His Addiction

Chapter 13

"Adam?" Bash received a call from his friend/business partner, who had been handling the part of the swimming in his club. "Can you tell me if all your associates will be available now? I can wait till their shift is over, but I want them in my office before seven."

Standing at the side of the road, Bash talked on his phone and gestured to Julian about how it went at the drugstore, at which Julian shrugged only. Shaking his head, he leaned on the pillar at his side and faced the street where the heiress had fled with her bike.

"You are in the city, Sebastian?" Adam sounded surprised. "Julian and I talked last morning, but he didn't tell me about your arrival. Anyway, I can send the six instructors on their shifts now. The session will end in a while, so. . . are you on your way here?"

"I arrived last evening." Bash said, "Send your instructors into my office at the end of their shifts. I have some paperwork to finish and checked on the manager and servers about the complaints I am getting from my guests. And what about those two Olympians?"

"There is only one Olympian here, the teen sensation. Emily took a day off today and doesn't work on Sundays. You have to wait till Monday. You know the work pressure. It wouldn't be a good idea to call her to come to the club today. She takes five to seven batches daily, excluding Saturdays." Bash frowned. It wasn't because he didn't like what Adam said, but that name... He knew that the girl trained the district-level players at his club from U14 to U17, but her name sounded oddly familiar to him. "The other girl was an ISL player preparing for the Olympics. I'll have my assistant leave their files in your cabin so you can check them yourself?"

"No problem, man. I will be here for a few days for my factory visits and wine tasting. Will you join us tomorrow, Adam? Don't worry. You and Julian don't have to pay." Bash joked as he wanted to keep his mind off the triggering moments of his life.

Bash lost everything that night. The fame he gained and the respect he earned in his seventeen years of an acting career. Three years was all it took to get back on his feet and gain popularity again, but he lost his connection with his old peer teams and agents.

They supported Madeline and her decision to marry someone else when they were against her and never hid their irritation from Bash at seeing his girlfriend on the set. He would have called them Madeline's good friends, but they weren't. They only wanted to take advantage of that situation, and he could only see how easily they destroyed him, sitting on his hospital bed. His family didn't want anyone to know what had happened to him. Bash couldn't blame his parents for not clearing things to the media, as they were clueless like him about how he ended up in the sea, then at the hospital, but his mother knew something. He sensed something off about Juliette, but his images of that naked woman in that suite, Madeline's marriage, and the probable end of his acting career crushed him. The depression and heartache would have killed him if it wasn't for his mother and Catherina annoying him endlessly by dragging him with them to their homes. The ladies were too scared to leave him alone, even though they hated each other's guts.

"The packages which come from Texas or you buy from auction, Julian and I check the packages before taking them to your club's storage. You even made us pay tips to your truck drivers, and now you think I will go with you for the wine tasting! Screw you!"

Returning to his car, Bash asked Julian, "How did it go with the store owner?"

"They looked like they were waiting for it." Julian shrugged and didn't explain further. "Who was the girl you were talking to?" He asked, helping Bash in the backseat, and then his gaze landed on the door of their passenger seat. "Christ! Who did this to your car?"

"What's wrong with my car?" Bash asked, frowning. Rolling down the window, he followed Julian's gaze, and his eyes darkened upon realizing why the girl looked in a hurry to leave then. But should he blame her for leaving scratches on his Mercedes?

"It was the latest model you bought from an auction for 120 million Euros, sir." Julian looked at his employer, alerted. He did a quick calculation in his mind and said, "It was that girl? She fled without paying for the damage she caused. Would you like me to bring you her information? I can send our man to her home if- wait! Did she attack you or something when I was in that store?"

"I told you to stay in your car." Julian seethed. "Couldn't you just wait for me for two more minutes?" It still gave him chills in what state Julian found Bash in a hospital the night after that cruise incident. It was a miracle that Bash made it out alive, and now this. Getting in the driver's seat, he glared hard at Bash. "I shouldn't have brought you with me. These people are anything but ordinary..."

