Chapter 3

• You'd almost be forgiven for thinking that 'work issues' could stay neatly contained at work. But the world isn't so black and white, plus whatever power writes the script of reality has a seriously twisted sense of humor.
• That was the only explanation Ella could fathom as she strolled through the market, easily navigating with an arm full of bags, for encountering the main work issue of Clyde Stewart and his disturbingly astute gaze.
• She had been mid-way through her usual chipper banter, carefully adding the new items to her bags “No Frank today?” the elderly man asked cheerily. He was met with a brief chuckle from her, an endearingly gentle sound like a warm blanket “Not today. Work has been hectic, and he needs the rest - though he'll probably perk up the second he smells this. Seriously, you outdo yourself with every new batch.” she complimented with genuine warmth to her that Clyde had yet to see, noting how broad her accent was compared to within the hotel as the elderly man bashfully waved her away.
• “Surely a woman like you could perk him up - though the bread is a nice touch.” while his voice was smooth and light, it still had Ella focusing on keeping her breathing slow as he easily fell into stride with her. Without giving her much room to argue, he took advantage of a bottleneck in the crowd to scoop the bags from her arm into one hand, like some play to make sure she talked to him.
• “Whatever you're assuming, Mister Stewart, I'm fairly certain you've got it wrong.” just because she wasn't at work didn't mean she could talk without filter, one wrong step could still cost her an earful from the bosses. “We out in the world, just call me Clyde,” he reminded her, a hint of amusement lacing his next comment “Oh? Was assumin' from his territorial behavior that you two were a thing.”
• “All right then, Clyde,” she deliberately, almost sarcastically, drowned it in emphasis “No offense, but I don't see how that'd be any of your business, either way.” a heavy arm draping casually around her shoulders as they walked, Ella fighting her instinctive reflex to slap his hand away from where it rests over her far shoulder, thumb brushing the side of her neck.
• “Call it curiosity, it happens when you've been doing business at the same place for so long. You want to know what makes them tick.” his tone is deliberately light, thumb shifting to rub insistent circles in the tense muscle under it.
• The clatter of keys in her hand as they near a little car has him shifting slightly to walk at her back. Nearly crowding her as she opens the boot and reaches for the bags with a polite but detached 'Thanks' - instead, he sets them inside himself, reaching with next to no effort to briskly close the boot, not moving his keen gaze from her. “I imagine I'll be seeing you again soon, have a nice day, Ella.”
• It's not till she's sat in the driver's side, huffing in annoyance, that it hits. He called her by her first name. How in the hell did he find that out? Tamping down the flare of panic and anger as she drove home, she'd deal with that little issue at work, but she couldn't raise it yet without basically ensuring James would be an insufferable mother hen for goodness knows how long. He still maintained that while she had grown up in a 'rough area', the sort of people who frequented the hotel was another kind of dangerous altogether.
• * * *
• A couple of days later, a rare night off.
• “What's your trouble with Stewart?” Ella asked as nonchalantly as she could manage, leaning on the island as he cooked. It wasn't that she couldn't cook, but she found nowhere near the same joy in it as James did - much more content to tick off a list and lug ingredients back. If she hadn't been watching so carefully, she probably would have missed the way he stood up just a little straighter before responding without even glancing back at her “He's a regular client of the hotel - I just struggle to get a read on him, it makes me nervous.” he admitted simply, finally casting a glance at her over his shoulder “Why the sudden interest?” it wasn't accusatory but Ella could already hear the concern edging into his voice.
• “Ran into him at the market, the one near work with the bread you like...” she muttered, trying to keep her voice as if she was talking about something as mundane as the weather but he still turned slowly to lean on the counter facing her “He seemed interested in what we were, called me Ella. I don’t know, it feels like he sees so much...” while the comment about him knowing her name had made him briefly frown in worry, the final comment prompted a nod of understanding as he mumbled something about it being the lawyer in him, constantly observing.
• “Ella, are you all right?” he asked kindly, rounding the island to wrap his arms around her shoulders, letting her rest her head back against his chest - hence being able to feel her nod before she hummed, “I'm fine.”
• There was a dragging silence, punctuated only by the steady low simmer of the pot before James broke the silence after pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “He probably got your name from the day manager. What a prick,” he said so casually that Ella couldn't help the snort of laughter as her expression shifted to one of agreement, neither thinking that highly of the day manager and his bizarrely pompous attitude. Nor his superiority complex regarding the night crew.
• * * *
• It's another quiet week of shifts before James is seeking her out in the main bar with a sympathetic half-smile. “Again?” Ella almost whines, casting a glance back down at the bar knowing full well it would have to be heaving for him to justify a 'no'. It's met with a discrete nod as he escorts her through reception to the function room next to the restaurant. A reassuring hand on the small of her back as he speaks softly, “I'll be at the front desk, barring any major disruptions, and it's a formal meal so there's a duo of wait staff.”
• The fact it seemed to be more of a private event and less of some intimate gathering did well to soothe her, along with the comfort of working in a team. Normally, she didn't get rattled, but something about how familiar he was, had left her on edge.
• “At last,” Clyde speaks up from the head of the table as Ella steps away to move behind the bar. “Gents, you're in for a treat tonight. Especially the whiskey lovers among you.” he's so casually confident in his attitude, fixing James with a slow smile. “Thank you, Frank, that's all for now.” her friend gave a tight nod and a final glance to emphasize his reassurance from earlier. He returned to his usual post at the front desk, the doors closing behind him with an almost inRolls Royceble click.
• After a while, she almost relaxes, content to make small talk with those who approach for cocktails, apparently with zero self-doubts even if they're enjoying the brightest fruity drink she can make. It's nice - they're eager to share stories of holidays with their wives as she works, sometimes asking for recommendations if they were to stay there.
• As the night wears on and the atmosphere becomes jollier, she's soon part of what seems to be a game. The guests coming up with increasingly obscure cocktails to try and stump her - so far, she's yet to be caught out. Clyde seems to be watching with amusement, even when he's pulled into a conversation, she's uncomfortably aware of his gaze.
• Though not as aware of his presence, as it turns out when she realizes too late that it's him who has sidled up to the bar.
• “Workin' so hard and not even breakin' a sweat, quite impressive.” His small smile was unexpectedly endearing as he leans his forearms on the cool wood surface to get just that little bit closer.
• “Glass of Borough... and one for yourself.” his offer was met by the scripted reply that she can't due to this and that in the code of conduct. “Shame. You'll just have to join me for one when you're not working then.” The assumption that she doesn't get a say in it rubs her up the wrong way.
• A lot does about Clyde. He's not bad looking, he seems polite enough but the observing kicks in her fight or flight. The focused attention makes her nervous, jittery - but she can't be completely sure as to why.