The meeting

Chapter 4: The meeting

The evening arrived faster than expected. I had tried to repel the idea of this dinner, to find an excuse, to convince myself that I did not have to follow this strange invitation. But each attempt seemed vain. The paper that Brett had given me always rests on my desk, next to my notebook, as an incessant reminder, a silent warning that I could not ignore.

At eight precise o'clock, when I was in front of my mirror, I realized that I had no choice. This dinner was not a simple invitation, it was a step, a door that I had to take. But what disrupted me the most was the reason why I felt an inexplicable need to go. Each fiber of my being howled me to flee, and yet, I was not moving.

I slipped into a simple but elegant black dress, one of those I kept for special occasions, although this opportunity was not really. My gaze landed for a moment on my reflection in the mirror. My face, marked by anxiety, contrasts with the apparent tranquility of my features. What did he really want?

I don't allow myself to think any longer. Time pressed.

---

The restaurant he told me was in a chic district of the city, away from the animated streets, at the end of a discreet alley. It was all that I would never have imagined: modern, elegant, with a cozy and intimate atmosphere. As soon as I entered, the air seemed heavy with promises and secrets. The sieved lights and the velvet curtains created a cocoon where intimacy seemed to be the only rule.

I didn't even need to look. Brett was already there, installed at a table in a quiet corner, almost invisible, but where he could observe each movement around him. He saw me immediately when he entered, and his eyes landed on me with an almost disturbing intensity.

I walked slowly, the heart beating to break everything. His gaze, like the first time, seemed to unravel my soul, and although I tried to convince myself that I did not want to be there, a strange attraction persisted in me, as an invisible force which pushed me to move forward.

-"Good evening, hope," he said simply when arriving near him. He got up to give me a place. A gallant gesture, but with a controlled coldness, as if all this was part of a plan that he already had in mind.

I sat without saying a word, too troubled to react. The server arrived almost immediately, and Brett ordered a red wine without even consulting me, as if he already knew my tastes, my preferences.

- "Have you found the place easily?" He asked in a calm, almost sweet voice.

I nodded, trying to keep my calm.

-"It's ... very pretty here," I replied. I felt like I said the first thing that went through my head, but the reality was much more complex. I felt like an intruder in a world that was not mine.

Brett smiled slightly, and his gaze was more piercing. He seemed to savor every moment of this meeting.

- "I'm glad you like it." He marked a break, his eyes not leaving mine. "Tonight, I explain everything to you, Hope."

He didn't seem to ask for my opinion, but something in his tone suggested that he knew that sooner or later I would listen to him. He waited for a moment, just enough for the silence between us to become palpable, heavy.

-"I'm here for you, Hope," he said finally, the voice lower. "Not to frighten yourself, or handle yourself. You are much more than you think."

I briefly looked away, but I couldn't escape his grip. "What do you mean?" I asked, my almost inaudible voice, trembling with uncertainty.

Brett put his glass with an almost supernatural calm and leaned slightly on the table, leaning towards me.

- "You are not a simple bookseller, Hope. You are not just a pawn in a game that you do not understand. You are someone essential."

I looked at him, completely lost. "Essential to what?"

He let out a little laugh, but it was a laugh that did not correspond to the man he seemed to be. It was a laugh that hid a secret, a truth that he could not yet reveal entirely.

- "Essential for the future, Hope. Yours. Mine. And that of many others."

I felt more and more destabilized. I would have liked to leave this table, running out, but an invisible force kept me. Irresistible curiosity. What did he have to tell me? Why did he choose me?

The wine then arrived, brought by the server. Brett took his glass and lifted it gently, as if he expected a gesture from me. I had no choice but to raise mine too, although I still do not understand the reasons for this exchange.

-"Health," he said simply, before drinking.

I followed the gesture, the look always riveted on him, trying to read something in his gaze. But there was nothing. He was impenetrable, like a calm sea in appearance, but whose depth hid terrible secrets.

The dinner took place in an almost solemn silence. We ate, but the words were not many. Brett did not seem in a hurry. He let the tension accumulate, building an invisible wall between us, a wall that only the truth could break.

When the meal was over, Brett lingered for a while on his chair, his contemplative gaze. Then he got up slowly, and without a word, he went to the door. I got up in my turn, ready to follow. I knew it was time, that something was going to happen, that this evening could not finish like this.

He gave me a last look, as if everything was already written. Then he turned to me and whispered:

- "This is only the beginning, Hope. You have taken a first step. But you have not yet seen what awaits you."

And, before I could answer, he left the restaurant, leaving me there, with more questions than answers. But one thing was certain: he was not going to let me go. He had already marked me. And the worst part was that I didn't know yet if I wanted it.