Chapter 65: At first sight
2250words
Gabriel insisted I tell him the story of my relationship with Nathan. The fights we had and still being in love seemed to amuse him. I took a sip of my red wine and relaxed my back against the couch to begin my love story with Nathan.
Flashbacks
My room was dimly lit with a blue bulb. The atmosphere was humid, so I closed all the windows to enjoy my comfy space. An almost finished cup of my favorite black coffee sat on the desk beside me. As I typed, my fingers flew across the keyboard with a fierce intensity, each key striking a rhythmic beat. My eyes focused intently on the screen, my brow furrowed in concentration, as I poured my thoughts and emotions onto the digital page. I couldn't afford to miss this opportunity. This was going to be my seventeenth application letter in the course of seven months after graduation. Managing a meager job wasn't going to fulfill my dreams of becoming one of the richest businesswomen in the whole of Metro Manila.
'One, two, and we are done," I sent my application letter and reclined in the chair, feeling exhausted.
'What are you up to?" The sudden voice beside me startled the living coldness out of my body as I jerked up, almost sending my laptop flying off the desk.
'Jeez! You scared me, Mother!" I panted.
'Why are you still up at this time of night?" she asked.
I dropped back into the chair. 'How can you see me if you're sleeping?" I retorted.
'That hasn't answered my question," she stood behind me.
'I was writing an application letter. I have a good feeling about this one."
'Tsk! What good will your good feeling bring, Scarlett?" she asked, pulling the second chair to sit down. 'You and I both know no one would be willing to employ you. People get good jobs in their first month after graduation, Scarlett. Why does yours have to be different?"
'I hate discouraging words, Mother. You should be happy for me. At least I'm not idle; I still bring something to the table."
'Just tell yourself the truth, Scarlett. What you bring to the table is not enough for this family. You know what to do, yet you aren't doing it. Try to become beautiful, and maybe, just maybe, God will smile upon us."
'There you go again, Mother. I can't ever go for plastic surgery. I would rather use the money to start up a profitable business. I don't want to conform to the conventional standards of beauty just to please people. I am not every girl, Mother. I am Scarlett de Guzman, your first child, and I will become what God wishes me to become without altering my natural look," I declared. 'I am going to bed, Mother. Close the door when you leave," I concluded and went to bed.
'You never listen to me, Scarlett," she said, standing up. 'Half a loaf is better than none, but I prefer none over half a loaf. You are not even being called someone's child," she groaned and slammed the door.
'Have mercy upon us, Lord," I prayed silently and closed my eyes.
***
It's the last third quarter of the year, September to be specific, and hence, our autumn. On this beautiful, golden crisp sunny morning, I trekked down my street, a district in Pasay, Metro Manila, Philippines. The early morning dew was still visible on nearby plants, slowly weakening under the sunrise. It seemed like every living soul in Pasay was on the street today; it's usually like this on Mondays. The regular chaos of Mr. John's customers brought a smile to my face. I waved at the poor old man struggling to serve all his customers at once. The regular honking of car horns rumbled in my ears as each vehicle tried to make a snail-like movement forward on the jam-packed road. That's what I enjoy most about my street: crowds and indignant yelling. It's boring but sometimes amazing. A sudden gust of howling wind tickled my face, sending my brown loose curls dancing to its tune, which brought a smile to my tingling face. I felt like a bird at that moment, except I had no wings to fly with the wind.
As I wended my way along the bustling street, my favorite coffee shop didn't escape my notice. The aroma of morning coffee filled my nostrils with feelings of temptation. I could almost feel the hotness searing down my throat already. I fought everything in me not to go in and grab a cup of my favorite pure black coffee. I would be late if I did so.
Hurrying to a job interview without having breakfast from home only to get there and discover the interviewer hadn't arrived yet pissed me off. It left me with the urge to punch the wall, but I tried calming myself by leaving the waiting hall. Pushing open the glass door that almost swatted me back inside, I twisted my ankle.
'Ouch! Dang you!" I scowled at the door before finding a bench to sit and massage my ankle.
The new environment didn't escape my notice. The sunrise cast its soft yellow glow on the white-painted house opposite the street. The chirping of birds drew my attention to the sky. I saw two cute little birds flapping their wings up high in the sky. The sun was against my clear sight, but I did make out the shape and color of the birds. Their freedom left a deep sense of longing in my heart. What would it have been like if I were a bird? Would anyone have restricted my movements? Would I have been questioned by society as to why I am distinguished and awkward? I wish God could make me a bird for just a day. I really want to know what it feels like to fly high above everyone else.
Just then, the beep of my phone distracted me from my reverie. A message just popped up from Juan, my boyfriend. He was asking about my day. Reading it brought a smile to my face. Maybe I don't necessarily have to be a bird to soar high above everyone else. With Juan, I am freer than a bird, and I soar higher than I ever imagined. His presence gives me the strength to overcome my fears and pursue my dreams. I replied to his message and focused back on my surroundings. A few vehicles passed through this street, unlike my area where no space is left even for an ant. There was a modern restaurant to my left with a big description board in front of the building.
'Marry Homey?" I mumbled to myself, shifting on the bench to get a clearer view of the restaurant.
'Oh! Mary Homey, not Marry Homey."
