CHAPTER 23

 
 
Lips! Those kissable lips, dripping with
honey on one corner, so sweet and so succulent. That little quirk
at the corner, curving into a smile, a smile that would lighten up
a dark room or brighten up a dull day.
Oh how she just wanted to lean forward and…
and…
“Yooo, Avocado! What are you staring at?
Want a bite of my pastry?”
“Ah?” Clarice was jolted awake, gazing
around once more.
Oh, right. They were in a restaurant
outside, having lunch. And “they” referred to Anton, Fern,
Caroline, Hunter, and herself.
After their surprise meeting at the
elevator, Anton had asked Hunter to hand Clarice over to him, which
in turn made her fall due to her weak status, which made Hunter
burst out that she must be hungry. All five of them sat wedged
together in a booth, like a can of sardines, staring at each other
as if they were strangers in a jail cell.
But what made the whole situation worse was
Clarice spacing out, sitting there staring at those lips that were
busy munching on that pastry. Yes, those lips she wanted to touch
with her own, those lips that didn’t belong to Anton, but to that
Casanova Hunter.
What was wrong with her? Had her hormones
gone haywire, wanting things so out of her reach?
Not really. Hunter wasn’t out of her reach,
but it wasn’t sensible, not sensible at all. Kissing Hunter would
be scandalous. Here she had slept with Anton, the man sitting right
in front of her, but now she was lusting after Hunter, which she’d
just found to be Anton’s cousin and one of the Silverton’s. So that
must mean he was one of the heirs to Silverton Enterprises too.
Oh, Clarice, get real, she told
herself, silently whacking some sense into her brain. What in the
world was she thinking?
“Hunter, who are you calling an avocado?”
Anton asked, eyeing him sharply while cutting up his lasagna.
“This woman here,” Hunter said playfully,
indicating Clarice, edging himself closer to her.
“Avocado?” Fern said, cocking her head to
one side as if to see why Hunter would name this exotic beauty
Avocado. After a moment of studying Clarice’s face, she smiled,
which caused Anton to almost have a heart attack. He quickly turned
back to his lasagna and shoved more into his already full
mouth.
That’s it, Fern thought. She now
understood why Hunter would name this beautiful porcelain doll with
jet-black hair an Avocado. “You are very beautiful,” Fern said,
smiling at Clarice, taking both of her hands within hers. “Only a
beautiful creature like you should be called an avocado by
Hunter.”
Hunter gave out a hacking cough, his drink
having entered the wrong pipe, when he heard his friend say this.
And if that weren't enough, he even managed to make a fool of
himself by spilling his entire drink on the wooden table too.
Caroline, who was sitting on his other side,
immediately came to his rescue, wiping his mouth with a napkin,
hoping to gain some brownie points in his eyes, while the others
were in a haste to clean up the table.
“Hunter?” Fern asked once the table was
clean again. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Hunter said. But obviously he
wasn’t. He was red in the face.
Good God! Beautiful? How did his friend
deduce that from the name Avocado? He didn’t know how an avocado
could be beautiful. And what was Caroline doing wiping his mouth
for him? He wasn’t a goddamn baby. So he pushed her hands away from
his face, slightly annoyed with her interference. He didn’t need
anyone to look after him. He was capable of looking after himself.
Although, he wouldn’t mind if someone else, who was sitting on his
other side, were to wipe his mouth for him. Subconsciously, he
turned to his other side and saw Clarice looking lost.
She was confused. How could an avocado be
beautiful? When Hunter explained the name to her, he said the plant
was old and wrinkly, just like her. She just couldn’t understand
it, but when she saw Fern give her a genuine smile, she returned
the gesture. Fern seemed like a very nice person. Maybe she could
get along very well with this girl.
Caroline was genuinely angry because Hunter
had pushed her hand away, which really hurt her ego. So in retort,
she pushed that anger towards Fern instead.
“Miss Fern, what planet are you from, saying
an avocado is a beauty?” Caroline pretended to laugh innocently.
“Avocado is merely a fruit. Plus, it’s old and wrinkly.”
Bang on again. Clarice wasn’t happy the
blonde was saying she was old. She knew already that out of all
three women sitting there, she was by far the oldest. So it
shouldn’t really have this much effect on her, but somehow, she was
feeling too sensitive today. She didn’t like Caroline.
“Fern thinks an avocado is a God-given
beauty. Isn’t that right, Hunter?” Fern asked her friend again, to
which he merely replied with a grunt and another cough. Fern shook
her head and turned back to Clarice to smile at her before moving
along to face Caroline. “An avocado is the elixir of beauty. Women
use avocado for facemasks and everything. And Fern thought you
would have known this. What planet are you from,
Caroline?”
Caroline didn’t know how to respond. She was
at a loss for words.
“No words?” Fern smirked at Caroline,
knowing now that she’d beaten her enemy by one point.
Clarice wasn’t comfortable eating lunch with
people she didn’t know. And why were those two fighting anyway?
