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"Lila, I shall get the woman of my dreams. She doesn't know it yet but I am coming for her." He said, with a fervour which inspired me to appreciate uncertainty in life.
I smiled warmly at him. I admired his confidence. I wished I had an ounce of that confidence when it came to love. Alas, I did not believe in love. Even love for myself, however much I preached and desired it, was difficult to do.
"Do you wear a mask, Lila?" He asked me.
"I guess I also do then, but I mean well. My true emotions are like a yoyo so much so that I would not be able to live properly if I did not keep myself in check. In other words, I would scare people away without a mask." I said, wary of my current self, my true self and my ideal self.
My philosophical ideals had driven me insane.
It did not strike me then that we did not ask each other whether we put on masks for the other. I would have crumbled under that pressure. I did put on a mask when I was with him. I did not say what I felt, or felt what I did say. But I was trying to be as honest as I could with him. Maybe a partial mask, if that counted at all.
"Pray, why do you sigh, little one?" He asked.
The tone of his voice showed that he cared and that he was genuinely interested in my behaviour. I did not think that I was fit to be called a little one, being a grown woman at that, but it did sound nice to the ears. For the first time, I had consciously regarded him as a confidant.
"I think that I sometimes wear a mask, even to myself. I don't know who I am anymore, where I am going from here." I said, realizing that what I said was very personal and deep.
It was probably the most vulnerable bit of information about myself which I had ever shared with him so far. It gave him a window to my innermost world. I was aware of the barriers I had built around myself and that they came crumbling down in his presence. I was bitterly aware that the spirit which had been awoken allowed that. It was stronger than my resolve; tougher than my mind and it had a will of its own which was as unpredictable as Mr. Boardmann himself.
"Lila..." He uttered my name in a voice which trembled with an uncertainty.
His eyes had started to caress me if ever eyes could caress; his body; responded instinctively to my statement. As I gazed in wonder over those eyes which caressed, his arms had gone all over my back. He had hugged me with a tenderness unique only to him; that was which was his controlled raw strength supplanted by withheld emotions.
"I want to say that you provoke me too..." I said, unable to hide anymore.
The mask came tumbling down.
"...into feeling a lot of stuff." I continued, for a lack of a better way to explain myself because I had no explanation.
If I dwelled too deep, I could not categorize my feelings anymore.
He hugged me even tighter upon hearing this.
His head was in my messy hair, now covering my cheeks. I felt his warm breath against my skin. How had it tingled, how had it reacted to his touch...how had I felt!
My arms, as far as it could go, tightened up on his waist. I hugged him back with this raw strength I also realized I had in me. He must have unwittingly influenced my behaviour. This chemistry of feelings which we had was an unthinkable charge, and it was so strong that I could not hold back. I wondered if he could, or if he would.
How we had hugged like long lost lovers, except that we never were lost, never were found. We were just two people in an enclosed space, bidding our time till the plane landed. Then as strangers we would part amicably, finally awakened from this lovely dream.
I pulled away from our hug, suspecting in dread that it was not entirely platonic as I had wanted it to be. I did not mind him now as a good, old friend. That was the furthest that he could go for me.
I spoke now of the piano, of playing a song for his ear.
"I'll play a song if you'll sing to it. It's only fair." I said, turning to look at him.
He glowed like the sun. His face emanated its warmth in successive beams of glints in his eyes. His hair was unruly; his curls all tangled up like grass on a rainy day.
He smiled at me happily now.
"I have not sung for the past thirty years, not since my childhood anyway. I do hum tunes in my head though. Does humming count?" He asked, bending his neck a little; peering into my very complicated eyes.
Our eyes met briefly. Feeling impish, I shook my head. I gave him a quick peck on his cheeks before making a move to the settee at the corner of the room. I did not wait for his reaction. Immediately I felt shy but a little charged up. It was spontaneous and I wondered in amazement at my own impromptu actions.
"You little minx." He said, rising up from the piano bench, but before I could move further, he clutched at my arm.
This time however it was a half-hearted clutch. I was aware that that he possessed a strength far greater than that, and therefore I felt light. I looked into his eyes, hard as they were piercing mine.
