runaway princess…

“You’re beautiful,” He recited.

“You want something.”  I declared smiling.

“I want you.”  He scanned my body with his crystal blue eyes.

“I am taken.” 

“You might be,” He replied casually. “Where is he?”

“In a safe place where no men like you can harm him.” 

I allowed a soft laugh as I thanked the waiter for my Bailey’s.

“I’m serious.”  He said looking at me in the eye.

“So am I.”  I answered.

“You’re good but please, call me Sean. Sir makes me feel…”

“Ahead of your time?” I answered. Sean laughed and I honestly found it quite sexy. Oh, his entire being was amazingly stunning.

“I am not old so I don’t want to feel that way.”  He confessed.

“How young are you, Mr.…?

“Whitman. I am 32. You?”  He sipped his Carlsberg.

“Let your numbers switch place.”  I said.

“Well you’re the one ahead of your time…”  He stated smiling.

“Ahead and stumbling.”  I said watching him chuckle. 

He leaned over to reach out for my hand yet I crossed my arms and leaned back on my chair disallowing his action. “Oh, you’re good.” He nodded.

“You’re not the first man I’ve spoken to, Mr. Whitman.”  I leaned putting my palms together. “What do you want? There are beautiful women all over this place. Why have you placed your fine ass on my table?”

I sensed him studying me a bit. Either that or Sean Whitman was thinking with his entire brain capacity in search of a first class line hoping I’d literally fall for it.

“I approached you because you’re alone.”

“Well, isn’t that bravery…?”  I commented giving him a soft applaud.  He smirked keeping his smile as sincere as possible.  “Ever thought of the fact that I might be secluding myself?” 

“Not in Thailand. Girls sitting alone in a bar are usually waiting for their daily victim…”

“Do share your expertise.”  I commented.

The blonde hair Brit-Swiss blushed.

“You’re not here to make friends, Mr. Whitman. Spill it.”  I declared.

“Be with me on my holiday for three weeks. I offer you five star hotel, first class service and cash at hand if you agree for the entire three weeks, not a day less.”  He announced introducing me his true colors – colors I’ve always wished to be nonexistent in a man.

“Location?” I kept my posture erect and voice calm.

“Phi Phi Island.” He said as my head flew to Leonardo DiCaprio’s The Beach. 

“Timing?”  I continued clasping my hands together.

“I need to go back to London for two weeks so after that I will be back to pick you up.”

“Type of transportation?” 

“We’ll fly.”

“Name of airline and seating arrangement?”  I asked.

“We’ll get us business with Thai Airways?”

“Outer parties?” 

“I don’t mind a couple other girls if you’re up for it. If not, it’ll be just the two of us under the sun, baby.”

“Exclusively compensated?” I assured sounding like a first class whore.

“Everything. Food, services, you name it. Just be with me.”

I exhaled, feeling a deep anguish running through my body.  Since I moved back to Asia, I’ve discovered how the love and hate relationship I’ve maintained with Caucasian men have turned into one frenzied fixation.

Again he examined my face. “You really have a man don’t you?”

“I do.”

“He doesn’t have to know, baby.” He almost whispered.

“No, he doesn’t.”  I agreed.

“Deal is it…”  He asked.

“State your price.”  I smiled as Sean Whitman showed his widest grin.

“Two grand.”

“You’re cheap.”  I giggled as he raised his eyebrows laughing.

“Honey, that’s two grand a week. You will leave with six grand.”

He ordered another Carlsberg.

“Honey, what else do you want? You want clothes? We’ll go shopping then. Just name your brands.”

“Burberry?”  I lied having no interest in that particular top dog name.

“Whatever you want, baby. I promise.”

I thought of all the mentally underprivileged men I’ve unavoidably met during my short life.

“Six grand for three weeks of full paid holiday sounds reasonable. Branded clothing is a common desire amongst women. But it’s not enough. You’re still chaining yourself.”  I said leaning bringing my face two inches from his. “Look around…” 

Sean brought his eyes to every corner of the bar.  “What?”  He said.

“There’s not a rich man in this building or city that cannot give me what you’ve offered.”

“Yes, but we want each other, honey.” He announced confidently. “You’d choose me over that loaded fat guy.”  Sean pointed to an overweight middle aged man surrounded with four Thai women – one on his lap.

“Give me a lifetime.”  I grew anxious at how far he was willing to go.

“What?”

“I want your offer plus a lifetime with you.”  I stated flatly.

“You’re joking now.”  Sean backed away a bit.

“Your offer is awfully insignificant, Mr. Whitman.”  For the first time that night I allowed an insincere smile watching Sean Whitman turned for embarrassment. And fury.

“How about ten grand?”  He answered densely.

“You don’t understand.”  I smirked. “The sum in your bank account won’t do a thing!”
“You’re lucky I offered that much!”  He raised his voice.

“You think I’m worth ten grand, Mr. Whitman? These girls here are worth that. You can pay ten grand and get five of them! Discount at it’s best for a tight wallet like yours!”  I stated firmly.

“How much would you go for? How much?!”  Sean insisted.

“Be with me, love me.”  I laughed watching him parting his lips in distress. “But we both know you can’t afford that much!”

“Bet your man is loaded?”  He twisted the conversation leaving me contemplating for a few seconds.

“No idea to be honest.”  I answered softly.

“So have fun with me. What is the problem?”  He demanded.

“The problem, Mr. Whitman, is that you can’t give me what I want. Ten grand doesn’t exactly cover it.”

“You’re a fucking insane woman.”  Sean scoffed loudly.  Suddenly his handsome face was the most hideous thing a woman can ask for.

“Better insane than poor in more ways than one,” I laughed cynically. “Get off my table or I’ll call security.” I glanced at a tall built Thai man in a black shirt standing in a corner giving me a concerned look in return.

“There are tons like you in Bangkok anyway.”  Sean got up.

“I hope not, otherwise you’d be doing a one-some for three weeks.”

“Fuck you.”  The blonde recited before leaving.

——————

I sat in the backseat of a taxi gazing out at Bangkok’s nightlife. Mr. Whitman’s “you’re beautiful” ended with “fuck you.”  Funny, the sort of dejavus playing for me.

“You go alone, Miss.”  The driver asked. “No friend?”

“No, friend not here.”  I answered thinking of my lover whose voice lingered inside my head.

I am so much in love with you. Tell me this is forever, Sita. All I think of is you, me and our little Alex…

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