When the Paint goes Dry

Chapter Ten

"What?"

Did I stutter? I grabbed some plates out, looking up to meet his grey eyes, "Dinner? Pizza? Do you want some?" I asked slower, much slower, breaking it into pieces like I would for Archie as he just stared at me.

"No, I um, need to go. Thank you."

I scoffed waving an arm "Please, it's night time, where on earth do you need to be,"I flicked my ponytail out of my face, "Work?"

"Yes, work, I have heaps to do." I raised an eyebrow, "Bullshit, it's late, just shut up and sit down, I'll order pizza." Without pickles I silently added in my head, damn, but I really wanted some pickles and jalapeños on my pizza tonight. 

Actually, now I wish he did leave, so then I can order my pizza with pickles, but I guess I might have just scared him into sitting onto the bench staring at me like some little kid, yep, without pickles it was. 

"Do you usually scare people to keep your company for dinner?" he asked once I got off the phone after ordering pizzas and I looked at him as I hung the phone up.

"No, usually I just stuff pickles in their pizza."

His face changed so fast I nearly laughed at how red it was, clearly he didn't like pickles. But how? They were so delicious. Well just the cucumber pickles. 

"I was joking. Do you want water?" I asked as I refilled our empty glasses and passed him his one. "I still can't believe you broke your wrist gardening," I said trying not to laugh as I mentioned what he told me earlier in the day, I watched his neck go red again.

"I thought we wouldn't mention this again," Damien shifted on his chair narrowing his eyes at me and I shrugged, "Relax, I'm only kidding." 

Even though it was extremely hilarious. For some reason he seemed a lot less...calm that we were back in the apartment, glancing at his phone every few minutes. He was so relaxed at the park, just enjoying the atmosphere and here he looked like he had a stick up his arse.

What was I meant to say? Well maybe this was a bad idea asking him in for dinner, but it had been ages since I had company that made me laugh I thought it was just something we could do, as friends. We also needed to make up a plan of what we would tell our mum and his dad. There was no way we were compatible, I mean the man hated pickles for gods sake and my wedding cake had to have pickles.

"So," I said looking around at the clock, where the hell was the pizza guy, "What type of work do you do?"

"Oil refinery."

"What?" I asked, "What do you do?"

"People sell me their oil, I refine it and take all the impurities out, and then sell it back to them," he said with a slight amused expression and it took me ten minutes to realise what he just said.

"Wait, so people pay you twice for the same oil? They pay you to fix it and then buy it back?" he nodded shrugging and my eyes widened, "No wonder your family is so rich," I scoffed, "No offence," I added just in case he got insulted.

"But I swear my sister told me your family business was like, accounting or something."

"Yes, Roberts, not mine."

"Yeah, oh wait so you and your dad do different things?" I rotated the glass in my hands, that was impressive if he started the business himself, I wonder if he did?

"No my dad-wait, no, I think you're confused." Damien said clearing his throat, "I'm not Robert."

"Well duh you're Damien." I said, was he alright? Was the cold getting to his head or something. Maybe he was tired, I really should have let him go home, that way I could eat pizza with pickles.