Your hijab warms me

Chapter 6 An Accidental Meeting

It's bullshit! I distract him with flattery, always a good tactic.

"You'll probably get more out of him."

"I doubt, Gisele come on, he practically offered you a job. Given that I pasted this on you at the last minute, you did really well." He looked at me speculatively. I hurriedly retreated to the kitchen.

"So, what do you really think of him?" I know he wants to know. Why didn't he just let this pass? Think of something Gisele, quick.!

"He's very passionate, controlling the people around him, he's arrogant, really scary, but very charismatic. I can understand the appeal," I added honestly, as I peeked out of the door at him hoping this would silence him for good.

"You, fascinated by a man? That's something interesting" he snorted.

I started collecting sandwich ingredients so he couldn't see my face.

"Why do you want to know if he g*y? Incidentally, that was the most embarrassing question. I'm embarrassed, and he's upset about being asked too." I pouted remembering it.

"Every time he's on social media or on the google search page, he never dates. Usually people who are too handsome but not dating are often said to be g*y"

"That's embarrassing. Everything's humiliating. I'm glad I'll never see her again."

"Oh, Gisele, it can't be that bad. I think he sounds pretty interested in you."

I think Rahma is being ridiculous now.

"You want a sandwich?"

"Please."

We didn't talk about Ricardo The Cafrio again that night, which relieved me. After we ate, I could sit at the dinner table with Rahma and, while she was working on her article, I did my essay. The woman was in the wrong place at the wrong time in the wrong century, I commented on the essay I was working on.

By the time I was done, it was already midnight, and Rahma had been sleeping for a long time. I walked into my room, exhausted, but happy that I had done so much for Monday.

I curled up on my pinky bed, wrapped my body in a blanket, closed my eyes, and I fell asleep instantly. That night I dreamed of dark places, cold floors that were bleak white, and blue eyes.

For the rest of the week, I busied myself with my studies and my work in the Unisoviet. Rahma is also busy, putting together the last issue of her student magazine before she has to hand it over to the new editor while also working on her final exam.

On Wednesday, he was much better. I called my mother in Switzerland to check on her, but also so she could pray for me for the final exam. She started telling me about her latest venture in candle making, my mother started a new business venture. Basically he is bored and wants something to fill his time, but he has something that always has to be considered, namely goldfish. It will be something new next week.

He worries me. I hope he doesn't mortgage the house to finance this latest scheme. And I wish Rudy was her relatively new but much older husband, watching over her now that I was no longer beside her. She did seem much more down-to-earth than Husband Number Three.

"How are you, Gisele?"

For a moment, I hesitated, and I got my full attention from Mom.

"I'm fine."

"Gisele, do you have someone you like?" Wow.... how did he do that?, The excitement in his voice sounded clear.

"No, Ma. I'll be the first to know if I find my soul mate."

"Gisele, you really need to get out more, baby. You're making me worry." I rarely go out or have fun with friends.

Maybe people say I'm a nerd.

"As usual, he's fine." replied my mother.

In the afternoon, I called Rama my stepfather, Mother Number Two's Husband, the man I consider my father, and the man whose name I bear. It's a short conversation. In fact, this was not a conversation like a series of one-sided grunts in response to my gentle persuasion. Rama is not a speaker. But he's still alive, he's still watching football on TV, and going bowling and fishing or making furniture as he relaxes. Rama is a skilled carpenter and that is why I know the difference between an eagle and a hand saw. Everything seems fine with him.

Friday night, Rahma and I were debating what to do with our night, we wanted time off from our studies, from our work, and from the HIMA, he said, when there was a doorbell ringing.

And standing at our doorstep was my good friend Rahadian, she was holding an orange juce in her hand.

"Brothhood ! It's good to see you!" "Lake in."

Rahadian was the first person I met when I arrived at college, looking as lost and lonely as I was at the time.

We recognized the same spirit within each of us that day, and we have been friends ever since.

We not only shared a sense of humor, but talked about other interesting things, and my stepfather had known Rahadian for a long time. As a result, our father also became close friends.

Rahadian is studying engineering and is the first person in her family to successfully enter college. He is very intelligent, but his real passion is photography. Rahadian has good eyes and is quite handsome, although not as handsome as Ricardo, eh what Ricardo again the hell I always call.? Let it pass.

"I have news." He grinned, his dark eyes sparkling.

"Don't tell me, you've managed to conquer a new game?" godaku's.

"Raymon's gallery will show off my photos next month."

Raymon Gallery is a gallery that is quite famous among photographers.

"Excellent, congratulations!" Pleased him. Rahma was beaming at him too.

"It's good, Rahadian! I have to put this in a magazine. Unlike last-minute editorial changes on Friday night." He grins.

"Let's celebrate. I want you to come to the opening." Rahadian looked at me sharply. I turned my face away.

"The two of you, of course," he added, glancing at Rahma nervously.

Rahadian and I were good friends, but I knew deep down she wanted to have a taste for me. She's cute and funny, but she's not my type. He was more like a brother I never had. Rahma used to tease me that I was missing genes and needed a boyfriend, but actually, I've never met anyone who, well, interested me, even though part of me misses it's shaky knees, heart in my mouth, butterflies in my stomach, sleepless nights.

Sometimes I wonder if there is something wrong with me?. Perhaps I have spent too long with literary romantic heroes, and as a result my ideals and expectations are too high. But the truth is, nothing ever made me feel that way.

Until recently, a small unwanted voice from my subconscious whispered.

NAY! I immediately threw away that thought. I'm not going there, not after that embarrassing interview. Are you g*y, Mr Cafrio? I grimace remembering it. I know I've been dreaming about it almost every night since then, but it's just to take the bad experience out of my system, isn't it?

I saw Rahadian drinking his Orange juce. She was tall, and with jeans and a t-shirt she saw her athletic shoulder muscles, tanned skin, dark hair and dark eyes burning. Yeah, Rahadian was pretty sexy, but I think she finally understood the message: we were just friends. He burps, and Rahadian looks up and smiles.

Saturday in the store was a nightmare. We were surrounded by a group of people who wanted to tidy up their homes. Mr and Mrs Unisoviet, Rizky and Melly and two other part-time workers, and also I were all in a hurry. But there's a lull around lunchtime, and Mrs. Melly asked me to check some orders while I sat behind the cashier table while secretly eating my sandwich bread.

I was engrossed with the task, checking the catalog number against the items we needed and the items we had ordered, eyes switched from the order book to the computer screen and returned as I checked the entry match. Then, for some reason, I looked up. and found myself locked in a bold blue gaze from Ricardo who was standing at the counter, looking at me intently.

My heart almost fell out of shock.

"Hi Miss Gisele, what a pleasant surprise." His gaze was unshakable and intense.