Find Me Alastar(11)

The tall man takes out his wallet and slides his credit card across the counter. “I will take it, thanks.” He smiles.

I frown at him. He will take what?

“What did you want to take, dear?” The old lady asks him.

He gestures to me. “I will take the ring that she is wearing.”

My face drops. What?

“Excuse me? I-I haven’t even made up my mind if I want it yet,” I stammer in a fluster. Is he kidding? Is it international rude man day today?

His eyes roam across my face as if memorizing every inch of it. “I have been looking at this ring for weeks and I have just come back to get it,” he replies curtly.

I frown. Oh, the hide. “Well, I’m sorry, but I’m taking it,” I snap. I wasn’t going to but damn him, he’s not getting it now for being so rude. “It will look stupid on you, anyway.”

A trace of a smile crosses his face. “The ring is for my mother.”

I fake a smile. “You snooze, you lose.”

He glares at me.

I turn back to the old lady. “How much is it?” I ask her again as I shuffle around in my handbag for my wallet. Damn this fool for making me break my budget.

“Four hundred and twenty pounds,” The kind old lady reminds me.

“I will give you double that,” he interjects.

Is he kidding? “Excuse me, Mr. Rudeness. This ring is already sold. Go. Away.”

“I will not go away until I have my ring,” he snaps.

For the love of God, how did I think this guy was hot just a few minutes ago? He’s a damn pig.

“It’s not your ring. It’s my ring now.” I quickly hand over my card. Shit, I hope the old lady sells it to me and not to my outbidding counter buyer.

“Fifteen hundred pounds,” he interjects.

I cross my arms angrily in front of me. “Oh, you are really something, aren’t you?”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Like I said, I have wanted this for a long time.”

I screw up my face in annoyance. “Well, you should have bought it then. Back when you had the damn chance.”

He rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be sightseeing or something?” he mutters, annoyed. “Where are you from? New Zealand or somewhere?”

I narrow my eyes. “Australia, actually. You know, criminals and all,” I snap. “And besides, I am sightseeing with my boyfriend, actually.” My eyes flicker outside to the other rude pig sitting waiting for me. God, it goes from bad to worse around here.

He looks outside. “Where is this supposed boyfriend?” he sneers.

“None of your business.” I wrap my cardigan around me protectively. Go to Hell, *.

He walks to the window and peers outside. “Oh.” He smiles to himself. “Him?” He gestures to Mark sitting on the bench.

Oh, that’s it. “Yes. Him,” I reply, outraged.

“That’s your boyfriend?” He smirks. “Mark White is your boyfriend?”

Oh no, he knows him. “H-he could be,” I stammer as I feel myself go red. It’s even embarrassing calling Mark my boyfriend, heaven forbid if he actually was.

The old lady interrupts our impending fight. “I will need your details, dear, in case we get any more information on the ring.”

“Can I not persuade you to sell it to me, please?” he asks again.

“Yes, of course.” I reply to her, ignoring him as I hand over my license to the dear old lady. “Please, stop talking,” I eventually say as I turn to smile sweetly at him. “You are ruining my London experience.”

He raises an eyebrow and I know he is holding himself back from being sarcastic in front of the old lady. He shakes his head and places a white business card onto the counter and my eyes glance down at it. “Call me if you want to sell the ring. I will pay good money for it.”



* * *



STAR

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My eyes meet his and I bite my lip to hold back my smile. What kind of f*cking name is that? “Star? As in twinkle twinkle?” I smirk.

He shakes his head and puts his hands on his hips in frustration.

“Take your card back. I’m not ringing you, Mr. Twinkle Star.” I smirk as I take my ring and card from the lady.

I turn and start to walk out of the shop.

“Call me when you want to sell it,” he shouts after me.

“Don’t hold your breath,” I reply, and then I have a thought. “Actually, do hold your breath and do us all a favor.”

“Very funny,” he sneers.

“I thought so.” I smile as I open the heavy door. That felt good. What an *.





Alastar


I pull into the driveway of my terrace house and sip my coffee. I watch a family walk past in the rain through my rearview mirror and wait for them to pass. The only annoying thing with this antique sports car is the windscreen wiper speed. It’s either so slow it does nothing or so fast it nearly cracks the damn screen. Currently, it’s choosing the fast option, making it sound like the car is about to take off into flight at any given moment.

The family finally disappear out of sight, and I open the trunk to remove my large package which is wrapped in a woolen blanket before I make my way into the house. As I walk through the large, black glossed double doors I am reminded of just how much of a good thing photography has been to me. What started out as a teenage hobby now has me photographing international top models and designing editorial layouts for the most glamorous magazines in the world. My home is opulent, just like my life. The expansive floors are dark polished wood and my lounges are all chocolate leather. Artwork and bookcases line every wall.