More importantly, though, where was her appetite today? The food
didn’t taste horrible or anything. She forked the contents on her
plate, feeling a sense of nausea coming on, but she closed her eyes
and breathed slowly. She supposed she didn’t like Hunter sitting so
close to her like this.
Hunter was unintentionally edging himself
closer to Clarice still, as he could feel his seat being taken over
by Caroline on his other side.
But the fact that his cousin was constantly
looking at his avocado in an admiring and worrying way throughout
their whole conversation didn’t sit well in his stomach. So to
counteract this feeling and to lift the strained tension between
Fern and Caroline, he asked, “So how did you two meet?”
“We met when she came to meet with one of
our staff to talk about the conference in Queenstown,” Anton said,
eyeing Clarice’s pale face with concern.
Clarice didn’t want to be reminded of how
she and Anton had met. She just wanted to be alone with him to ask
him about their time in Queenstown, if he could remember at all of
course. But taking in his reaction now, all he showed was his
normal icy face, the same he had on before they went to
Queenstown.
“Do you know how I met Clarice?” Hunter
teased, looking around at his audience.
Oh, dear heavens, Clarice prayed,
jolting her thoughts to Hunter’s comment. Please don’t let that
Casanova tell everyone about how I—
“She confessed her love to me,” Hunter
finished her thoughts.
This statement had Anton dropping his fork,
which hit the plate, then dropped to the floor.
Caroline fisted her hands beneath the table.
Another challenge. Another target. When would Hunter stop seeing
these women and start seeing the perfect woman right in front of
him?
“Confession? What kind of confession?” Fern
asked, not realizing the tension happening inside their small
circle.
“I accidently delivered flowers to his
house.” Clarice intercepted Hunter just in time before he started
opening his big mouth and spouting out more lies about how she was
delivering those flowers just to confess her undying love for
him.
“Oh, I thought you were… Owwww,” Hunter
howled when Clarice stamped on his foot to shut him up.
“Hunter, what’s wrong?” Fern and Caroline
asked at the same time.
“Mosquitoes,” Hunter muttered under his
breath, glaring at Clarice.
“Yes. They must be swarming.” Clarice forced
a smile, agreeing with Hunter as she eyed him threateningly.
Hunter just nodded his head, a twinkle of
mischief in his eyes. Oh, he would gladly return the favour. When
his foot was about to land on hers, his eyes caught sight of Winton
trotting their way.
Like a dog being pulled by a leash, Winton
jogged to their table and only came to a complete standstill when
he reached Clarice’s side, gawking at her like she was a piece of
sweet candy.
“I want black licorice. I choose black
licorice. I don’t want strawberry or banana. I chose black
licorice,” Winton said by way of announcing himself.
“Winton, what are you doing here?” Anton
asked his subordinate, who was still lost in his dreamland.
“Black licorice. Winton wants black
licorice.”
“Winton!” Anton shouted at his subordinate
again.
“Wh-what?” Winton came back to reality. “Ah,
boss. Sorry. What did you say?” he asked, but his eyes were still
fixed on this exotic beauty. There was no need for a confused
decision anymore. He’d made up his mind. He wanted that black
licorice there, sitting next to Master Hunter.
“Winton!” Anton shouted again.
“What?” Winton shouted back. Ah, blue
blazes, did he just shout at his boss?
Winton turned around to see Anton glaring at
him.
“What are you doing here?” Anton
shouted.
“You didn’t turn up at the meeting so I
thought you might be in the restaurant since it’s lunchtime,”
Winton said to Anton, but his eyes and body were automatically
turned towards Clarice. “Can I have my lunch here too?” he
asked.
“No, we don’t have room for one more
per—”
“Thanks, boss,” Winton said, shuffling Anton
to the middle seat so he could take his place sitting right in
front of his favourite black licorice.
All Hunter could do at this point was stare
wide-eyed at Winton. How dare Winton treat his avocado like this?
Winton needed a lesson in who belongs to whom.
“Winton… I—” Hunter began.
“I’m Winton,” Winton said, stretching over
the table so he could shake hands with Clarice.
Winton felt all giddy inside. He wanted to
feel that soft hand within his grasp so he could embed the feel of
her skin into his memory forever.
“Clarice.” Clarice smiled at Winton. “Very
nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all minnnnneee—ooooohhh.”
Winton howled when he felt someone step on his foot.
“Oh, must be those mosquitoes again,” Hunter
said, pretending to act all innocent. “Very annoying. Just be
careful. It might bite you too, Anton,” he said, turning to his
cousin, who hadn’t a clue as to what was going on.
“Mosquitoes?” Winton said, jumping up out of
his chair. “I don’t like mosquitoes. They suck blood. The doctor
said I have sweet blood. I can’t afford for those mosquitoes to
drink my blood.”
“That’s right, Winton. Mosquitoes love sweet
blood. What are you going to do now that it has a taste of you
already? I think it’s best if you go back insiiiiiddeeeeeee…”
Hunter howled again when he felt Clarice stamping on his foot. But
he ignored the pain and said through gritted teeth, his eyes
sending a death glare to Clarice, “This way you won’t attract
more.”
“Oh, I should be fine,” Winton said happily,
brushing aside the comment.
