a whole week to earn his trust enough for him to confide in me.

Third Person POV

Gun hesitated in the doorway of Mark's private suite.

"Do you need to talk to me inside your room?" Gun asked anxiously. "Can we not just talk out here in the hallway?"

"Sweetheart," Mark said, taking Gun by the hand, "there is no table out here in the hallway where we can eat our lunch. Come, let's go inside. The chef will be here soon to bring us lunch for two."

Gun hesitated once more. He pulled his hand away from Mark's.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked Mark.

"I will answer your question once we are comfortably seated inside my suite," Mark replied, taking hold of Gun's hand once more.

Gun reluctantly allowed Mark to lead him inside his private suite.

No sooner had Mark pulled a chair for Gun to sit at the table when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Mark called out.

It was the chef. He came in pushing a trolley that had two covered dishes and several plates and utensils and wine glasses. He also had an ice bucket with a bottle of wine chilling inside it.

"Thank you," Mark said to the chef with a smile after the chef arranged everything on the table.

The chef bowed to Mark, his eyes studying Mark's visitor intently. Wasn't that the newly hired assistant for Berkah who would eventually take over Berkah's duties once Berkah had resigned.

The chef wanted to ask Mark but kept quiet and walked out the door, closing it gently after him.

"I hope you will enjoy the feast that I have laid out before you," Mark said with a smile, while covering Gun's hand with his.

Gun quickly pulled his hand away.

Mark's face took on an offended look.

"What's the matter, Berkah's attention is more pleasurable to you than mine is?" Mark asked, not bothering to hide the anger in his voice.

"I'm ... I'm ... Berkah... he doesn't scare me," Gun tried to explain.

"Oh, and I scare you???" Mark asked, holding back his temper.

"I think... it's because you are the employer's son and I'm afraid that you will use that power over me," Gun said, almost in a whisper, almost in tears.

Mark kept quiet for a moment, looking down intently on his folded fingers, thinking carefully how to answer Gun's accusation.

Then slowly he looked up and looked Gun squarely in the eye.

"I swear to you that I am not planning to harm you in any way," Mark began his little speech. "But if you feel that you cannot trust me... if you feel more comfortable in Berkah's presence, then... then I guess... I guess there's no point in me trying to be friends with you."

Gun stood up and started walking slowly towards the door.

"I'm so sorry, Mark," he said, before walking out the door in search of Berkah.

He found Berkah in the courtyard and started running towards him but then turned away and started to cough.

Berkah was smoking a cigarette and the cigarette smoke had irritated Gun's throat, making him cough continuously.