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ESMERALDA FISHER WAS TIRED. Another sleepless night meant that she was late for work and, with a pounding headache, she was less than excited for the long day ahead.

She mouthed a sorry to her boss, who simply shook his head as he eyed her frantic movements. This was not unusual, but he rarely complained given that it was just after 8am and a restaurant such as theirs hardly had an abundance of customers at this time.

She sauntered over to the bar, propping herself up on her elbows for a moment to catch her breath. She kissed her teeth, palm to her forehead as she cursed herself for the thudding in her skull. Sighing, she poured herself a glass of water.

"You showed up then, Es," the voice of her co-worker Tom teased, his head poking out from the staff room as Esmeralda rolled her eyes, "40 minutes is a record, even for you."

Esme flipped him off, scoffing as he sauntered to her side with a smirk on his face, "Yeah, like I was missed, Tommy. How many customers have we had so far eh?"

Tom laughed, hands idly tidying the bar area as he spoke, "...One."

"Exactly!"

"Yeah, well, I've been bored without my partner in crime," he joked, brushing his hair out of his face, "But the one customer has been here a while. Holed up in the corner, nose in a book. He's hot, though."

Esmeralda scoffed at the smirk growing wider on Tom's face, "Of course you'd think so."

"Hey! I'm just trying to get you laid. Would be nice to see you meet someone so that your life revolved around something other than your chess books," Tom retorted, "Go over there and see if he needs anything. Haven't given him a coffee in a while."

Esmeralda drew in a deep breath, glancing in the direction she saw her colleague looking. Sure enough, there was a man sat alone in a booth at the very back of the restaurant. There was an empty plate in front of him and two coffee cups.

Between his thin fingers was a book and a cowboy hat of sorts sat atop his head, hiding his face as his head was tilted down. She recognised the hat, momentarily unsure why.

"Fine."

Tying her apron around her waist and collecting a notepad from Tom's hands, she adjusted her hair and began sauntering in the mysterious lone wolf's direction, ignoring the way Tom eyed her mockingly.

"Another coffee?" she asked, hand on hip as she forced her best fake smile. The man looked up, and Esmeralda lost her breath for a moment. Tom was right, he was gorgeous. But she knew who he was, and for that she cursed herself.

Benny Watts. US chess champion. And egotistical ass, from what she had gathered.

He nudged his hat out of his eyes, slipping his bookmark into place and closing the book as though expecting Esme to remain in his company.

He glanced down at the menu before him, furrowing his brows as though in thought, although he was planning to order the exact same drink he'd had all morning. Esme noticed the book, now, and drew in a sharp, almost painful breath as she saw her name on the cover.

"Yes please darlin'," Esmeralda fought back butterflies at the term of endearment, "Just black, please. And some sugars."

Esmeralda nodded, scribbling it down though she obviously didn't need to. She was desperate to leave the table now to avoid any potential further conversation with him.

It was then that the man tilted his head to the side, his brain processing why the young woman's face was so familiar. His eyes flitted back to the book, which he opened to the back page and saw Esmeralda's face, clear as day.

"Esmeralda Fisher," his tone rested somewhere between bewilderment and excitement as his eyes twinkled up at her, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm—."

"Benny Watts."

Benny looked taken aback, but a slight smug grin briefly swept across his face, "You know who I am?"

Esmeralda rolled her eyes, "You're US champion," she deadpanned, "Look, your coffee will be right over. Enjoy your book."

She wasn't sure where the sudden confidence came from, but she tossed her hair over her shoulder and swayed towards the kitchen, where Tom stood wiggling his eyebrows and pretending to clean glasses.

"So? Gorgeous right!"

"He's the US chess champion, Tommy," she groaned, "And he knew who I was."

Tom huffed, "Can't get away from chess for five minutes, can you?"

"Apparently not. Will you take his coffee over, please?" she pleaded with her best puppy dog eyes, not wanting to go back over.

"No can do," Tom chuckled, "You served him, and Ivan wants me to help in the kitchen while we're quiet."

"Fuck's sake. Fine."

Esmeralda prepared Benny's coffee silently, skull still aching and her stomach beginning to rumble. She'd not had breakfast, and made a mental note to grab some cake when she was done serving him.

Reluctantly, she carried the coffee over to where Benny sat. To her dismay, she noticed that he'd not picked up his book since she had left and was instead watching her every move.

"Your coffee," she nudged it towards him, "Anything else?"

He pondered her question for a moment, trying to find an excuse to keep her coming back to his table.

Void of any good ideas, he glanced around the room to see not a single other person.

"You could sit? Y'know... just for a few minutes."

Esme shook her head, "I can't. Boss will go crazy, probably." she mumbled the last word, knowing he absolutely wouldn't care, especially when it was this quiet.

"Please? Not for long," he pouted, and Esmeralda couldn't help but laugh, "Why?"

