"Opalescent" was a nickname bestowed upon me by my coworkers, inspired by the shimmering quality of my eyes. They often likened the subtle play of colors in my irises to the shifting hues of opal stones, reflecting shades of green, blue, and hints of gold depending on the light.
Of course, they didn't call me Opalescent all the time, they shortened it to Opal. Sweet and short. Iggy had striking blue eyes that matched perfectly with her blonde hair, giving her an ethereal appearance. Mark's eyes were a warm, unremarkable brown, steady and reliable. But the stranger I had just encountered defied simple description. I couldn't designate a color to his eyes because they had no color. They seemed drained of all life, leaving behind a shimmering sea of nothingness. Some people had fire behind their eyes, others hope, yearning, or love. But his eyes were devoid of any such emotions; they were just dead.
A shiver ran over me as I recalled staring into those lifeless eyes. What unnerved me even more was the intensity of his gaze, like a predator watching its prey, calculating and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. His stare was so penetrating that it left me feeling exposed, as if he could see through every layer of my being. The encounter had left me shaken, the image of his hollow stare lingering in my mind long after I had left the room.
Opal!" Iggy snapped me out of my thoughts. "Not you too. I told you I hated that nickname. Bella's fine," I scolded her, frowning slightly.
"I know, but Opal just sounds... fancier," she teased with a grin. "So?" She asked, looking at me intently. "What was it like in there?"
I stared at her, pushing the image of the stranger with cold eyes to the back of my mind. "Oh, you know... the usual," I said
dismissively, trying to sound nonchalant.
"That's it? No handsome rich men in there?" she asked, chewing on a piece of carrot. Her curiosity was evident, but I couldn't bring myself to reveal the unsettling encounter.
"Just the usual crowd," I repeated, as I playfully swatted her hand from the bowl containing carrots. My mind was still haunted by the stranger's lifeless gaze. Iggy continued to munch on her carrot, oblivious to the turmoil inside me. As much as I wanted to confide in her, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was something I needed to process on my own.
The kitchen buzzed with activity, but my thoughts kept drifting back to those cold, empty eyes. I hoped I could forget them, but deep down, I knew they would stay with me, a chilling reminder of the encounter that had left me so unsettled.
"Opal!" Chef called, making his way through the kitchen. "I need you to take this out to the fine gentlemen in the private area," he said, showing me the tray of food.
"Oh... I was hoping Iggy could do it," I stalled, hoping he'd change his mind. The last thing I wanted was to see the stranger again.
"What are you talking about? Take this," he said, placing the tray firmly in my hands, "and put a smile on your face."
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my nerves as I looked down at the tray. There was no escaping this task. With a resigned sigh, I adjusted my apron and forced a smile. Chef's eyes bore into mine, a silent reminder that there was no room for hesitation in his kitchen.
"Yes, Chef," I replied, trying to sound confident.
Making my way out of the kitchen, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach with every step closer to the private area. The bustling sounds of the restaurant seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the echo of my own anxious thoughts. I approached the door to the private area, my heart pounding in my chest. With a deep breath, I pushed it open and stepped inside.
The atmosphere in the room was tense, the men seated around the table radiating an air of importance. And there he was, the stranger with the lifeless eyes. His gaze locked onto mine the moment I entered, and I felt the same chill run down my spine as before.
Trying to keep my composure, I approached the table and carefully set the tray down. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," I said, forcing a smile.
I carefully served their food, making a conscious effort to avoid eye contact with the stranger. My hands were steady as I picked up his plate from the tray, but my heart was racing. As I leaned forward to place it in front of him, his hand moved to the plate, and our fingertips brushed against each other.
A jolt of electricity shot through me, and I quickly retracted my fingers, my breath catching in my throat. The unexpected sensation left me momentarily stunned. I could feel his eyes on me, intense and unyielding, but I kept my gaze down, focusing on the task at hand.
"Enjoy your meal," I murmured, stepping back and making a hasty retreat. My mind was a whirlwind of confusion and unease as I exited the private area. The fleeting touch had felt strangely intimate, and it unnerved me even more than his cold, lifeless stare.
Back in the kitchen, I leaned against the counter, trying to calm my racing heart. Iggy shot me a curious look, but I shook my head, signaling that I didn't want to talk about it. The encounter had left me shaken, and I needed a moment to collect myself.
