10 - Tom

The thrill I got hearing her call me her boyfriend was like nothing I'd ever felt before. My head knew it wasn't as if it was an official title, but my heart kept saying 'yet'.

We stopped at several other stalls, though she didn't buy something at all of them. The people here beamed when they saw her and they'd talk for a couple minutes before heading on. Each time she introduced me as her boyfriend and though some seemed to recognize him they didn't get all flustered like most people I met on the street did. It was nice to be treated like a normal person.

What surprised me the most however is the fact that not all the conversations were in English; Chinese, Yiddish, Russian and Korean I was lost on, French and Greek were the only ones I was able to be a part of the conversation. It impressed me that she knew so many languages.

"So why do you speak so many languages?" I ask as we stroll the stalls.

"You're going to laugh at me."

"Please? I think it's pretty awesome that you can do it. I'm a bit jealous since I only know three."

"Fine. Have you ever watched the old tv show I Love Lucy?"

"No not really."

"Well there's an episode where they're traveling abroad in France and Lucy gets in trouble and is arrested. Her husband comes down to figure it out but there's a language barrier, he only spoke Spanish and English. There's a drunk who speaks Spanish and Italian. One cop speaks Italian and French and the head cop speaks only French."

"So they had to go down the row and translate back and forth?"

"Yes. I also grew up in a tourist town, we had people visiting and living from all over and often time's language barriers got in the way. I decided I wanted to be able to help people when others couldn't because of languages."

"Why would I laugh at that? I'm sure the people you've helped appreciate it. Your friends here seem to enjoy being able to speak their native languages with you."

It was an interesting story and showed what kind of person Eliza is. She helps anyone she could and that is a rare thing in today's world. People usually only did enough to sort of help and only if it'd benefit them in some way. It must've taken her years to learn so many languages and for all I knew she knew others than just the ones I'd heard her speak here.

"Most people think it's a waste of my time to have learned so many when I didn't have to. I was offered a job as a translator at the United Nations shortly after I moved here. One of the directors had heard me helping an Irish woman. She'd been lost and her accent was so heavy no one could understand her English."

"So you speak Gaelic too?"

"I wasn't as fluent back then as I am now but yes. I learned it because my paternal great great grandmother was born in Ireland. I'd never dreamed I'd actually need it."

"Why didn't you take the job?"

"I had other aspirations, and also because I didn't want to profit like that from something I had done to help everyday people."

I hear the click of a camera shutter before I saw the man with the camera. I'd known we'd eventually find us but it still irritated me. This one was at least keeping a distance so we could keep talking.

"What other aspirations? Your book shop? And just so you know, we've been found. There's a man at our ten o'clock taking pictures."

She glances where I said and shrugs, clearly as unbothered as I am.

"The book shop was part of it. I don't know if you've looked at the shelves, but most of the books aren't from the big publishing companies. The majority of our books come from smaller companies or self-published works. I know how hard most people have getting their books out there."

"From personal experience?" I ask truly intrigued.

"Yes." She says and glances at me from the corner of her eye.

"So you're a writer too? Anything I might've heard of?"

"You could say that. I know you've seen at least one."

I look at her for a moment before it clicks. "The play your friend was in? You wrote that?"

She just nodes and smiles shyly. She'd said that the performance was important for her friend but hadn't mentioned she'd written it too.

"Was that your first play you've written to be performed?"

"No, the director at the theater has done a handful of my screenplays so far. He's looking over two new ones right now."

"And here I thought the play was just a big deal because your friend was the lead. Why didn't you say anything before? Could I read over some of your other works?"

"I write under a pen name. Katy's the only person who knows, well and you now. Next time you're at my place check out the books above my desk in my bedroom."

"Noted. Where to now?"

"I think I've got everything now. You ready to go home?"

"I'll text Gerald to come back around." I say letting go of her hand long enough to punch it in and shove my phone back in my pocket.

There were more cameras popping up now but like the first they were keeping their distance but I knew it wouldn't be long before we'd have to make a statement. I hadn't even bothered to look and see what'd been printed since that first article about Zawe. If it was anything too bad someone would've called or texted me so I wasn't too worried.

We make it back to where Gerald had let us out before he makes it back around. I take the bag from her and set them all on the ground at our feet. She leans her head against my chest and wraps her arms around my waist. I kiss the top of her head as I wrap my arms around her shoulders, holding her close.

"This was nice." She sighs happily.

"I couldn't agree more."

How could this woman, whom I've only known for two days already mean so much to me? Could someone fall in love while they're heart was still broken? Was I falling in love with Eliza? Would she believe me if I told her, or would she think she'd just be a rebound after Zawe? Looking from where I stood now I couldn't imagine why I'd proposed to her. I should've realized she wasn't ready to settle down, that we weren't on the same page, but my mind had let my heart lead anyway.

"Gerald's here." She says.

Reluctantly I pull away and grab the bags off the ground, carrying them to the trunk Gerald had opened. I open the door and she slides in before me. I have some serious soul searching to do the next couple of days but if the sense of loss I already had when I think about saying goodbye to her on Friday was any indication I already had my answer.

One couldn't litigate who they fell in love with and though nothing about us or our meeting made sense I couldn't find any other way to classify what I felt for Eliza. It was scary and exciting all at the same time.

Gerald met my gaze as we both stood outside our own doors and I knew he knew what I was thinking at that moment. With everyone in the car Gerald pulls away, leaving the people with cameras behind for a short time.

I could feel her gaze on me without having to look at her but I knew if I looked at her right now she'd see what Gerald had and that wasn't something I was ready for.

The drive back to her apartment was quiet. I knew she knew something was on my mind but she didn't push or pry and for that I was grateful. The crowd outside her shop had thinned but I still felt bad for what came out of my mouth as soon as I said the words.

"Hey, do you mind if I don't walk you in this time?" I couldn't look at her and that made me feel worse.

"That's fine. I can manage."

"I'll help you in miss." Gerald says from the front seat and doesn't wait for her to reply.

She looks at me for a couple heart beats and then exits the car. I pull out my cell phone and message Chris asking if he had time to talk before shooting started. His reply was a simple yes. I glance towards the shop and see Eliza opening the door for Gerald, who'd taken all the bags and letting him in.

To my surprise she turns and listens to a woman standing beside one of the men taking pictures. Apparently reporters were now involved too which meant our relationship in the tabloids had sparked interest in a real news source. Eliza seemed collected and was being friendly and after a few exchanged words the woman taps the man with the camera on the shoulder and they both walk away.

She walks inside without glancing back at me and my heart sinks a little. She motions to Gerald and he sets the bags on the counter. She digs through her purse for a second and pulls something I can see out and hands it to him. He smiles at her and exits the shop. Slipping back in the driver seat he pulls away and I sag against the window.

"What'd she hand you?" I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"Nothing." He says, looking at me in the rearview mirror.

I narrow my eyes at him, knowing he's lying but not sure why.

"I realize you're hurting right now, and for whatever reason she's decided to help you save face or make Zawe jealous or whatever the motivation is and for that alone she deserves your honesty at the very least. You're both going to get hurt worse if you can't."