"If you want to kiss me Lila, you have to do it right." He said, drawling out his words intentionally slow and languid.
Because he was not using that raw strength against me, strangely I naturally inched myself closer towards him. As he had remained seated where he was, his face was at the same level as my chest.
"Can a kiss ever be right or wrong?" I asked, feeling light-headed but in a good way, if there ever was a way to feel good about being confused.
A pang of uncertainty swept into me. I was being playful, no doubt about that, and he knew me well enough that I was.
"Remember what I said about kisses being symmetrical?" He asked, very laidback in that deep voice of his.
I could not reply to that. I felt absolutely like the little minx he called me.
Although I was not looking at him, I sensed a languidness in his mannerism, and of all things which I could sense, I felt his warmth, both emotionally and of his body. It was a good thing that I was standing up. I could only see the top of his unruly, curly hair. How I longed to straighten that up, for whatever reason.
"I don't believe that kisses have to be symmetrical. Where is the logic in that?" I asked.
Because I was in a state of rather self-induced intoxication, my hands were itching to do something. And I did just that. I played with his hair. I tried to straighten his soft clumps of curls with my fingers but unfortunately it had the opposite effect. The mane on this very overbearing male was all messier than it had been. My fingers were too flamboyant in their movement because the one which controlled them; the spirit, was having a blast of a time. Released just yesterday from the slumbers of her crypt, she hit town and painted everything red.
"Lila!" He said, barking out my name like a command.
But the tone of his voice was alright, really. Nothing which the spirit could not handle. I was not afraid, I felt good, and I do not know exactly why, but I might as well enjoy this moment to its fullest. It was like yesterday when I tried to push the pretend romantic moment till no further it could go. All moments like these were fleeting, so I sought to prolong moments which I did enjoy. Maybe not too long though for he was bound to get irritated with me when he reached his limit of patience.
"You better make up to me for messing up my hair too." He said, in as stern a voice he could muster, but I knew better that he was pretending.
He had let me play with his hair. He had not stopped me. I would think that he rather enjoyed it. Strange, stranger and stranger still. When I say this though, I refer to myself, and the way he reacted to me.
Then I bent down slightly on my knees and gave him a quick peck on his other cheek, after which I looked at him deeply into his eyes. I saw that the grey wolf was now in a very relaxed state, rather subdued and lazily present.
Now he made a conscious gesture to clutch both my arms but it was not at all controlling and devoid of all the raw strength of yesterday. His hold over me was light and extremely tender, that if there existed an alternate parallel universe, the Lila there would have simply melted into his arms. Scandalous thinking, I thought to myself. I had to stop it that instant before it becomes another one of my blurred fantasy memories. But I could not really. The spirit from within was in progress of a grand scale of plunder. That was how the more rational me would put it in words.
"Now you have me prisoner in your arms but I have given you your kisses. Why, Mr. Boardmann, that's not fair." I said, in this voice I could not categorize yet.
In an afterthought, it was a husky voice, and I never knew I could sound like that so well. I sounded sexy and I did not know if I liked it or otherwise.
"Escape from my clutches then." He said, in a very husky voice himself.
He enunciated his words deliberately slow, and I sensed he was trying to outmanoeuvre me. Our bantering duel was continuing from yesterday.
"Let go of your hands, Mr. Boardmann." I said, also trying out a commanding voice which I never had any use for previously.
I hope that I did the voice with gusto. I was not afraid to try it out. I guess now seemed to be the best moment.
"Why should I when you have made me look positively ridiculous, eh?" He said, in a voice which held only rigid acting.
In reality, he would make a terrible actor. I did not think that he would even make the cut for reality shows where one really did not have to possess any semblance of acting at all.
"Because if you had any sense of chivalry in you, you would." I said in return.
"And do you know what chivalry actually entails, Lila?" He asked.
"Being a gentleman, of course." I said, in one breath, fidgeting a little in his grasp, but in reality, I was really comfortable being held by him.
"The sum of the ideal qualifications of a knight include courtesy, generosity, valour and dexterity in arms." Said my Mr. Boardmann.
