Chapter 27: After the Rain

Oh my God...

I was still frozen in the spot, devastated at how sincere my snickering turned out to be. For once, Ezra's face wasn't turning red from anger. Instead, it was due to him attempting to hold his attention without laughing directly in my face.

Dropping his head, with a smile, he scratched his ear with one finger. "Are... are you alright?"

My shame-spiral continued, though I tried to pretend it never happened. "I uh... why wouldn't I be?"

Ezra's brows were high, and I could still see him quietly laughing to himself before he looked back to me and shook his head to dismiss his question. I frowned, in an attempt to make him feel a little guilt for laughing at a completely laugh-worthy event.

Ezra was still grinning when he abruptly informed the members of his board that he needed to dismiss himself from the phone call. Without hesitation, he let them know that email was the best form of contact for the rest of the day, and the call was dead at the press of a button.

"It was just that funny that you had to get off the phone?" I grumbled.

He confessed with a grand smile, "I couldn't concentrate any longer..."

"Oh, ha... ha. I'm surprised you have any humor," I pouted.

My eyes narrowed, as I could tell he was still picking at me when he admitted, "I laugh at many things, Ada. I'm not a robot."

"Yeah, okay!" I childishly returned with an appropriately petulant crossing of the arms.

"Petit cochonne," he snickered.

My eyes opened wide and I squawked, "Hey!"

He held a nervous grin, and I scoffed, "Yeah... I understood that."

"Ah, yes. You did note that you know a little French on your résumé," he remembered with a laugh, and it was hard not to notice his accented inflections.

"Oui," I returned with faux anger.

Ezra was looking away, "Okay... petit–"

"Don't you dare!" I laughed with surprise, and pointed. "If you're going to make fun of me, at least pick a different animal than a piglet."

Though they are so cute!

"What other animal snorts like that?" he teased before executing a series of little snorts.

Without embarrassing myself this time, I cackled, "Rude!"

I could feel my face warming up, and my stomach hurt a little from the hard laughter. Ezra's arm was slung against the back of his couch, and he slumped into the most relaxed pose I had ever seen. It was my mistake to try and relieve myself of the giggles because Ezra became a piglet once more.

I couldn't believe that Ezra was actually... playful. It was weird that he was discrediting my theory of him being uptight most of the time, and I wasn't sure how I felt about this sudden unraveling of character.

"Okay, okay." He waved his hands in surrender. "No animals. I will just have to think of a sweeter name then..."

...whoa.

Our typical third wheel, silence, was back in the room. I wasn't sure where to go from there, especially not in his swanky apartment.

Though, seconds later, Ezra was kind enough to dismiss our mutual friend. "Ada, I really can't thank you enough for traveling in this storm to come help me."

"Oh it's no problem, Mr. Leoné," I returned with a big smile.

Suddenly, Ezra's eyes fell down to his lap before he placed his hands on his knees and took a stand. The look of success and joy had left him, and I was a little afraid of what that meant.

His head turned in my direction but his attention was on my patterned socks, "Ada... under these circumstances, I think it's perfectly fine to call me by my first name."

I turned my head away and scratched behind my neck. Sure, it was fine to call him that, but I was finding it hard to actually do it... under these circumstances.

Checking the time on my phone, the implication that it was time for me to go was merely seconds from spewing from my mouth when Ezra noted, "You shouldn't travel anymore in this weather."

The storm was still in full swing, and he was right. But I was praying for the clouds to miraculously part and for the sun to crack through.

"I shouldn't overstay my welcome though," I hinted, showing all of my teeth.

To my disadvantage, thunder clapped at the right time to make my case harder to fight.

Ezra slipped one hand in his pocket and gestured with the other, "So, I should throw the woman, who never carries an umbrella on her person, out into the storm?"

Damn my negligence!

I had to keep combatting his facts with overcompensating enthusiasm, "Uh... I guess that's what I get for being so forgetful!"

A quick sigh of frustration left him before divulging, "Ada, I know that we had an agreement to keep things completely professional... but I can't imagine not being able to convince you not to go out there."

My smile to faded into half a grin, when I scoffed, "You don't have to care that much."

Ezra brows met with confusion."But I do... Ada."

He turned away to begin his return to his kitchen counter. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I let you do that."

After the silence that immediately followed, I looked up to find that Ezra caught me previously hanging my head low. My arms were still crossed; I didn't have the energy to hide or mask my feelings this time.

His attention was unwavering, and the only thing I could do was take in a deep breath.

There was an uncomfortable smile on my face as I reassured him, "That's very thoughtful... Ezra."

I'm losing this battle.

He began packing my computer and adapter away, when he carefully asked, "Are you hungry, Ada?"

Why, why, why is this happening now?

I could feel my eyes watering, but I smiled, "Actually, yes."

Ezra was still, watching me in my discomfort that had nothing to do with the fact that I was in his apartment or with him.

"May I use the restroom?" I politely asked, though it was more of a plead.

