Find Me Alastar(30)

I smile broadly and my eyes hold his. “He just text me, actually,” I reply.

He frowns. “What?’

I smile proudly and hold up the phone in my hot little hand. “Yep.”

He narrows his eyes. “What did he say?”

I smile bashfully. “Nothing. Not really.” Why did I just tell him that? I sounded like a gloating five-year-old.

“Tell me.” He smiles into his glass.

Oh God. “I just text him and he replied. Nothing exciting.”

“You text each other?” He raises an eyebrow in question.

Hank comes back over and interrupts us. “Okay, we are going to dance in a minute.” He stammers.”

“Great news.” Brielle smiles.

Hank shakes his head. “No, it’s not great. Have you seen me dance?”

Our faces drop. Oh shit, we didn’t think of that.

Thomas sees something over my shoulder and waves. “I will catch you guys later.”

“See you.” I smile and he disappears through the crowd.

Night made. Alastar showed his brother who I am.



* * *



It’s Thursday and I sit at my desk as I stare into space and get my things ready for lunch. Every night, for a week, I have text Alastar goodnight and every night, for a week, he has replied. I do wonder if I didn’t text him first would he have ever text me? I doubt it, to be honest. The longer I sit on this, the longer I feel that maybe this attraction is all in my head. I mean, if he was really keen, wouldn’t he be ringing me and asking to see me? I have decided I am not texting him tonight. I want to see if he is going to text me without prompting.

Why am I obsessing over this stupid guy? Ugh, I hate this. I pinch the bridge of my nose as I try to steer my thoughts away from the Irish god.

Get out of my head.

I pack my notepad and pencil into my bag and head to the park, my favorite new lunch spot. This story that has come to me is giving me hours of entertainment and I am actually starting to believe that maybe I could give this author gig a go. I have named my characters Henry and Elizabeth. I had to give them names, and although these are not the most romantic, I kind of like them. You never know what could happen down the track and it is keeping my mind occupied while Brielle and the others all study and work. I seem to have gotten creative since I moved here and have even bought a drawing pad and pencils so I can sketch random things. I don’t know why. I’ve never done anything like this before, but I figure that maybe now I am not under the restrictions of what is expected from me, I can experiment as much as I want.

I spread out my blanket and packed lunch before I sit down and let my imagination run wild.



* * *



She carries the tray carefully to the stable. She’s smiling proudly as she approaches the young man brushing the horses. Her families stable hand, Henry, his name is Henry, and he is the most beautiful man she has ever laid eyes on.

She continues nervously with her tray, and as she approaches him, he turns toward her, his face dropping as he nods, unable to make eye contact.

“I…” She hesitates, unsure of what his reaction will be. She has never done anything like this before. “I brought you some morning tea.”

He frowns and looks down at the scones with jam, cream, and tea on the tray, and then he glances back up at her face. “That’s...” He frowns in question and his eyes dart around the stable to check nobody is around. “That’s very kind of you… but I cannot accept.”

She puts her hands on her hips in outrage. “Why not?” she demands.

He looks around nervously. ‘Keep your voice down. I will get into trouble,” he whispers.

Henry knows that her widowed father has a reputation for being a violent drunk.

His eyes hold hers but he does not speak.

“You don’t even know who I am, do you?” she asks, portraying her hurt.

He nods. ‘I know exactly who you are.”

“What is my name?” she asks with a sarcastic raised brow.

He smirks at her pushy demeanour. “Elizabeth.”

She smiles shyly, relieved that he does, in fact, know who she is.

She puts the tray down onto the hale bay and begins to place jam and cream onto a scone for him.

He looks around nervously again. What is she doing? He will be whipped if he gets caught talking to his employer’s daughter. Truth be known, Henry only stays working here to keep an eye on Elizabeth. She is basically held hostage in her own home as her father awaits a large dowry when he marries her off. His only child, her mother passed when she was young and she has mostly been raised by the governess and the house staff. Henry knows a lot more about her than she could ever realise.

“Do you mean to tell me that I have been baking for you all morning for nothing? She puts her hands on her hips in an outrage. You ungrateful man.”

He cannot hide his smile. “You baked these… for me?”

“Yes, I did.” She smirks and pretends to dust something from her dress. “The very least you can do is eat them.”

His gaze holds hers and he looks around again.

Elizabeth rolls her eyes. “Oh, for heavens sake. Nobody is going to see you. He’s not even home.”

He shakes his head. He has been dreaming of Elizabeth for far too long. This could be dangerous to his sanity.