Chapt. 5

He would be a baptized liar if he said his heart never seized beating frantically when he saw Louisa. At first, he couldn't make her out during the introduction and still couldn't after it. She was different. The good and bad kind of different; five years had taken a pretty damn toll on her femalehood. The mop of braided ginger hair withstood by the straw hat shone with a burning splendor just like he recalled, in revenge, her caked up elongated face held a hideous crimson red garnished lip and fierce extravagantly touched up evergreen pair of eyes. He remembered Cass putting on those. She called them 'winged liner', 'cat eyes' or something of the sort.

On normal circumstances- if he hadn't known Louisa that is- he would've classified her, on physical inspection, as a haughty self-reliant and self-centered young lady ready to hop on thirsty men's pants one night and have them tail her only to crush and rub their egos for as long as she's satisfied. Luckily, the Louisa he knew was an ocean wide from being that way. 

On personality inspection, he could sense a cyclone of fear, fragility, and loathing. A side of him not dubious about the prior and latter. 

"You've been staring at her for too long," Norton croaked. 

Mason who was nonchalantly leaning on a dilapidated bookshelf, sighed in exasperation. Since the arrival of that Adrian, he hadn't had a chance to talk to Louisa even during their house tour. He spent most of the time glued to her, agreeing to what she agreed with and opposing what she opposed.

"You like her?" Norton chirped.

How ignorant of him. Mason's lips flattened at the sight of Adrian's hand on Louisa's bareback as he led her to a corner of the living room, that was the most he could do to not erupt on the clingy sloth. He made her laugh, really hard that he grew goosebumps. What was with him?

"Whatever is in that head of yours should be a strategy to win her before my brother does. He's a dick when it comes to women."

I can see that. He almost said.

If he was glad for one thing in his entire life, it was the realization that her ring finger was bare and that she still carried the name Woods, however, he wasn't going to let his guard down on gaining her heart back if not, why did he return? Why did he even live? 

"I'm off to the hotel," Mason tapped his friend on the shoulder. If he was supposed to act quickly and effectively, he ought to start with the basics: rest his body, mind, and soul. Also, it was a good excuse to not ogle for the day. "Mariott resort isn't it?"

Tonight he and Louisa would be meeting Mr. Rudolph on the budget negotiations. How he looked forward to that, at least it was going to be the beginning of some alone time with her.

"It is," Norton confirmed. "What about tomorrow?"

"Oh, my team will here as early as six, work starts at eight latest. I still have some modifications to do on the plan which has to be set by midnight."

"Very well then. I on the other hand will be leaving for New York tomorrow. Still got a handful of errands to run but will make sure to see your handy before due time."

"Safe journey, Norton. For the meantime, get ma ass outta here."

*

At the embrace of his suite, Mason dove into a warm shower reminiscing the day's event. Out of all, he fought to push the last event to the back of his mind to no avail. 

He couldn't wait to work with Louisa which was a miracle and an opportunity to get a foot closer to her.

As time flew, he indulged himself into more work than rest that by five pm, as earlier planned with Mr. Rudolph, he was all set for the meeting. He suddenly wondered if Louisa was already there. Professionally thinking he wouldn't dispute that she was already chatting with Mr. Rudolph over a glass while waiting for him.

"Sorry, I'm late." He croaked upon entering into the dazzling sitting section of the hotel room. As earlier thought, he interrupted the duo chatting over a glass of wine. 

"Don't be silly, you're not at all late," the comment had Mason switching his gaze to his watch which read seven minutes into five. "Come have a seat and serve yourself a glass."

The only lady, whose glance did not mistakenly graze him since his entry, elegantly dropped her glass on the sophisticated marble center table. 

"I presume the analysis and verdicts are prepared?" Mr. Rudolph began after Mason got comfortable, "Because I do not want to be interrupted by phone calls concerning deficits as I'll be very busy in the next five days. So, if there are or will be any further amendments say so now, " Mr. Rudolph's stare switched from one individual to the other.

"Sir?"

"Daniel," he corrected.

"Daniel," Mason cleared his throat to welcome the awkwardness, "I examined the plumbing during a solo tour, though not my domain, I must say that the pipes are pretty rusty and if measures aren't taken as soon as we can it might end up causing damage in the nearest future."

"Very good of you to have pointed it out, Mr. Donovan. I'll make sure to see into that with the plumber before I leave for Angeles." Mason satisfactorily nodded. "Anything else? Louisa?"

