Unfaithful: Web Of Betrayal

“Please … please … please…” Roman whined by the Urban Aesthetic entrance.

Olivia was worried her employees might see him, so she walked in the direction of the restaurant where she would have lunch.

“It’s just lunch, Olivia, I need company, and we have work to discuss … right?” he was following her like a lovesick puppy.

“God, Roman, you’re such a child …” she sighed.

“Oh, look, who’s talking? You’ve been refusing my lunch invitation for months … it’s not like we’re doing anything, just eating together. What’s the harm in that?”

She stopped at her feet to roll her eyes at him, “I didn’t refuse dinner and breakfast, did I?” She let out a long exhale, “You can’t keep doing this, Roman; people might think we’re …” she made a waving gesture with her hands.

“Working together?”

His blue eyes were bright under the sunlight. He had a point, they’re just eating together, and they’re work partners. There’s no reason for anyone to be suspecting anything. Olivia started walking again.

“You’re rejecting me because of our history together,” he walked beside her.

“Sssshhhh ….” she pushed him and covered his mouth. “Why did you have to say that?” her eyes widened.

He laughed, taking her hand off his mouth, “Sorry … but it’s true, right? I told you … I won’t touch you … unless you want me to.”

“Oh God,” she grunted; she was used to his flirtatious comment even though he didn’t admit he was doing any of it. “Fine, we’re almost there anyway, might as well have lunch together … you’re paying,” she patted his chest.

They walked into Olivia’s favorite Chinese restaurant a few blocks away from their buildings. The place was packed. She took the seat in the back corner where the owner had reserved a seat for their favorite customer.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

Roman raised his brows, “Wow … a reserved spot at Chow Mien at lunch hour? Pretty important customer.”

She laughed lightly. The waitress came to their table with a small notebook and a pen in her hands.

“Good afternoon, Miss Leighton. What can I get for you today?” she greeted her and smiled at Roman.

Roman’s eyes widened at Olivia.

“Shut up!” she threw a napkin at him before he could say anything.

He pressed his lips and held them until the waitress had done taking their orders. “I take it you always pay cash here?”

She laughed. She always used Adele Leighton as her name for the things she wanted to enjoy alone. It was the first time she ever eats there with someone else. “Now you know all my secrets.”

“Oh, do I?” he gave her a sharp look.

“Yeah … and you’ve invaded my favorite spot in Lancaster for lunch; I don’t come here with anyone.”

“Not with your fancy girlfriends?” he teased her.

“No … they only dine at fancy places … it’s so boring,” she smiled.

“This could be our secret place, then.”

“Pfft … no, … so … what do you want to talk about work?”

He put his elbow on the table and rested his face on his hand, “Absolutely nothing …” he laughed, “I just said that to get you to have lunch with me, admiring your beauty from across the table …”

“Urgh … I knew it,” she slapped his arm, “And I fell for it … again …”

He smiled, his eyes gently falling on her face, “I want to spend as much time as I can with you.”

She looked away, “You can’t do that … you know that …”

“Why?”

“Because …” She didn’t have to answer it.

“You being married is really not my problem,” he challenged her.

She scoffed, “It should.”

“You never gave me any other reason than that … and I say … I don’t care,” he reached out to touch her hand on the table.

She pulled her hand and hugged herself; he was right; she never gave him any other reason because she didn’t have one. She sat back and looked at him in silence. For a moment, their eyes locked.

“What?” he asked. “What are you thinking about?”

She shook her head lightly, “Nothing.” She was lying. She was thinking about how persistent this guy was and how long will she be able to hold him back if he kept doing what he was doing.

“Do you know what I’m thinking about?”

She laughed. It’s incredible how he could turn every sentence into a chance to flirt. “No, I don’t want to know.”

“No … I’m serious … why are you laughing?” he was laughing too.

“It’s probably something dirty I don’t wanna know about.”

He gasped and put his hands on his chest, “I’m hurt … that’s not entirely true …”

They burst out in a laugh.

“I do have dirty thoughts … and you don’t wanna know what they are …”

Their laughs subsided.

“But that’s not what I was going to say.”

She waited for the rest of his sentence.

“When I look at you … I think of how strong you are.”

She raised a brow.

“How strong you are holding onto your marriage … even though it goes against everything you want and how you feel … anyone should be so lucky to have you as their wife … especially Declan.”

She didn’t respond. Her smile faded. She didn’t know where he was going with that statement, but she felt like it wasn’t an appropriate thing to discuss.

“I wasn’t so strong when I met you,” she said in a solemn voice.

Their food came and interrupted the conversation. Olivia didn’t want to discuss it, so she changed the subject to food instead. One thing was sure. She always has a good laugh whenever she’s with Roman. He was funny and a teaser without being annoying. They have a lot in common, especially when it comes to food, and they would make great friends. The only problem was neither of them wanted to be friends.

She thought about what he said again when they were walking back to their workplace. She was disturbed by how he saw through her sometimes. She wanted to defend herself and tell him he was wrong; holding on to her marriage did not go against what she wanted. But her feelings for him made her think otherwise; maybe he was right. He knew that, and he was there waiting for her to make up her mind.

“So … what are you doing tonight?” Roman interrupted her thoughts.

“Oh … stop it,” she pushed him when they arrived in front of her studio, “Go back to where you belong,” she said lightly.

“No, I’m serious … we can go out drinking … it’s Friday, you should enjoy yourself, have fun, go dancing,” he tucked his hands in his pockets and waited for her response.

“I’m going home and drink at home like older people do,” she chuckled.

“Oh … come on, that’s so boring.”

She raised her brows, “It IS boring to be older … anyways, my husband will be waiting for me at home.”

It completely wiped out his grin, “Is he?”

She nodded, “It’s our night at home together,” she looked at him straight in the eyes.

He looked away, he thought about something for a moment, “Well … if he’s not home … we can have a drink somewhere.”

She waved at him and pushed the entrance door of her studio; she didn’t need to reply to his cheeky comment. She walked into her office and saw him lit up a cigarette before turning his back and walking across the street to his gallery.