He didn't hesitate to move his feet and show me the way to the nearby half bath.

"Thanks," I whimpered.

Seconds after the door closed, I tugged at the soft toilet paper and quietly blew my nose. This was one of those times where I couldn't stand myself. I was seconds away from having a meltdown in front of Ezra for a reason I wouldn't have been able to explain. Or even if I did, it would have made no sense to him. 

I pulled out my phone from my pocket and saw another text from Andre. This no-regret-no-pettiness mantra was getting to me– someone who is supposedly so passionate about communicating.

Why do you care so much all of a sudden?

I still hadn't responded to Andre like I thought I would have. There was space that I needed from him, and for once I thought my actions would be enough to let him know that. Though, it was hard to stick to my guns when he texted that he promised to keep trying to contact me until he knew I was okay. It sounded like the old Andre, and it hurt. 

"Ada, are you alright?" Ezra asked from the other side .

I quickly threw away the tissue in the small trash bin and quickly tried to divert.

Shoving my hand under the automatic soap dispenser, I returned, "Oh yeah, I was just smelling the soap. It's really nice. What scent is it?"

"Scentless, Dial soap?" he murmured.

Goddamit.

I viciously rinsed and dried my hands before opening the door again.

Ezra had been leaning against the frame before I startled him.

He slowly stepped back and whispered, "Are you okay?"

I was trigger happy with the finger guns. "I'm all good. No need to worry."

Lying wasn't my forte, and Ezra didn't have to work too hard to see right through me– not when my body found a way to contradict what I was saying every time.

The evidence was resting along my chin, and I didn't stop Ezra's soft thumb from running against my jaw to wipe it away. The stray tear was just a compliment to my reddened eyes.

"Is it because of me?" he asked, pulling his hand back.

Ezra's eyes were not going to stray. They were filled with an innocence so daring. They wanted to know the truth.

The strength of my lie was waning, and it was to keep fading if I didn't turn my eyes away. So when I did, I was able to shake my head and profess, "No. I promise, it's nothing. I'm just weird."

He didn't have to say that he knew I wasn't being honest. The loosely balled hands at his sides were enough.

*

My elbow was on the granite top and the lower half of my face was smashed into my palm. I was sitting on a stool at the counter, watching him remove ingredients from his refrigerator and pantry. I wanted to believe that he was moving around his own space as though I wasn't there, but the fear of being under a watchful eye was apparent in his stiff, robotic movements.

We hadn't said a word after he quietly insisted I sit down at the counter. It wasn't clear if Ezra or Mr. Leoné was with me. But I was so sick of trying to figure out if I was living my version of a Stevenson tale. I already had a dose of the old Andre, but seeing the old Ezra Leoné felt just as crippling. Instinct was telling me to run, but there was no way for me to escape without causing a whirlwind of confusion for us again. If I didn't want things to be complicated, I just had to pretend they weren't.

However, there wasn't much faking to be done when an inevitable smirk took over my mouth. And it wouldn't go away even when Ezra saw me spot the ingredients to the makings of a salad on the counter. His icy bearing appeared to thaw a little at the sight of my own.

I was sick of regarding the silence, so I tried, "May I help?"

"You're my guest, Ada," he grumbled back.

His reserved nature was returning, but I acted quickly and playfully frowned. "Is that a no?"

He briefly looked to me before turning away, avoiding my puppy eyes. I began to whimper, and there it was– an enormous grin overtaking his face.

I could guess the next words about to come out from his mouth, yet I couldn't let him get them out. "Uh uh, no animal names, remember?"

He sighed in defeat, but I took advantage of the moment and said, "But if I had to choose one for you. You'd be un lapin (a rabbit)."

If I had blinked at that moment, I might have missed the fleeting brow flash and attention shift to my mouth. I watched his tongue lightly mark his lower lip before he turned back to the ingredients with cheeks tightened from another smile.

"A rabbit, eh?" he asked, full French accent on.

"Oui, oui, monsieur!" I giggled. "You love them salads."

He kept the heavy accent as he teased, "Salad is good for you, but that shall only be the precursor to the fine dining in the Chateau Leoné. I've heard that the chef at the chateau is a um... how do the Americans call... awesome?"

I couldn't stop bouncing in my stool and giggling at the Food Network comedy segment happening before my eyes.

There was a cherry tomato on a fork swaying in front of my mouth. I took the bite and Ezra prompted, "Good, no? Oui, no? Oui?"

"I really can't with you right now," I laughed.

Damn, wait a minute. I could have swore these used to be disgusting.

The lemon pepper chicken, rice, and the cherry tomato salad were superb and I refused to admit to Ezra that I enjoyed the food when he kept asking. Though, he already knew considering I was tearing up my plates before cleared both of them.

Ezra's elbow lightly tapped my arm, "You going to admit I can cook now?"

"Nope," I proudly fibbed before using my pinky to aid my tongue as picked at my teeth.

"Rude," he mimicked, which forced me to glare at him.