Her name sent his organs jolting amuck. 

"Oh, no, there certainly is nothing to add up on my side."

"Is that so?" She stiffly nodded like she was royalty. "Ok then, I don't think there's any more for us to say," Mr. Rudolph's glances bounced from one silent to another. "Fine. I didn't think this meeting will go this swiftly. Here, Louisa, let me refill your glass. It'll be a pleasure to be in good company for the next hour."

"Needless," she lifted her delicate crimson polished fingers to a stop, "If I do not offend you, I'll like to take my leave."

"Why so soon?"

A similar question rained in Mason's mind.

"Nerry will be meeting me tonight concerning the decor." Her reply displayed bitterness but Daniel didn't seem fazed. Perhaps it was just him noticing the apathy out of guilt. 

"Alright then." 

With the graciousness of a swan, Louisa evacuated the heated room down the hall and into the lobby, relief blanketing her like a fish set back into its niche. She took slow and steady breathes as if learning how to breathe, the air filling her constricted lungs being the only thing that mattered.

Her next step, after her short-lived escape, was smashed when a voice behind her spoke, "Good evening."

She needed not another word from him to confirm who it truly was. Without sparing the young man a glance, Louisa scurried past the crowded lobby as fast as her black stilettos could take her.

Even through the webby muffles of the parading hotel occupants, Louisa could still figure out the distinct rushed clicking of his shoes. 

The only things that delayed her were the heels and the glittery expensive marbled stairways she was clambering, so she used her sixth sense to pluck them off.

"Louisa," the pleading voice echoed accelerating her quickness. Even though she knew so well that he'll end up catching up with her before she made it to her room, she wished not to raise the white flag until then. And maybe she could make use of her assault alarm skills if things got to the worst--

"Louisa, please," --which finally did when his calloused hands from years of drilling, pulling, and hammering clasped her exposed arm. 

"What is it, Mr. Donovan?" She appeared calm like she wasn't just running a semi-marathon a while ago. 

"We need to talk, please."

"Ok, but," she gestured her eyes to his grip on her arm, "you do not want people thinking otherwise, do you?"

Mason immediately withdrew. His throat suddenly felt too dry for words to pass-through than it was years back. Her presence before him rendered him speechless for unknown reasons to mankind. His mouth opened yet, the words failed him again. 

Louisa, who seemed to have gotten tired of feeding her amusement off his fumbles, dropped her stilettos and hopped into them with ease. 

"I have not enough time to spare, Mr. Donovan. If you have nothing to say then I may take my leave," she composed.

"Wait," he stopped her, "We really need to talk but this is not the right place to do so."

She got canngled by the twinkles of his brown skin beneath the lightened hall for a while before regaining composure, "Listen, Mr. Donovan, you must know that anything business-related doesn't have a right place to me. Here and now is fine."

"It's not business-related and please stop addressing me as Mr. Donovan."

"I'm sorry, we have nothing to say then, Mr. Donovan. So please stop following me or I'll call security, better still raise an alarm." She used her eyes to gesture the populated surrounding as the corner of her lip tugged.

Mason fought back a cackle which failed miserably causing Louisa to scan her surrounding in embarrassment.

"And why will you do that?"

"Because I can and want to see you belittled like I once--" she suddenly stopped, "Good night, Mr. Donovan."

Mason followed her not only because he wanted to hear the sequel of her words and keep on seeing the radiance of her beauty but also because he needed to talk to her as much as he needed to breathe.

"I hurt you," she froze in motion, "I know and I've been living with the guilt for the past one thousand eight hundred and eighteen days to be precise. If sorry were a man it'll be me."

He slowly reached to her immobile figure, attempted to hold her wrist which she didn't retract. He pierced into her once lowered glassy emotionless eyes in search of a glint of hope. "Louisa, say something."

Her lips moved and Mason found himself yearning for her to speak for he knew it was going to be something positive, at least.

"I have a long rest ahead same as you do. Good night once more, Mr. Donovan."

She swerved to the door on her left and fished for her key card leaving Mason with an erratic interior. 

"I will stop at nothing, Louisa. And I know you'll agree with me that it's a miracle we ended up opposite neighbors." 

Louisa scrunched her face to comprehend what he meant only to see him unlock the door opposite hers. She knew she failed miserably at hiding her shock when he smiled at her and said, 

"Have a good rest, Ms. Woods."