Hunter wasn’t happy that his plan backfired.
He was starting to get pissed off with this whole situation. In
fact, the person he was getting pissed off with the most was
Clarice. She was like a dead flower that had been revived by water
just by having Winton and Anton staring at her. Sheesh! And what
the hell was with Caroline? She was like bubblegum glued to his
side. He wasn’t comfortable sitting next to her at all. So to vent
his anger, he started stamping his foot on Caroline’s too when she
edged closer to his side.
“Owwwww!” Caroline shrieked, unladylike.
“Did the mosquito bite Caroline too?” Fern
asked, laughing.
Caroline was mad, and because she thought
the one who stamped on her foot was Fern, she stamped on Fern’s
foot too.
Fern let out a squeal, which led Anton to
look strangely at the redhead beside him. This made Fern mad
because Anton just saw her in a very unladylike position, so she
exacted her revenge by planning to stamp on Caroline’s foot, except
Caroline was quick and it ended up being Hunter who had to face the
unpleasant wrath of Fern’s four-inch heel.
And before Anton could comprehend what was
really going on, everyone ended up moaning and groaning about
having sore feet, with Winton rushing off back inside the
restaurant, not wanting to experience another attack of the vicious
mosquito that had everyone in so much pain.
When the table was vacant of Winton, Anton
still stared quizzically at the people around the table, wondering
if there really were mosquitoes in New Zealand, but his thought was
interrupted when the waiter came over with their coffees.
“Sorry for the delay, sir,” the waiter said,
giving the coffee to Hunter, passing it under Clarice’s nose.
The sudden strong aroma wafted into
Clarice’s nose, making her gag all of a sudden, and before she knew
it, she raced to the women’s bathroom and spewed the entirety of
her meal.
What was wrong with her? She must really be
sick. Was she really that nervous about talking to Anton that she
couldn’t keep her food down? Maybe she was a little upset because
Anton didn’t seem to know anything about that night, even when
they’d mentioned their stay in Queenstown. Then she felt someone
rubbing her back and handing her paper towels.
“Thank you,” she managed to say after she
wiped her mouth. Then she turned to face—
“Hunter!” she shouted in fright. “What are
you doing here? This is the women’s bathroom.”
“So?” Hunter said, clueless as to why this
would cause Clarice so much distress.
“So get out,” Clarice said through gritted
teeth. Sometimes Hunter could be so dumb.
“You’re not well. I just want to make sure
you’re fine,” Hunter said, coming closer, placing his palm on her
forehead. “Your temperature is okay. So why did you vomit? Was it
the food?” he asked, concerned. His face was so close to hers that
she found she was having trouble breathing again.
“I’m fine. I don’t think it’s the food. I
hardly ate anything,” she said, turning the other way.
Please, don’t look at those lips, she
told herself. Just please don’t look at those lips.
“You don’t like it?” Hunter asked, nudging
her chin to face him, and they locked their eyes together. Then her
eyes had a mind of their own as they inadvertently drifted to
Hunter’s lips.
“It’s nice, but I just can’t eat it,”
Clarice said, forcing herself to look at his chest instead.
“Your stomach is playing up?” Hunter asked
innocently, tilting up her chin so he could look at those dilated
pupils again. “I’ll take you to the hospital. You might have the
flu or something.”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll just go back—”
And then she hunched over the toilet again
as another strong urge came welling up to her throat, making her
vomit once more.
“Clarice, God.” Hunter started rubbing her
back again.
After the sudden urge died down, she stood
and rested against the wall, but her body was just so weak that she
slumped against Hunter instead.
Clarice, oh my God. Hunter’s heart
pounded, crying out for the woman in his arms. He wanted to
continue to hold her like this forever, to feel this warmth
transmitting to his own body. What was wrong with him? How come she
felt so perfect in his arms? He couldn’t understand what was going
on.
“Clarice?” His voice shook a little. “You’re
clearly not well. I’m taking you to the hospital now. Let’s
go.”
“Hunter, what do you think you’re doing?”
Clarice asked hoarsely, pulling back from him, but she was just so
tired, so out of energy that she let him carry her all the way to
his car. But Anton, Fern, and Caroline intercepted them before
Hunter could complete his mission.
“What’s going on?” Anton asked, turning to
Clarice. “Are you all right? You don’t look well. I should take you
to the hospital.”
“Fern will come too,” Fern offered. “It’s
good if Junior Silverton has someone else to look after her while
he drives.”
“It’s fine. I’ve already decided to take
her,” Hunter said, tugging Clarice’s head close to his chest again.
“And didn’t you say you have another meeting after lunch?”
Shit, Anton swore to himself. He’d
totally forgotten about that other meeting. “Then you take good
care of Clarice,” Anton demanded. “I’ll call you later.”
Anton watched his cousin leave with Clarice
and Fern in tow. After the car disappeared from his sight, he
quietly went back to his office to prepare for his meeting.
Caroline watched the entire exchange with
fists clenched by her sides. This cannot be, she thought.
She must get rid of this girl. No one else would get Hunter.