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Just like in a dream, Layla awoke suddenly. She bolted upright, her head turning in all directions frantically, afraid that she would find herself back in that room.

It was just a dream. She wanted to tell herself it wasn't real, that it didn't happen, but lying to herself was doing more harm than help.

What she so badly wanted to believe was a dream, was a painful memory of her very recent past.

"Layla?"

Her head was quick to turn to her right, her eyes falling on a tall man sat on a desk chair, hunched over his laptop and some papers, a pen tucked behind his ear and peeking through his mass of unruly hair which looked like he had run his fingers through many times.

He wasn't wearing a balaclava and he wasn't sitting on an old wooden chair, watching her every move. His eyes were a light grey, and not the sharp blue that ignited fear in her heart. While Alejandro did scare her in ways she couldn't explain, she didn't feel in danger when she was around. She wasn't constantly fearing for her life.

Alejandro wasn't him.

"Layla? What's wrong?" He asked again, his eyes following her every movement. While the man from her memory had watched her in the same way, this was different. Alejandro was concerned about her safety and wanted to make sure she was okay; he hadn't kidnapped her or held her hostage in an unknown building against her will.

She shook her head in attempt to shake off the thoughts, the painful memory she was so desperate to avoid thinking of. She wasn't in that room anymore. She was far, far away from it; safe. "Nothing," she sighed, brushing her fingers through her hair in attempt of calming herself down. "I'm fine."

His lips turned down in a frown, but he made no move towards her. She had just had a bad dream and while it looked like she needed comfort, she probably didn't want or need it from him, a near stranger. "I have enough sisters to know that when a girl says she's fine, she definitely isn't."

If her mind wasn't still riddled with her dream, she would have laughed. "I had a bad dream, that's all." She found herself answering honestly, not sure why. "I guess speaking to Detective Hardy brought it up."

"The same dream you had last night?"

She realised he must have been listening this morning, just as she had expected. "Yes."

Alejandro swivelled round in his chair to face her; the concern evident on his face. He had been shocked by her earlier that morning when she confessed that she was having nightmares and struggling to sleep. They had slept under the same roof and eaten breakfast together, yet he had no idea that she was struggling with sleep and suffering flashes from the incident. But he had no way of knowing unless she came out and told him. "It's terrible what you went through. You didn't deserve all that happened to you."

"I guess I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." She sighed and leaned her head against the back of the couch as she stretched her muscles.

"Have you thought about getting some professional help?" He suggested, his words light and his voice quiet. Alejandro had spent a lot of time with people suffering through PTSD and so was able to confidently determine that some professional help would do Layla some good.

Her eyes trailed over him. There was no smile on his face and no teasing undertone to his words. He was genuinely concerned. "Like therapy?" She asked, already feeling the distaste in her mouth at the idea. "I don't need therapy. I need time to forget this all." She gestured to the air around her and he didn't quite understand what she meant.

"Sometimes talking to people can help."

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?" Her words were snappier than she intended, but he didn't seem to mind. Alejandro was more understanding than she thought him to be.

"You are," a slow smile spread on his face. But I'm not a professional. I can't give you the help you need."

"Can we not talk about this, please?" She rubbed at her temples and stood up from the sofa. The blanket slipped off her body and puddled at her feet. She hadn't even realised that there was a blanket covering her.

Layla didn't need to look up to know that Alejandro had been the one to cover her with it when he found her asleep on his sofa. "How long was I asleep?" She asked as she picked up the blanket and folded it neatly, placing it on the sofa.

"Just over two hours." He replied nonchalantly, having turned around to shuffle through his papers.

She frowned. "I hadn't realised I was that tired. What were you doing that whole time?" She walked into the kitchen and opened a few cupboards before finding herself a glass.

"I had some paper work to catch up on, so the timing of your nap was perfect."

She filled her glass with some water and leaned against the counter, raising it to her mouth as she eyed her bodyguard who was sat at a desk across the room. He must have taken the time she was asleep to do more than paper work, as he had changed out of his suit and into a simple outfit of plain black jeans and a matching black shirt. Non-descript, just like everything else about him with the exception of his dashing good looks, dreamy hair and muscular demeanour. "I bet when you signed up to be my bodyguard, you didn't expect to have to watch over me while I napped. It can't have been very exciting for you."