He was transformed into my Mr. Boardmann then. It was such a strange feeling to refer to him as such privately.
"The way I see it, you should knight up and help damsels in distress." I said, rather audaciously.
"Ah, but you see, Lila, you're hardly a damsel in distress in my grasp, are you?" He asked, with an intentional sly lilt in the tone of his voice.
I let out a slight hush unintentionally, and I knew that he was smiling, even though we were not facing each other.
I would not let him get the better of me.
"I should think that dexterity in arms meant good motor neuron skills, and yours are better suited to smooth out that unbelievably thick mane of hair on your head." I said.
"I see you have been studying and categorizing my hair into your standard mould. I am really flattered that you take such an interest in my hair." He said.
He sounded proud of his hair, or perhaps he was proud of the fact that I fancied his hair, of all parts of him which I could fancy.
"I was merely trying to distract you from clutching me, Mr. Boardmann. That's my escape plan." I said, indignantly and boldly, but it was getting difficult to keep up with the acting.
The lightness in me felt like soft, cushiony feathers floating about in glee. The slightest breeze could have provoked it, what more my Mr. Boardmann. It sounded strange again to my ears, but I was getting used to referring to him as my Mr. Boardmann.
"I had thought that you enjoyed being swooned up in my grasp. Is that right, Lila?" He asked.
Now though, he made an attempt to rise from the piano bench. Clutching my arms still, he rose majestically. He was so tall and lean. And he reeked out of that musky saturation; the scent before rain. I scented it so strongly in the living room, and I wondered if it were him or if the atmosphere outside was really reaching saturation point and that it could rain anytime soon.
As soon as he could look at me, he did, and he went straight for my eyes. I caught his pierce, they seemed undulating like the waves, mystifying me in a game only known to him.
My impishness gradually took a back seat. Colour rose to my cheeks. I blushed hard. There was not a chance that he would miss that. Immediately I felt shy, and as if on a planned route, my eyes gazed downwards at the marble floor.
"Little minx, are you going to deny me the pleasure of hearing that I am right?" He asked, in a softer voice now that he had gazed into my entirety.
The eyes were the window to the soul, and he saw my soul tonight. It was impish. It was light, it was really reckless.
I could feel the heat of his eyes looking at me.
"Women are always right, no matter what." I said, also softly, making a last stance of defiance towards him.
"Oh, Lila. You're so impetuous tonight." He said.
I could not agree more. Some semblance of rationalism crept back into me upon hearing his uttered words.
I raised my face towards his instinctively. My free will seemed no longer being controlled by me or the spirit within, but on autopilot mode. Our eyes met; they linked for a moment in time. I was amazed at the lushness of its endless depth.
"But I like that." He said, as if he was anticipating my thoughts.
His voice was low, his breathing appeared quickened. I felt a little nervous but I wanted to be this close to him.
"I am your little minx after all." I said softly, almost in a whisper, although it beats me as to why I needed to whisper.
And I certainly did not like being called a little minx anyway. It was unjustified and it sounded so immature. Furthermore, did I just say barely two hours ago that I was not his property? My philosophical stance was not sound. I needed to re-evaluate my values. I was really sensitive about linguistic terminologies.
He looked partly amused but mostly he was lost in his own thoughts. Then he looked at me, with a gentleness of passion and a turbulence of desire. I had never seen him look like that before. I could not look away.
"You will always be my little minx." He said, in a rather gruff voice, for lack of control.
I was astounded. Did he just topple me over in this banter of words, or was there more implied in his words?
He must have been aware that my so-called impetuousness was gradually losing hold of me. Sometimes I felt that he could read my emotions no matter how much I tried to cover it up.
The room was still as we stood in silence. I dared not move, dared not even make a single noise by shuffling my comfortable sneakers. Realization dawned into me, sending me a message that my feet felt restricted in movement now. My sneakers would have barely made a sound on the hard marble floor but I could not risk it. Everything was just so still; the sound of silence was actually deafening and strange.