"Calm down. It was nothing like that," Bash said in his soothing tone, seeing how worried Julian looked. "That girl. . ." Bash paused. His mind drifted to that girl on the cruise. He couldn't remember her face, but those eyes. . .those pair of hazel eyes looked just like hers, but he could be wrong. That eye color was common, but he couldn't shake away those thoughts. "She is the James Heiress."

Julian's hands tightened around the steering wheel. Driving still, he asked, "The girl on the bike, you mean?"

"Just information." Bash spat. "I only want to know about her whereabouts. No need to send goons in her place."

"Noted!" Julian bit back a smile and nodded firmly. "Did she take your class?" That girl. . .Julian would never forget how that fallen heiress tossed his employer away and showed no desire to see him again. It would be their fourth encounter, excluding that time that girl kicked Bash out of the elevator, and now look how easily she again got away after leaving holes in the passenger side door.

"Don't piss me off, Julian!"

Bash glared at his friend, who cleared his throat and drove off towards the Blueberry Clubhouse.

The James Heiress isn't good at all. First, she tried to educate him about how wrong he was about opening the door without checking if someone was coming and then fled after noticing the scratches her bike left on his car! Oh, Bash couldn't wait to get her information in his hands. When he got that, he would do many things to her. Pretending she didn't know him, huh? If that was what it was, she wouldn't have reacted strangely to their closeness and avoided looking at his face. For a grown-arse woman, she acted like a foolish kid. The entire road had security cameras installed. Did she believe it would be hard for him to hunt her down tonight?

That thought was enough to bring an evil smile to his face. Tilting his head, Bash looked at his bodyguard, "Julian?"

"Sir?"

"Bring me the address fast." There was a dark glint in his eyes. "She was hurt. I should check on her now, shouldn't I?" The look of mischief didn't go unnoticed by his bodyguard, but Julian still agreed and went back to his work after dropping Bash at the club.

~

Emily lay on her face, taking the whole bed for herself. Even her jaw was killing her to support her face on the pillow for the cut on her forehead. Even a fool knows what is good for him, but Emily. . .she was beyond that. Who rides a bike at that speed after falling from it? Those four paint buckets had weight, but still, she carried them on her back. Could she go to work on Wednesday even?

Birds were chirping outside like usual for biscuits. She could hear that, even though the windows were closed and the doors too, she could still smell the burnt bacon, toast, and beans in her kitchen. "Lord, Helen! The pancake batter was in the freezer!"

"It's done!" Helen's scream sounded from the other side. "Hold your horses."

"Yes! It's done." Her sister hollered. "Don't mind the smell. It's a glitch!"

"You heard her." Helen gushed, which made Emily shake her head, snorting. "Cherry Bomb, did you pack the books and copies already? The doctor's appointment is in one hour. Before that, hey, Millie? Is it okay with you if I drop her at my home?"

"That was the plan," Emily hummed.

It would be a hell of a job to fix her kitchen, but she could do nothing but accept this silently. At least the girls were trying to help. If only she had been a bit careful of her health and stopped at the side of the road when she felt that freezing sensation in her head.

But that man was at fault too. He could have waited for her to pass by his car, but...maybe he was lost in his thoughts then.

Emily was glad that he opened the door that way, or else she would have run into a truck or something. She was grateful to him for that, even if she found him weird. His eyes made her very uncomfortable, and she felt some familiarity in his gaze. It could be someone she offended once in the past or recently. It had to be because the man was glaring at her then and now. Getting away from him turned even harder. He made many excuses to stop her and talk to him. Fear crept into her heart when he came her way and asked for her number. And then her name. Maybe he wasn't that bad and only wanted to help her, but she couldn't just shake away that creepy feeling from her head.

"Breakfast is here!"