Just then, my stomach grumbled. I had to take something, else my stomach was going to disgrace me in front of the interviewer. My eyes flitted around before landing on a small coffee shop across the street. I could almost taste the black coffee as it traveled down into my stomach.
'Excuse me, Miss," one of the men I had seen earlier inside came along. He was a tall, well-built man in a black tuxedo. 'The interviewer will be around in fifteen minutes," he notified me.
'Why the hell is that?" I muttered.
I didn't say it aloud, though. I only nodded to his notification, and he went back inside.
I hurried across the street to quickly grab a cup of black coffee before returning for the interview.
I didn't realize the coffee shop would be this busy. I waited in line. After successfully getting my cup of coffee, I turned, only to bump into a man, spilling coffee all over his classic red shirt.
'Fuck!" he exclaimed, immediately wiping the surface with his handkerchief.
'Whoops-a-daisy! What the hell?" I snapped instead of apologizing. 'My coffee is wasted."
'Is that a way of apologizing?" He didn't yell; he asked calmly, which took me aback.
His American accent didn't escape my notice. His voice was deep and alluring. Not too deep, actually. My eyes scrutinized his remarkable appearance: He had a neatly done braided topknot. I had never seen a Filipino man with braids before. Like, who the hell wears braids as a man in the Philippines?
There was a black headphone on his neck. His captivating sapphire eyes shimmered like a blue pool on a sunny day. He was muscular—moderately so—but precise. His baby-pink lips appeared succulent. Combined with his now coffee-ruined red casual crew-neck short-sleeve shirt and classic-fit sport shorts, he was the best definition of handsome. I almost drooled. He arched his perfectly aligned eyebrows, and I quickly lowered my gaze.
'I'm sorry," I apologized.
'You're paying for it," he declared and grabbed my hand.
'What? Wait, what are you doing?" I protested. He took out a pen from his pocket, scribbled some digits and a bank name on my palm.
'Five thousand pesos," he said, and turned to leave.
'What the hell? Are you trying to buy someone's life? I can just do the laundry and return it to you," I grumbled, hurrying after him outside. He ignored me and entered a black Mercedes Benz car that had just pulled up.
'I can't pay such an amount! Are you a thief?" I yelled after the car, but he was already gone. I looked at the account number on my palm and grunted.
'Why am I even getting worked up? He won't ever see me again. Such an arrogant, good-looking thief," I comforted myself and crossed to the next street for my interview.
***
'Hello, babe?" I greeted Juan as he opened the door to his apartment for me. Juan was every woman's dream man. He was handsome, had a heart of an angel, and had the best smile ever.
'What's up, babe? I tried calling you earlier," he said, going to the refrigerator to get me a drink.
'Yeah, I missed your call. My phone was on silent. I went for a job interview," I explained.
'Oh, really?" he said, handing me a cup of strawberry juice and sitting beside me. 'Did you get it?" he asked.
'She'll give me a call," I said, relaxing my head against the couch.
'I don't trust when interviewers say that. They'll end up not calling you in the end," he said.
'I have a good feeling about this one. I'm going to get it."
'I hope so because we can't survive without you having a job. Seriously, it's going to be tough," he expressed, a frown appearing on his face.
'I know, right? You don't have to worry. I'm going to get the job, and I'll support you the best way I can," I assured him, taking his hand in mine.
'Wait, what is this?" he asked, opening my palm.
'It's nothing. I'm going to erase it soon," I declared, smiling.
'I just hope you aren't trying to send someone else money. What about the money I asked you for? You haven't sent anything, and now you're going to send someone else some money?" he started his regular grumbling.
'Come on, babe. I told you it's nothing. I'm not sending money to anyone else. As for the money I promised you, I'll send it soon after I get the job. The job description includes a base fee, so don't worry," I tried to explain. He was silent for a minute. 'Babe, say something."
'Fine, I'll be waiting for the money. I really need it for a project," he said.
'I got you, babe. Don't be pissed off," I tried to calm him down, and he finally smiled.
'I trust you," he pecked my hand.
'Come on, what did you cook? I'm starving," I stood up, pulling him with me to the kitchen.
Normally, I hated cooking, but Juan enjoyed doing it. He didn't complain, and I was grateful for that. I couldn't learn to cook in a million years.
***
The following day, I resumed work. I received a call from the woman last night, telling me to report to Reyes Legacy Jewels. I was practically the first person to arrive at the office, except for the security personnel at the gate. A lady, the secretary, arrived after me and showed me to the CEO's office. I couldn't stop thinking about being late the previous night and not getting enough sleep, so I arrived as early as possible. I would be working temporarily as a personal assistant to the CEO. It was temporary because I signed a six-month contract.
I surveyed the office: the white paint on the walls enhanced the tranquility within. The office was as spacious as a soccer field, with only two desks opposite each other. The two large standing ACs left chills on my skin, leaving me regretting wearing a professional ensemble: a crisp white blouse, a light pink blazer, a sleek black pencil skirt, and elegant black suede heels instead of black pants and an oversized hoodie. It wouldn't have been a bad idea for a first-day-at-work outfit, right? I soon went into the bathroom to ease myself, and most importantly, to escape the cold torture. Coming out, I almost bashed headfirst into someone's chest at the door. A loud gasp escaped my lips.
Oh, no! Why did it have to be him of all people?
