Maya: ā„
18. Breakfast: my character brings yours breakfast in bed.
(This is based on what little stuff we discussed regarding Bentham and Maya on Skype, Marie!
There was something morbidly welcoming about waking up next to Maya Anderson.
Rather, it would probably be more precise to word the circumstances as such: Bentham had woken up in his own bed, one arm resting lightly over the curled form of Maya Anderson who was currently snoozing deeply into oblivion, her glossy obsidian locks tousled neatly around her pale face. Her face resembled a babyās and she slept like one too, although that might have been the peripheral effect of the heavy intake of alcohol she had endured last night while tempering with Bentham, having simultaneously tried to wheedle answers out of him regarding his ever untrustworthy behavior.
Incidentally, the only pieces of clothing the two of them had lost were Benthamās tie and Mayaās shoes. Apparently while in a drunken stupor (however that appeared to the public eye) it seemed they had come to some sort of unspoken settlement to refrain from experimenting on ironically childish urges and instead tread on the safe side while sharing a bed in his penthouse suite. But how the two of them - two characters who seemed to wield masterly forms of self-restraint - managed to drink each other right off their seats was beyond him.
Two things were, however, crystal clear even in the hungover clutter of Benthamās mind at current: one, Maya Anderson belonged to law enforcement, and two, in her current condition she made her as vulnerable as a woman like her could ever possibly be. Of course, the gamester himself was greatly responsible for the mischief of putting her into such a sticky situation, but at the same time it was the cost she had to bear for having tried so vehemently to have him divulge his secrets.
Tsk, pity.
Here an eccentric woman potentially capable of standing on equal footing with him had waltzed straight into his life and there was already little he could do to indulge asides from sit there for twenty minutes more, chin in hand, surveying her stately expressions as she slumbered. She never once roused in her sleep.
Bentham began wondering if she was his type of girl after all. Ā This was a secretive, dark beauty for whom Bentham had tastelessly endeavored round after round of drinks while trying to shake her and her expertly covert questions. For now, it seemed like he had come on top, as the woman had unintentionally left her guards down completely.
He had the leisure to do with her what he would, and not a soul would ever know once he was done.
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"Youāre awake,ā Bentham observed around half an hour later, towing a wooden breakfast tray towards the bed. He watched as Maya sat up sluggishly, buffeted by the after effects of alcohol consumption, pushing a silky tangle of her hair up over her forehead.
One glance at him, however, and she seems to have sobered up completely, eyes growing round like clocks. After hastily inspecting herself and coming to terms with the fact that they were both still dressed rather decently, she shot him a dark look. āWhere are we? Did you bring me here?ā
Benthamās first response was to calmly set the tray down by her side over the rumpled white duvet. On it, there was a small spread of colorful riches: rusk, eggs, olives, tomatoes, and some local soft cheese - a Dakos, basically, with a side of honey for the bread if that weren't her type of morning meal to begin with. A ceramic cup carrying an herbal tea of some language rested off to the corner, waiting to whisk her headache away.
Being a man, it was all too easy to have fingers pointed at him in situations as particularly common as a male and female happening upon each other alone in a bedroom. Waking and sobering first hardly helped make him look less guilty, to boot.
He shrugged simply and elected not to play games with her; he had had rich opportunity to do so last night. āWeāre on the topmost floor of the casino; this suite belongs to me. Before you jump into any conclusions, Miss Anderson, just know that I rule you to be in all ways as guilty of getting us into this situation as I am.ā
She took her gaze off of the bed tray and narrowed her eyes at him. āMeaning?ā
āMeaning nothing happened between us after we over-indulged a little too much on drinks last night. Iām assuming so. It would be another story entirely if we managed to do anything before coherently dressing ourselves back up afterwards, but if those were the circumstances I couldnāt tell you much about it.ā
Bentham seated himself on the edge of the bed and sipped somewhat indifferently at a mug of black coffee. āMy suggestion is for us to shake hands and put it all behind us. Iām saying nothing happened, but if youāre considering beating on the dead horse, just keep in mind that youāll be in every bit as responsible as I am for getting us into this bind. Thatās all.ā
Maya said nothing.
After a while of her silence, Bentham glanced over his shoulder to meet the suspicious glare in her eyes, before a light chuckle rattled his frame. āLook, nowā¦ Even if you werenāt from the police force, there was no way I wouldnāt have suspected you. Not after the assault of questions you threw my way last night.ā His laughter became a little less restrained.
āBut why? Why you? Youāre a beautiful and difficult woman. Had it been any other woman questioning me like you did last night, I wouldnāt feel so at a complete loss after realizing you were a police officer all along. What gives?ā
Benthamās candid laughter eased off after he receives some more silence on Mayaās end, and emulating the bitterness of his coffee the gambler opts to stare out the large windowpane at dawn, which breaks a refreshing glow throughout the sleepy city and its skyscrapers. The gamester then muttered quietly over the rim of his mug.
āJust eat. Take that as my compensation for goading you into overdrinking. Womenās bodies arenāt made to handle so much alcohol, are they?ā Resting his cup on the nightstand, Bentham sunk a hand into the mattress and leaned his weight back against it, offering her a rather civil smile.
āI donāt particularly mind the trouble if you disagree, but I propose we get along with each other, Miss Anderson. If thereās anything you want to discuss, we can do so frankly over dinner. How does that sound?ā