Opening her eyes, Emily looked over her shoulder and saw Helenite and her sister walking into her room with her white cat and Meowlee, her neighbor, Mrs. Piper's pet, on Cheryl's toes. "Mr. Hemilton brings his girlfriend to see you." The little girl grinned, placing a fruit bowl on the bedside table. "He was worried about you. I couldn't move him away from your door last night."

"Really?" Surprised, Emily looked down at the cats. "Thanks?" She thought her sister's pet hated her. The cat hissed at her or bit her whenever she tried to pet him or scolded Cheryl for messing with her kitchen and makeup kit or forgetting to water the plants.

Emily blushed, recalling her lying her name to that guy she met yesterday. She felt like dying how easily he asked if it was her cat's name she gave him, and he wasn't wrong at guessing it. Oh, his laughter behind her still rang in her ears when she fled after hurriedly hopping on her bike. Not that she could remember him as he was in a hoodie, black glasses, and his face mask was on, but if he drove that rare model car she bumped into, there was a chance that Emily would recognize him.

Then she realized something, and her head snapped at Cheryl, "That means you stayed up all night?"

"Well. . ." A faint blush crept into the little girl's face. She watched Helen leave the room to bring milk for them, and she sat beside her elder sister. Looking through her lashes, she said while showing her hands, "My hands are soft and tiny. It would hurt you with your back massage." Then her eyes shifted to the tray, and with a sour mood, she smacked her lips, "She uses too much force."

Emily bit back her giggle, seeing the condition of the tomatoes and beans on their plate. The toast looked too scrunchy and blackish, and the sausage and eggs were overcooked, but it was okay for today. Grinning at Cheryl, she teased. "But that's a glitch!"

"Oh, please. You say we should be nice to everyone. Dynamite is making an effort. I. . ." Cheryl flushed, huffing, "I am sorry for hurting you yesterday. The play was great, but my classmates. . .they said mean stuff about you. And I was mean to you."

"Don't hold it against anyone, okay? Someday, they will know their parents aren't wrong." Emily squeezed Cheryl's hand gently. "I am happy to see you are okay with today's breakfast. You will thank her for what she cooked. It was her first try."

"I will, Millie. Don't worry."

Emily's heart swelled, seeing the sincerity in her sister's eyes.

"What are you two talking about?" Helen asked, returning, and Emily saw Cheryl jump down from her place and run out of the room with her cats, yelling behind, "Uh- oh, I forgot to give the friends and birds breakfast. I'll bring the mixed fruit jam for the toast!"

"She was talking behind my back, huh?"

Helen helped Emily into the sitting position with a mattress around her.

"It's fine. We can eat them," Emily said softly. "But I still want to hear from you what you did with my kitchen?"

"I was trying to show Cheryl what it will be like if I marry you one day?" Helen smirked. "And your little sister decided she wouldn't let you marry someone who can't cook. She would add that to the list of requirements of her Millie Billie's perfect husband."

"Because Millie deserves a super husband!" Cheryl squealed from the kitchen.

Didn't she have one? Emily smiled. He gave her that hope. To be a father to Cheryl. She didn't let anyone get close to her at that time, even to Helen, but she let him because she trusted him that much with her sister she was raising even before she lost her parents.

Emily thought it wasn't for her, her happiness, and her family. She almost lost Cheryl to someone she knew nothing about. Because of her, Helen and her parents went through hell, but they stayed by her sister's side. She didn't know what wrong she had done to anyone. She wanted her loved one close and to live happily, reminiscing on good memories with her parents, but...it was okay.

Now, Emily had everything she ever needed. To give life to her sister with no toxicity around. But something was missing. A father for Cheryl, maybe. Emily never heard her mentioning it, but she was her blood. She could read those unsaid words in Cheryl's eyes.

~

The doctor's appointment went the way Emily predicted it to be. She was told to do complete bed rest for three days.

Something she couldn't afford, but she had no choice left in her hands. When Helen went to the market to buy a belt and medicine, Emily strolled around the nearest lake. Jason used to bring her here when they were dating secretly after their first-ever fake breakup. The place was away from the city where none of their family members could see them together. Especially his mother.