I had to stop myself from being too childish and sticking my tongue at him, but he wasn't holding back any restraints when he snorted at me again. My smile was showing through pursed lips as I tried not to react.

He did it again, and I alluded, "If I'm piglet, that makes your food slop."

Ezra's sudden frown was obviously insincere, but I mimicked the little farm animal again to make him laugh. It worked, for the both of us. I had to tell myself to stop watching him as though he were some mythical creature, yet it was hard to tear away from his dissolves into laughter when this had been hiding underneath all of what I knew of him before.

"This is why I apologized," he cut in through our amusement.

There was still a grin on his face, though mine faltered before I questioned, "What do you mean?"

"I enjoy this side of you instead," he assured.

Looking down to my empty plates, I wondered, "This side?"

His voice dropped into an undertone. "The not-angry-with-me side."

There wasn't a shred of confidence in my shrug. "I figured it wouldn't matter too much, seeing as to how you're still my boss at the end of the day."

He paused before asking, "How could it not?"

I tilted my head to him and hoped that my soft smile would lessen his frigid stare. "Well, I get that today's circumstances are different, and thank you for allowing me to help, the hospitality, and for the food... but–"

"I like you, Ada. I always have since day one. You're a very smart person and I can see you in the long run at my business." Ezra cut me off.

"Is that all?" I quietly asked.

His eyes were removed from me. There were words hanging from the edge of his lips, and I was sure they weren't the supposed to be what I heard next. "Yes... I meant it when I said you were a valuable asset."

Ezra was suddenly unreadable, and I had to deny my own instincts to instigate. Although, I couldn't ignore that I had to remind him, "Ezra, you're my landlord too..."

He took in a deep breath and intoned, "Yes, a hasty decision, but there are no regrets, nonetheless."

My own desperation wouldn't let another second pass by, "Why was it a hasty decision?"

But what I wish I had asked was why that was the question that removed him from his stool.

Our plates were in his hands, and I called to him again, though he went about his way to cleanup.

"Ezra," I tried more sternly.

He closed his eyes and didn't waste time to sidetrack, "What happened with your roommate?"

I was quiet again. I didn't want to answer the question. It wasn't until he opened his eyes to me again that I knew that he knew I wouldn't. Our unanswered questions were suddenly fair game, and the green-eyed strategist was going to use it against me.

You know I won't share anything personal. I can't.

The best way for Ezra and I to have our peace was to make sure we didn't share too much. If we said what was really on our minds it might just cut too deep for the both of us. I didn't know him, but I knew that look. There was no forcing someone to do something I didn't know how to do myself.

Without hiding the defeat in my inflection, I insisted, "At least let me help clean up."

*

Though we let the quiet take over the rest of my visit, it was only bothersome as the rain had settled down as we cleaned. Ezra could hardly look at me when I was beside him in the kitchen, but he did when I murmured that I should go.

I followed him to the door, squeezing my fingers as I nervously watched him remove my parka and boots from the small closet. The feeling in the pit of my stomach was already making me feel uneasy, and it got worse when Ezra slung my coat over his arm and knelt down in front of me– my first galosh angled in front of my right leg. His shoulder was my support as I was assisted with my footwear.

I shouldn't have been so surprised when he made sure my parka was snug and my backpack was secured on my back. I was sure I had everything I came with, but Ezra was back in the closet. My lips parted in surprise at the very large black umbrella was in his hand.

Still in disbelief, I began, "I can't–"

"Keep it," he faintly insisted, staring at what was gripped tight in his hand.

This is the second one.

Seconds later, both of Ezra's hands were in his pockets, while mine were gripping tight onto the last minute gift.

I was only happy my voice was shaking as my hands would have been had I not been holding onto something. "Well, thank you again for–

"No, thank you for coming over and helping me, Ada," he softly interjected again. Ezra's distance was challenging me in a way that I couldn't say was unfamiliar to me anymore.

Look at me.

I caught his attention the only way I knew how. "You're welcome, Mr. Leoné."

Ezra was flustered, and we both knew why. When I was to step out of that door, that was the only appropriate name that would keep things fitted together.

"Let me see you out to the lobby," he whispered, but the smile I wanted to show refused to emerge.

Ezra extended his hand for the door, but he was forced to suspend all movement the moment he felt my lips press to his cheek.

The hand that was for the door had curled around my shoulder and continued to hold tight when I drew my mouth away.

Do I regret this?

It was hard to when I was pressed close to his chest. My arms linked around him to hold him tight. My temple rested against the warm crook of his neck, and my mind wouldn't allow for any hard thinking– not when I was so comfortable.

"Let me call the car to take you home," he whispered.

I could feel his voice reverberating in his chest, and I closed my eyes basking in the familiar layer of warmth.

Slowly, I shook my head and he asked, "Are you sure?"

My answer was equally lazy, "Don't worry, I've got it."

I felt his fingers curling tighter, and I let mine do the same into the soft fabric of his shirt.

Really... I just got it.