Not For Love

2. Blind Blind-Date

"I'll be done in a few hours, why?" I ask my mother who's already making plans for my wedding, knowing all well I have no intention to marry him. Or anyone for that matter.

   "Visit us after meeting Asher."

   I shift uncomfortably, and am barely able to control a sigh. "Why?"

"We're having dinner with Ivette and her husband. Asher's parents."

    "So I have to meet the son and the parents at two different places? Just call Asher to the dinner. I'll meet him there."

     "No. You will meet Asher alone to get know him."

I place a palm over my forehead, pressing it into my eye socket, barely containing a sign. "Do I have to come the dinner then?" I am enervated, my whole body hurts. I do not want to entertain people. Not right now.

  "Yes."

"I'm really tired. I can't do the meeting and this dinner both."

  "So you can not even get yourself two places then sit and talk?"

    "I was in the operating room for most of the night and morning. Just... not today."

    "How will you be a good surgeon if you can't even handle this much workload, Eda? Stand up straight. Go home. Get some rest. Meet Asher. Come down here straight away. Seven o'clock. Then you're off."

     I stay quiet.

     "Eda?"

     "Yes, mother."

     "Be on time. Wear something appropriate." She hangs up.

     I stare at the screen for a minute or two. Then at the clock. I should be able to get two hours of sleep if I can get Asher Cheruano off my back by five. I collect my things from my locker and go straight for the date.

•

I jolt awake when I feel a light tap on my shoulder.

There is a person in front of me. "I didn't mean to startle you," he says, his voice strict, deep but strangely calming.

     I only realise who I am, why I am here and who is the man in front of me after a minute of blinking. My gaze whirls to my watch. An hour. He is an hour late. I waited for him a few minutes then slipped into sleep at the furthest corner of the coffee shop my mother selected for us to meet in.

     The guy in a rare-on-blinddates full suit, smiles down at me. With his tie nestled on his chest and his shoulders structured into the suit, his brown hair settled back, a single strand momentarily falling on his left ear, anyone can tell he just came out of his office. He opens the mid button of his coat and either side of it falls back as he drops down in the seat in front of me. "We meet again," he greets, smilingly.

I blink again, still half asleep.

His eyes drop down to my mouth for a second before he grabs a tissue from the table in between us and hands it to me. When I frown questioningly, he points to my mouth and I flush at the realization. I snatch the tissue and grumpily clean off my drool with it.

   When I'm done with it I turn my gaze back to him. "You're Asher Cherauno?"

   He raises an eyebrow as if I'm in decadence of some sort but nods.

"You're an hour late."

   "I am." Curt, uncaring reply.

    He's an asshole. A proud one. I assess him for a moment. He's good looking in every definition. Sharp, straight nose, deep brown eyes, full lips, thick eyelashes and angular jaw. Every feature chiselled to perfection. There's a scar at the base of his chin that I only notice because he has his chin high up like a proud peacock.

    "Is something wrong, Miss Clemonte?"

   "Don't you usually make an excuse as to why you're late and apologise?" I ask, settling back into the seat and crossing my arms.

    "Got stuck in traffic."

    My gaze narrows.

    "I apologise for letting you sleep for thirty minutes."

     I blink. He's reserved, cold, icy. I contemplate whether to go for my plan or just stick to what we're doing now. "Thanks for letting me sleep," I say, smiling.

     "That's okay. You looked like you needed it." He doesn't have to look at the tissue he offered me, covered in my drool now, to make me understand.

     I don't stop smiling. "So shall we move on?" I can feel my left eye twitching.

     "Of course." He says nothing more.

     My tongue is between my teeth. Don't hit him, Eda. "How's your work?"

    "Good." He picks up his coffee mug and sips from it gently.

   "Hmm." Control. "I've met your mother once. She is delightful. I've heard you take after your father, no?"

     His hand on the coffee mug halts for a second. Something sparks in his eyes. A hint of a smirk crawls it's way up his formerly disinterested face. "I take after neither of them."

     He isn't willing to play the game. I can tell. Too bad I have to play it. "I see—"

     "How's your work, Miss Clemonte? You work at the City Hospital, no?

     I do my best at hiding the mild surprise I get when he asks me that. "I do," I answer suspiciously.

     "Why do you not work in one of your family's hospitals?"

"No reason."

"I see." He grins to himself, taking turns in sipping from his coffee and glancing at the view outside.

"Me both don't want to get married to each other, do we, Mister Cherauno?" I do not wait for an answer. "So let's cut to the chase."

He doesn't move but I notice the abrupt blink and hesitant sip. He was surprised. Asher Cherauno is different. He's playing this game but not cooperating with the rules.

He turns to me, swift and confident. The way the corner of his lips turn up but it doesn't look like he's smiling makes me unsteady. I've seen that smile somewhere before. That smug awareness. Like he knows something about me.

What is he?