It would be near 11, and she found a vendor grilling meat in his van. She planned to make hotdogs today for Cheryl, but the accident messed it up. Slowly, she made her way there and asked, keeping her eyes on the giant hotdog on the counter, "How much is it?"

"There is the menu with the price tag."

The man behind the counter said that rather rudely, but Emily still apologized absentmindedly and read the menu board.

That woman was evil. A misunderstanding broke them apart. And before Emily could get a chance to find a clue to present her innocence, when his friend wasn't cooperating with her to tell Jason that she didn't cheat on Jason with him, Jason's mother complained to the authorities. Helen showed Emily Jason's record when she returned from Brazil. Her friend blamed Jason, telling her he wanted to hurt her, but Emily believed it was his mother's doing. A guy like him was rare. That woman did that might be after hearing from Jason that Emily didn't have Cheryl's birth certificate with her. And her grandfather wouldn't do anything to help her with Cheryl's custody because he had already told the whole world that the girl was an illegitimate child, not his granddaughter.

She would forgive them if they ever came to her doorstep, but she could never forgive them for messing with her sister. She could never return the time they lost and erase that pain from Cheryl's heart. And they should be scared of her for that. Or maybe there were. She would have been surprised if they weren't, not after the stunt she pulled in LA, which she never imagined herself doing.

Emily snapped out of her thoughts when the vendor cleared his throat. She felt his eyes on her all the time, and she pushed away the suspiciousness in her mind of the familiarity she heard in that. Pointing her finger to the showcase, Emily asked, "Is that tuna fry?"

"Not for cats."

The man said that harshly, pressing on that word, and Emily pressed her lips in a thin line, but she still didn't raise her head to see him. Tunas were the cat's favorite. She couldn't be the first person who annoyed this vendor with that question.

Emily sighed heavily. "Then three hotdogs, please."

Taking her wallet out of her jacket, just when she was about to leave the money on the counter, she froze when she heard him.

"Would you like me to show my sausage to you?"

What? Her head snapped up, and her hazel eyes met with a pair of green eyes, but she could tell he had his contact lens on. Clenching her jaw, she asked but kept her expression neutral, even after noticing how his eyes glinted mischievously, "Excuse me?"

"My customers." The man also had a neutral look, and spread his arms, indicatively on his counter, "They choose the items for them when I make them hotdogs." There wasn't anything unusual when he said that, but Emily still looked alert.

"Cut your sausage from the middle like a book and throw it on the grill," Emily said innocently, locking her gaze with his. The mischief in his eyes was gone, and his face paled slightly. "Butterflied. I want my hotdogs butterflied. Could you do that for me?"

"Nice. . .choice, ma'am."

His voice slightly wavered, but he was quick to flash a smile.

Emily fixed her sharp gaze on that man and said, watching his cooking method, "I was a cook once, you know. Not in any diner, but an exclusive hotel in countries like Brazil and Mexico. Everyone loved the fast food or starters I used to make." She hinted at something by saying that and enjoyed how his hands trembled as he took the inner message. He raised his head and looked away, seeing her eyes were still on him. A bed of sweat formed on his forehead, and Emily was pretty sure it wasn't for the flame of the grill that was making him sweat like that. She said softly. She smiled, but that didn't reach her eyes. "Make them crispier, please."

The man looked up and talked back to her. . .suggestively lowering his tone, "I can make them even juicer. . .if you want me to."

Her blood boiled in anger. "I want red gravy on one with extra chili flakes. . .if that's not too much to ask for."

She sighed inwardly when the man had nothing to resort to after what he said. With a clenched jaw, he began with his choppings, and the moment she was about to take the seat, she froze when she came face to face with someone she didn't expect to see in this park.

"Still have that weird food craving?" Her hands formed into fists when the woman said, "Can't help it being Latin blood, can you?"