Unspoken Truths

57. Unforgetable Encounters

Standing on the sidewalk in front of a tall building that cuts through the sky.  The name 'Pearce Institute of Finance', displayed a few feet away from where we stood. Standing here now and taking the situation into account.

This plan seems a bit ridiculous. I look over at Red to see how she's fairing, since she hasn't said a word since we left Danny's. Given the account she hasn't said a word, the worried expression on her face and constant twiddling of her fingers she  seems to be thinking the same.

"Ready", I ask.

She looks at me with a helpless gaze and returns it back on the tall building.

"Sure", she says with a heavy sigh. "I mean we've practiced. We've went through this many times already with no hiccups, what's one more."

She bites at her lip before she continues, " You've got this", she gestures to me. If you asked me, I'd say it was more to herself than to me. 

I grab her rattling hand and lightly squeeze it to get her attention, "We've got this...", I say with determination. "Baabbe", I drag out teasingly.

Red and I had the discussion of pet names back at Danny's and decided on my usual pet name for her and..well 'Sam' for me. 'Baby' still being on the table if we ever needed to really sell the story of us as a couple. Which as she mentioned, there would be many instances where we'd have to really bring our A-game.

"We've got this", she reiterates with a chuckle and a shake of her head in dismiss of my teasing.

" I mean, there were flashcards. There's no way we can mess this up", I patronized as I pull her towards the double doors.

" Oh shut up, I worked really hard on them", she retorts and pinches me in the process.

Tonight is all about Red. No more sulking over Kate. It's time to move on. Leave whatever it was in the past. I was nothing more than a passtime for her anyways. Probably a high she could get off on for cheating on her boyfriend right under his nose. Thinking about it that way really dampens my mood. Pushing my thoughts aside to focus on the task at hand. 'I'll do my moping afterwards'.

Rebecca's POV

'Everything's gunna be fine', a mantra that plays on loop in my head as Sam and I make our way to the elevator.

"Uhh Red, isn't the event that way", she asks.

" My dad's hosting remember. Besides, nothing begins until we greet father dearest", I jest.

"And, he's not a mafia overlord", she asks her voice giving off a bit of  trepidation.

"Positive", I chuckled hugging her arm as reassurance.

Thinking on it, it wouldn't surprise me if he actually was. Given how secretive he can be. The long periods of no communication and the excessive amount of bodyguards he has at his disposal. There was even that time he sent bodyguards to the cafe for my protection.

They were posted at the front door, like bouncers at a club. Insistent on frisking anyone that chose to enter. We barely got any customers that day because of it. Even after I got my dad to be understanding and agree to at least one guard, it took a while for us to obtain even half the amount of customers we get on regular basis.

Down the hall to my left, I notice the guards that are posted along the wall like usual.

"Hello Clifford...Henfield".

They don't reply as per the usual. The only response I get is Clifford paging, who I can only assume is dad that I arrived. The term 'mocking bird' being used. The incredulous look on Sam's face speaks volumes, no matter how hard I try to ignore it.  One I can only guess says' really youre gunna tell me that your dad's not a mafia leader'.

The door opens to reveal my father sporting a huge smile on his face before I can respond to her.

"There's my favorite daughter in the whole wide world", he beams wearing a black tux with a velvet red trim.

"Dad, I'm your only daughter", I laugh.

"That's debatable", a familiar voice comments.

Dad glares at the man now beside him.

"Don't speak such nonsense in front of my daughter, Elliot", he warns.

Elliot's my dad's brother. They partner this company in particular, together. Uncle El's wearing a suit similar to dad's but its all white. I could never understand how people could wear an all white look. They must be really confident in keep it clean or must be obsessively clean to maintain it the entire outing.

" What it's the truth. It's not my fault you were such a lady's man", uncle retorts and mutters, "And that's putting it lightly". I heard him quite clearly despite that.

" And who might you be", my dad's eyes zone in on Sam.

"Samantha sir, nice to meet you" she greets shaking his hand.

"Firm handshake", he comments looking her over closely as if searching for some flaw.

"Of course", she replies.

Standing off to the side in observation at the encounter, it looks more like a staring match than a greeting of pleasantries. My nerves bubbling up to the surface as time ticks on.

"Antoine quit trying to scare her, it's clearly not working. We have other guests to greet and a ribbon to cut".

Not a moment too soon, they both concede. I release a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. He takes a few steps towards the noise of bustling guests that can be heard a distance away.

" I'll see you two a little later tonight. We have a lot of catching up to do", he says before leaving with uncle El beside him and his two bodyguards in tow.

Watching their fleeting figures and couldn't help but compare them to the infamous entities. The little devil and angel that sits on one's shoulder whispering in our ears, battling over what decision one should make. In my opinion, my dad's and uncle's roles should be the other way around.

"Well, that went better than I thought", I sighed walking towards Sam to take her arm to lead her towards the party.

She doesn't say a word, her body frozen and feet planted where they stood.

"Sam. Hey... Sam", I exclaim.

Great, he broke her.

----------------------

Little do the women know that someone was listening in on them. A man with a sly grin, his ear peering around the corner at the other end of hall.

"I still got it", he boasts to himself. Brushing off imaginative dust from the chest of his tux, returning to the busy body of guests.