I looked down now, feeling extremely shy. My usual, restrained persona took over. I felt that someone had to start speaking. But I was not sure if I desired being his one and only little minx. Perhaps I was thinking too much. It was all banter and nothing else. No seriousness here. So I decided to change the topic. Our banter turned duel of sorts was finally over.
"I apologize for the simple manner I look tonight." I said, feeling a lack of confidence suddenly.
He looked at me from head to toe.
"What's wrong with the way you look tonight? As always, you look good. It really doesn't matter what you wear or what you do with your face." He said.
"This is not what I normally look like when I am with a client. I normally dress up and get myself made up a lot more." I said.
He shrugged.
"I did notice that you are dressed down today, and that your make-up is minimal. Perhaps I am not fussy like your other clients. Do categorize me in your notebook as troubled and disturbed." He said.
I could not tell if he were serious, so I nodded hard.
"Do you prefer me to be like your other clients?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No. I prefer you to be the way you want to be when you are with me." I said.
He smiled and then added, "troubled and disturbed is it then."
"Nothing that I cannot handle." I said, a bit boldly.
Immediately I thought that it sounded pretentious, and I never wanted to sound like someone in authority. I was always a follower, and a free-willed follower by default.
"I'm sorry. I did not mean sound rude. Today has been out of sorts for me." I said.
"How so?" He asked.
"I woke up on the wrong side of bed, and from there, I guess I was cranky and irritable. But I do feel calmer now. I don't think my judgment is compromised." I said.
Well, perhaps it was also a bit too much of information. More than I would gladly give out in normal, non-cranky days. Later, I might just regret opening up to him like a sieve.
Since I was in his penthouse earlier, I thought it proper to offer drinks instead.
"Would you like something to drink?" I asked, playing hostess now.
"A creative concoction of red wine, with a generous dose of water mixed." He said.
Roles were reversed now.
"Seriously?" I asked.
"If you could drink it, why couldn't I?" He asked.
"Most people do not like diluted wine. Besides I have erratic taste buds." I said.
"So have I it would seem." He replied.
There was a twinkle in his eyes which I found irresistible.
He took the seat opposite mine. I gave him what he wanted whilst I had a glass of water.
"How did work go today?" I asked.
"Good. Because of the successful proposal, I would have to travel for a bit around here and also to our international offices. In two weeks I fly off to Thailand, from there down south to Malaysia and finally Singapore. I'm thinking of gradually closing down the Thai and Malaysian offices as profits are negligible there and everything can be managed from Singapore. The Singaporean branch has a more cosmopolitan environment which is good for business compared to the Thai and Malaysian branches." He said.
"When will you be back?" I asked.
"I do not have a fixed date. Probably at the end of the month, when all matters are finalized." He said.
"Okay." I said.
I did not expect him to go travelling at this point. I was thinking of him as the regular face I see for the whole month. It had been barely a week but how intense it was. I had grown quite used to his mannerisms.
"The penthouse suite is yours till I return." He said, looking at me when I did not say anything more.
"If you're not here, I don't want the key. My own place is ten kilometres down the boulevard." I said.
"You have the key. You can decide whether or not you want to use it. I'm not particular about things like that. You're a very discreet woman. It's not like you're going to wreak havoc here, are you?" He said.
"No, of course not. You trust me with your penthouse suite. I appreciate it, Mr. Boardmann." I said.
He smiled at me then. His face yielded to mine with mutual understanding.
"Since you know all about me, do tell me more about yourself. Anything at all that you can share with me?" He asked.
I kept quiet. I had no inkling where to start. Normally I want to keep facts as private as possible.
"You are not comfortable talking about yourself." He said.
"It is not interesting really." I said.
"Try me." He said.
I felt like I was preparing for an elevator pitch. I guess I could make my life story sound nicer than it was.
"I guess the only interesting parts of my life are the travels to different countries. I got to learn more about human behaviour and about society." I said.
"What did you pick up about human behaviour and society?" He asked.
I thought for a while. I wanted to put my answer in a positive light.
"That people do judge you for what you do. When you are at the losing end, it's best to tough it up and not complain. What doesn't break you would make you stronger. It is best to be able to rely minimally on others and not to have any expectations. Life is much simpler like that. Proven and tested." I said.