"On the contrary," he smirked and stood up, grabbing the leather jacket off the back of his chair. "I had fun watching you drool. You sleep talk too. You said some pretty interesting things."

Her glass froze mid-air. "I don't drool." She defended, cautious. Without thinking, her free hand rose to her face and wiped the corner of her mouth, relieved when it came back dry.

"You didn't deny the sleep talking." A slow grin slid onto his face.

Layla frowned. "I don't sleep talk." But her defence sounded weak even to her ears. "I'm hungry. Have you had lunch yet?" She asked and turned around to rinse her glass in hopes of changing the subject. She wasn't lying. She was hungry. A quick glance at her phone told her that it had just passed noon. A perfect time for lunch.

He grinned but let the topic go with the intention of paying more attention when she next fell asleep. "I ordered Chinese. I figured you'd be hungry when you woke up. I hope that's okay."

"That's perfect, thank you." She smiled.

They spent the next hour engaged in light conversation over a re-run of a baseball game from the previous weekend. Once their food arrived, they settled on the sofa and got tucked in, eating out of the boxes to avoid having to do the dishes. Once they were done, she helped tidy everything up, including washing the old dishes in the sink while Alejandro grabbed his stuff.

She eyed his duffel bag by the door. "I thought you would have packed more stuff."

He shrugged and picked it up, opening the door for her. "It should be enough for the rest of the week. I'll probably drag you back here sometime this weekend." He locked up and they made their way down to the car. "What's the plan for the rest of the day?"

"I was hoping we could spring by the café. I want to get some work done before it re-opens tomorrow. It's been closed for too long."

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes. "It's only been closed for a few days."

Layla hummed. "A few days too long."

When he parked outside the café, she turned to look at him. "How did you know the address? I didn't give it to you."

"It was in your file."

"Is there anything not in there?"

"It only contains basic information about you. I still have yet to find out all your juicy secrets."

She smiled. "And let's keep it that way." She slid out of the car and reached for her keys in her bag. Pulling them out, she slid it into the keyhole and opened the door to her café.

As soon as she stepped in, she felt like she was home. She should have realised it sooner. If she truly wanted to get better, she should have come to the café sooner. It was the only place she truly felt at peace, where she could spend hours and hours on end in the kitchen in the back, baking sweet treats or cooking up a nice hearty meal for her regular customers.

He understood why she was in love with the place. It was a nice, homely café with numerous intimate tables and booths lined against the windows. The flooring consisted of light grey tiles and the walls were painted a soft cream, giving the illusion that the space was larger than it was. To the left, there was the counter and till where he presumed all the confectionery was displayed each morning.

Alejandro shed his jacket and placed it in one of the booths before following her into the kitchen. "I thought you said this was a café."

"Maybe I downplayed things a bit." She shrugged, already doing an inventory of everything, making a note of what she would need for tomorrow. "We sell mostly desserts and booze, but a lot of people do come in here for meals."

"That's why you wanted the loan?"

She spared him a glance from over her shoulder. "The building next door is up for sale and I wanted to buy it. The plan was to knock down the middle wall and turn this place into a restaurant. I want to offer more than just comfort food. I want to offer all sorts of dishes and cuisines."

"Ah, so you're a business woman."

"Perhaps. I think that plan might have to take a backseat for a while, at least until things calm down around here."

"That's probably for the best." He rolled up his sleeves and came to stand next to her. "Do you need me to do anything?"

She sent him a weird look. "I don't think baking and food prep is a part of your job description."

He threw his head back and laughed. "You'll be surprised with what my job description includes."

Finishing off what she was writing, she handed him a piece of paper and some cash. "I need you to grab some supplies for me."

He eyed the list. "You're not coming with me?"

"No," she denied. "I'm going to start baking with what we do have. It'll be quicker that way."

"Where's the closest grocery store?"

"It's just down the road."

Alejandro wasn't too fond of leaving her alone, but when she refused to join him, he was in and out of the store with her list fulfilled in less than 20 minutes, only to return to the café to be met with the smell of something sweet and delicious cooking in the oven.

They spent the rest of their afternoon working hard at the café. Her baking and him helping wherever he could lend a hand. The whole time, both of them completely oblivious to the way the other was looking at them when they thought they weren't looking.

-

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L A Y L A    K N I G H T

30.04.2020