The day passed by slowly, each minute dragging as the mysterious stranger and his merry band of friends lingered in the restaurant. Finally, they made their way out, and I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
"Okay, everyone," Chef called, gathering our attention. "Good job out there. I know today must've been hectic, but you pulled through." He paused for effect, his eyes scanning the room. "Apparently, one of those men might buy this place…"
Murmurs of surprise rippled through the kitchen. Chef continued, "I don't really know all the details. But good job, people." He smiled, placing his hands behind his back in his customary manner.
Then, with a sudden shift in tone, he exclaimed, "Tell Susan she's fired," and walked out of the kitchen, leaving us in stunned silence.
Iggy shot me a look, wide-eyed. "Can you believe that?" she whispered.
I shook my head, still processing the whirlwind of events. The possibility of new ownership was unsettling enough, but the abrupt dismissal of Susan added a layer of tension to the already charged atmosphere.
As the kitchen buzzed with hushed conversations, I couldn't help but think back to the stranger and his cold eyes. If he was involved in buying the restaurant, what did that mean for all of us? The uncertainty gnawed at me, and I found it hard to focus on anything else.
Mark broke the silence, clapping his hands to get everyone's attention. "Alright, let's wrap things up and head out. It's been a long day."
We all nodded, going through the motions of closing up. My mind, however, was elsewhere, tangled in the web of possibilities and the unsettling presence of the stranger. As I left the restaurant that evening, the weight of the day's events pressed heavily on my shoulders. The future of the restaurant, and my place in it felt more uncertain than ever.
"Wanna come with me to the club tonight?" Iggy asked, hooking her arm around my neck as we made our way out of the restaurant.
"After today? I just want to go home and take a hot bath," I said, almost sighing at the comforting image in my head.
"But today's Friday, Bella. Come on, don't be a grandma." She whined, tugging on my shirt persistently.
"Maybe next Friday," I sighed, stopping to look at her.
"That's what you always say," she rolled her eyes, placing her hands on my shoulders. "When are you going to live, Bella?"
Iggy's words hung in the air, a familiar plea that I'd heard countless times before. I knew she meant well, but after the day I'd had, all I wanted was the solace of my quiet apartment. The thought of loud music, flashing lights, and crowded spaces felt overwhelming.
"Iggy, I promise we'll go out soon," I said, trying to sound sincere. "I just need a night to recharge."
She studied my face for a moment before letting out a dramatic sigh. "Fine, but you owe me a dance marathon next Friday."
"Deal," I smiled, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. Iggy pouted playfully but finally relented, releasing her grip on my shirt.
We parted ways at the corner, and I made my way home, the events of the day still swirling in my mind. I couldn't shake the image of the stranger and his cold, lifeless eyes. His presence lingered like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over my thoughts.
As I stepped into my apartment building, I made sure to avoid my landlady. The last thing I needed was another confrontation about the rent. I tiptoed down the hallway, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards that might give me away. My heart raced with each step, but I managed to reach my door without incident.
Quietly, I unlocked my door and slipped inside, exhaling a sigh of relief. The familiar musty smell of my small, rundown apartment greeted me, but tonight, even its worn charm felt like a sanctuary. I flicked on the light and headed straight for the bathroom, eager to wash away the stress of the day.
As I filled the tub with steaming hot water, I couldn't help but think back to Iggy's invitation. The idea of going out and having fun seemed so distant from my reality. Yet, a part of me longed for the carefree nights I used to enjoy before my life became a series of carefully calculated steps to avoid disaster.
I sank into the bath, letting the warmth envelop me. Closing my eyes, I tried to let the tension seep out of my muscles. The memory of the stranger's cold, lifeless eyes still haunted me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that our encounter was far from over.
But for now, I allowed myself to drift in the comfort of the hot water, pushing all thoughts of the restaurant, the stranger, and my landlady out of my mind. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, but tonight, I was determined to find a moment of peace.
As I lay there, I made a silent promise to myself that next Friday, I would go out with Iggy. I would try to live a little, just as she had urged me to do. But for now, I would take it one day at a time, finding solace in the small comforts and routines that kept me grounded.