"It's not every day you meet the daughter of the greatest chess player to ever live," he said matter-of-factly, still in awe that he was talking to her.

"That's where this conversation ends, then. Enjoy your coffee, Benny."

She turned to walk away, but his hand caught her forearm as she did so, his ring cool against her wrist, "We don't have to talk about chess? Sit, please. Just a minute."

Again Esmeralda rolled her eyes, swivelling around to face him again. She slid into the booth, just opposite him, and rested her chin in her palms.

Benny smiled, happy to have gotten his way.

"I can't believe I'm talking to you," Esmeralda laughed inwardly at herself, as she was always so desperate to avoid talking to people who only cared for her as this 'chess enigma' she was perceived to be.

"I can't believe I'm talking to you," Benny emphasised, eyes widening. He seemed to realise he was being overbearingly admiring and sat back a little, slouching back against the seat as if to regain the apathetic demeanour he'd possessed before she came over.

Esmeralda shook her head, "No, I mean I don't like talking to people like you."

"People like me?" his brow quirked up.

"People who only view me as my father's daughter. People who only want to talk to me about chess. People who look at me like I'm anything more than a little girl who looked up to her dad enough to take interest in what he did. Y'know?" her face fell as she realised just how uncharacteristically open she was being.

Something about the way he looked at her made her feel that she could, even though she knew he only cared at a surface level. Besides, she was hungover and couldn't really process her words as well as completely sober Esmeralda would.

Benny frowned, "Nobody just sees you as a Fisher, Esmeralda. I mean, you know so much--"

"Like I said... I don't want to talk about chess, Benny," she whispered, defeated knowing that was all she was going to get from the conversation, "I'd better get back to the kitchen."

She pressed her palm against the table to push herself up from the seat again, but Benny covered her hand with his. She'd be lying if she said this action didn't send shivers up her spine, but she shook it off. She was nervous, uncomfortable, on edge. That was why.

"I'm sorry. I'm not good at not talking about chess," Benny reasoned, "Even with a pretty girl like you."

Esmeralda tried to suppress the blush creeping to her cheeks. Moments like this, she cursed her fiery hair for her pale features.

"I'm not trying to be an asshole, really," he sighed, "Look you can go back if you want, I'm sorry."

Did he get it, really? Everything she'd seen of him made him seem arrogant and self-important. But right now he seemed sincere, all soft eyes and a warm smile.

She was strangely comforted by the way he was looking at her. Not with pity, not with the idolising stare he'd previously held, but with a genuine interest in the woman before him, "It was nice meetin' you anyway, darlin'."

She smiled down at her feet awkwardly, internally mad at herself for feeling like an excited school girl being hit on by her crush. He was gorgeous, sure. But she was never like this, not for anyone, but especially not for egotistical chess players. Not for chess players full-stop.

She reached her left hand out, pulling his copy of her book towards her. Perplexed, Benny finally realised his hand was still atop her other one, so he pulled it back. She reached into her apron, pulling out the pen she used to jot down orders.

"I'll sign this for you," she smiled, worrying that she'd been too curt with him, "Might as well, you've got it with you. And sorry for being a bit of an ass... hangover. And in case you can't tell I'm not great with people. Especially about chess."

Benny wasn't used to talking about anything but chess, really. Normally he couldn't care less about a conversation if it didn't revolve around chess. But Esme caught his interest, and for once it seemed to be more than just her roots in chess, particularly as she was so reluctant to discuss the game.

"Oh right. Yeah, thanks," Benny replied, bemusement clear on his face at her change of tone, "If it's no trouble. It's fine by the way, I could tell from the fact you looked like you'd just walked through the gates of hell. And sorry, I guess chess is a touchy subject."

She gave him a pointed look, before softening her gaze again. The comment stung, but she didn't have the will to snap at him. He wasn't trying to be a dick, she hoped.

Biting her lip, Esmeralda flipped the book open to the title page, pondering over what to write. She paused after writing "To Benny," wondering whether to write what came to mind immediately. And yet, with a sudden surge of confidence, she did it.

Benny was confused by the length of whatever it was she was writing, silently trying to refrain from peering over to watch.

Snapping the book closed again, Esme stood up, sliding the book back in Benny's direction.

Leaving him utterly stunned, she turned on her heel immediately, striding back towards the kitchen with a newfound spring in her step as he opened up the book once more to find a note he most certainly had not expected.

'To Benny,
Sorry about today. Maybe we can talk another time, if you fancy taking a 'pretty girl' out for a drink on the one condition that we actually don't talk about chess. Here's my number, call me. ###########.' and then her signature.

Something about that note told Benny he would be seeing Esmeralda again very soon.

And he'd be sure to try his hardest to conjure up other topics of conversation besides chess to keep her talking to him.

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thanks for reading, i hope you
enjoyed the first chapter. i know
my characterisation of benny is
not perfect here but it's kinda on
purpose for now — just for their
first meeting.

let me know what you think :-)
—lou. x
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