Chapter 7 Bella - Martin 7

• Martin
• I promised my father I'd meet him at a coffee shop to "talk," and he was lucky to get this after standing me up this weekend.
• I was really not looking forward to seeing it, but these were the costs of my family funding an entire foundation for low-income children. It was a very ambitious start-up. And this is what I came to an agreement to when I returned to Manila. To start engaging with my father and talk to him about our "business," which was a charitable organization, I kept telling him, with the goal of serving rather than profiting, but he hadn't acknowledged that. Yet.
• So here I was, on my way to meet him at the coffee shop down the main road, away from my clinic, thank you very much. It had been recommended as having really good coffee and food, but all I really considered necessary was a neutral location where I could flee if my father became too much for me. I couldn't ever stand him for more than fifteen minutes. No more than a half-hour. I took a deep breath and entered.
• The door bell rang, and the barista behind the counter looked up.
• Bella was the one.
• Her eyes widened at the sight of me, and it was as if the entire world vanished. I couldn't help but be drawn to her. I couldn't keep myself away. I couldn't stop smiling. “Bella.”
• “Hey! Back of the queue, no cutting, asshole," some guy said, and I looked up to see that this was a somewhat busy café, with a half dozen people on top of me, and I had just glided towards the front of the line as if it were my right.
• On the wall above the counter, there was a long list of complicated-sounding drinks described. I shook my head out of my trance and smiled sheepishly at Bella.
• "I'm sorry," I muttered as I moved to the back of the line. I couldn't take my gaze away from her. Her hair was back in a bun, but this time she was wearing a green polo and a black apron. Was this true? Was she truly present? I was starting to doubt my credentials as a man of science because I couldn't help but think if this thing between us was fate. Fate. Something. There was no scientific explanation for this.
• "Hello, Dr. Lawson," she said as I approached the front of the line. Her smile was timid, almost uncomfortable. Her fingers nervously tapped on the counter.
• "Martin, Bella, call me Martin..." I didn't like the fact that she was using my title. "Did you come to my clinic for this reason?" Because you work just down the road? ”
• Her hair was falling from her bun and curled in front of her ear. I attempted to check across the counter and tuck it behind the counter.
• "It was purely coincidental that I brought my daughter to your clinic. I swear to God."
• "And what about this?"
• I took a look around the café.
• She threw up her hands in defeat. "A girl has to make a living."
• "You haven't ever mentioned working in a coffee shop."
• "Well, we haven't really got around to talking, did we?"
• Her voice lowered, and there was that spark again when she looked up at me.
• "Do you want to?" I queried, starting to lean as close to the cash register as I could.
• “Talk? ”
• She bit her lower lip. "I believe so. But I'm at work," she said, motioning behind me. The queue was still quite long. The café was bustling, despite the fact that I'd only been looking at her.
• "I have your phone number. I'll contact you."
• "Would you?”
• She gave me a direct look. "Yes," as if the word meant something more than it did. It was as if there was a pretty much entire world behind it. I had the impression there was. Then she dodged her head and looked up at me, her lashes fluttering.
• "But for the time being, what can I get you to drink?"
• I gave her my order, paid, and left a five hundred peso in the tip jar, then stood by the side and watched her while I stood waiting for my drink.
• I liked how her cheeks were pink as she started taking the other orders and how she kept peering at me and shaking her head at me, trying to restrain her smile, before returning to work.
• “Doc Handsome," said the dull barista behind the coffee maker. I had to laugh when she giggled and winked at me.
• "That's probably me," I said as I walked away, facing the café seating for the first time. I should really have looked for my father earlier, but Bella had captured my interest.
• My dad was sitting at the table with a porcelain cuppa joe and a bottle of sparkling water, observing me intently. His hair was swept back, and his suit cost a lot of money. Everything there is about him cost a lot of money. As I slid into the seat in front of him, he raised an eyebrow at me.
• "Who was that?"
• "It's none of your business. What did you want to discuss with me?" Just having to sit with him made my blood chill.
• "All right, Martin. I vowed to your mother that I would try to make amends with you. Be cooperative."
• "Did you guarantee her that?" Hmm.”
• It didn't make sense to me. He was well aware that I didn't believe it. My mother was well aware that he had never kept a promise in his life.
• "I assumed it had something to do with being faithful to her."
• He sucked his teeth and looked around the café as if nothing had happened.
• "You were indeed, your mother's son? You really know how to hold a grudge and how to judge others who fall short of your perfect standards." He stood behind the counter, watching Bella take orders.
• "However, you inherited the taste when it comes to women from me. That's a smokin' piece of ass. I'd like to see her in a pair of stiletto heels and a strapless bra."
• My blood was boiling, and I couldn't hear what he was saying for a split second. He went on to say what he wished to see. What he'd give anything to do to Bella.
• My Bella.
• I restrained myself by clenching my fists on the table. I was constantly reminding myself that I wasn't letting him get to me at all any more, that I would be free of him. That I was an adult living my own life. I inhaled deeply and then folded my hands. Standing up, I looked down at the man I had looked up to since I was a child, before discovering what kind of man he was.
• "Father," I said, my voice calm and collected. "You invited me here to discuss some prospects for my foundation."
• "It's the foundation of the family, Martin, not just yours."
• "This is my foundation. This was the explanation. I returned. The Friend That Lasts Forever Foundation is entirely mine. It's all under my control. Detach from Metzger Industry sectors. As a result, you can't actually do business with it, and we don't need to talk about it. As a result, you can't actually do business with it, and we don't really need to talk about it."
• "This isn't business," he grumbled. "This is home. It is in our family's better interests."
• "Father, you haven't ever cared about our family. You were only concerned about money and what it could buy you. "I'm not trying to look for what you're looking for."
• I wanted him to avoid Bella, but I really can not tell him because he'd realize she meant something more to me and would use her to get to me.
• "You can contact me through Mom if you really need to talk about 'family' again."
• I ended up turning around, wanting to scream as I felt the frustration in my back and shoulders, and walked away.
• “Martin!" he yipped. As if that were going to deter me.
• I was half the way down the back when I noticed another person calling my name. I spun around.
• “Martin! Martin! " Bella dashed down the street. She was holding a paper coffee cup.
• "You forgot your coffee," she said, laughing awkwardly.
• Because of how outrageous everything was, I had to laugh along with her. I drank the coffee.
• "I sincerely apologize you had to witness it. That– that jerk is my father."
• "There is not much to look at. If that was a scenario in your family, I hate to imagine what you'd think of mine on any given Festivities." Her smile nearly blinded me.
• "Oh, the screams! Murder and revenge allegations! There was once an opera battle. I'm not sure how we got there, but there was definitely a competitive pressure to see who could hit a high C. It was not a pretty sight."
• I ran my fingers through my hair. She was a great pleasure. Seeing her was far superior than having to meet with my father. Even better, she'd come after me. "I believe I'd like to attend your Festivities. My parents were never like that. We were always told to speak discreetly and never let our enemies know what we were thinking. And treat everyone as an enemy."
• “Everyone? ”
• "This includes the rest of the family. All of us. No one could ever be trusted. But we were meant to be dignified about it."
• "Martin," she said, attempting to reach out to gently wrap her fingers around my wrist.
• My racing thoughts were slowed by her touch. They were all focused on her. She anchored me. The sun shone brightly in the sky. The trees were lush and green. The traffic continued to flow.
• "My family isn't respectable, Bella. You don't believe any of us. None of us can be trusted. All of us are creeps."
• "Are you like them? I don't believe it." She looked at me as if she wanted to look inside of me.
• I shook my head. "I'm making an effort not to be. I don't want to be like him," I said, turning my hand to hold hers. "Would you please do me a favor, Bella If you've ever seen my father approaching, turn around."
• Her brow furrowed. "What makes you think I'll ever see your father again? I'm just a coffee shop barista."
• I rolled my neck to let out the rage that was building up in my spine.
• "He did think you are hot," I said, my teeth clenched. "And he's the type of person that believes that if he would want something, he should be able to get it. And he'll go to any length to get it."
• A long black limo passed us by. We both stood there watching it go by. "And there he is. You can bet he's noticed my interest in you, which makes him even more likely to pursue you. Dammit.”
• She stepped back. “Wait. You're really trying to warn me off your father because you believe he'll...ask me out? ”.
• I witnessed the limo drive away, knowing my father was seething with rage and actively planning behind the black glass.
• "You're exactly his type."
• I returned my attention to her after she made a snarky noise. "I'm sorry for him. Since he's not my type." She drew me down with our linked hands so she could connect with me. "You are," she said, kissing my cheek.
• My day had improved in an instant.
• She had to go back to work, and I had to go back to work, but I left her on the street and walked back to the café, humming all the way. Then I decided to walk back to the clinic, her song in my heart. I kept thinking about her all day. It was difficult to focus on my patients, and then she called me that night, as I was trying to settle into my couch with a carton of kung pao chicken and a show on TV.
• "How are you, Martin?"
• Her voice was small and unsure. I was seriously concerned, as if I wasn't waiting for her call. As if I wasn't going to give her anything she desired. "I never do this...like, ever."
• “Oh?" I inquired. "Are we going to do what you never do? Because I really like what you didn't do the last time. I really enjoyed it."
• Even over the phone, I could tell she was having a good time. She was the real deal.
• "Martin," she said warmly. "I enjoy your company. Yes, indeed. I never call men. I don't ever ask them out on dates. But that's exactly what I'm doing. I'm going to ask you out. Is it okay if I see you again? ”
• "Good," I said. Conclusively.
• "I—what? That isn't a correct response to my question."
• “Good. I don't really want you to go out with anyone else. I would like it to be just the two of us, Bella. It's a good thing you don't do this. Because I really like you would really like to see you again. Quite a bit."
• “Wait. You'd like it a so much, or you'd like seeing me a lot...like, a lot of times."
• “Yes.”
• "Martin," she said, her voice bright with a smile. I was hoping to see this on her lips.
• "Do you mind if I meet you for coffee tomorrow?" ”
• "I'd be delighted."