NINETEEN
Joining the designing team was the best thing that could happen to Claire, as far as her career was concerned. Her team members welcomed her fairly enough, too. She had been working with them for three days now, and things were proceeding well to say the least.
It was Friday when Jorge suddenly called her during lunch hours, and invited her out. She was skeptical at first, but when she thought about the favor he had done her by getting Gena a job, Claire realized she should at least be kind and accept his friendly gesture.
"Thanks for coming on such short notice. I was around the area and I thought we could have lunch together," Jorge said gently once they both settled inside the restaurant.
"It's okay," Claire replied with a small smile. "Actually, I should've invited you first. I wanted to thank you for hiring Gena; it means a lot to me."
"It was no big deal," Jorge remarked while grabbing the menu. "She has great credentials, and there was an open position, so I thought why not?" He gazed modestly at her.
"Either way, thank you," Claire insisted and a small silence stretched between them. The waiter took their order. "So how is work?" she finally asked.
"Good. Even though you refused to work in your own company, we are still managing," Jorge said, his tone a bit accusing and it strangely melted Claire's heart.
At least he was different from his mother, she thought. Her company? No, it no longer was. The witch had confiscated everything so she wasn't going to be a part of her scheme.
"I'm sure you can manage," she told Jorge. "I'm okay with my job so you have nothing to worry about." She meant it.
A simple conversation followed, accompanying their food. It was actually the first time for the two to hang out and share a meal outside the house. It felt strange somehow, but maybe this was how things should've been since many years back.
They're still siblings, right?
"I think I've eaten too much." Jorge stood up, ready to clear the cheque.
"Me, too," said Claire, chuckling at the memory of her last dinner with Ryan and the way he teased about her big appetite. "I didn't know there's such a nice restaurant around my workplace. It's officially my new spot."
"My pleasure." John grinned and walked away.
A deep breath escaped Claire as she sipped her chocolate milkshake. She was suddenly nostalgic. It had been three days and he hasn't heard a thing from Ryan. It's supposed to be a relief but why was it not the case? Was she missing him? She immediately snapped out of it, denying the possibility.
Idle and confused, she wandered her gaze around the place in quest for nothing in particular. It was just a plain restaurant but the food was amazing. Lost in that, her eyes suddenly met someone unexpected at the entrance.
It was Doris.
The tall brunette was in the company of two ladies with similar fashion sense as hers. Her smile was radiant as they made their way towards an empty table right across Claire's. Doris' gaze darkened fast when her eyes met Claire's, showing some hidden irritation.
However, she granted great civility to Claire by marching towards her. "Hello, there," she greeted with a smile.
It was impossible for Claire to determine whether that smile was real or plastic, but it didn't matter.
It's evident they each couldn't stand the other, and the reason was almost clear by now. At least for Claire it was.
"Oh, hi." She returned the smile, brightly. "Small world I see," she added, masking her similar distaste towards the brunette.
"I agree," remarked Doris. "Such a crazy coincidence that I keep running into you wherever I go. It seems like we share the same taste in everything." Her voice was sardonic.
"Perhaps," Claire uttered. "But it could be one or two—it can't be everything."
"I hope so." Doris smiled, creasing a sly eyebrow. "Because it so happens that I hate sharing," she said crossly, clearly sending a threat.
Or a warning? Claire couldn't tell.
"Well, good luck on that. At least we can still share the restaurant, no?" Claire graced her a shameless glance, caring so little that she fucked her man right in his ravish penthouse just two nights ago.
She was just going to kneel down and ask God for forgiveness for this. But not now, she thought inwardly.
"The restaurant?" Doris muttered, smirking. "Oh, yes, it's a great place."
"And I work around here," Claire reminded her, "so it's not really a coincidence now, is it?" She shrugged.
"Right, I forgot that you work at Starlight. Obviously you must come here a lot," said Doris and at the same time Jorge found his way back, cutting their banter. "I see you have company." She glances at Jorge.
"Indeed I have," Claire replied coolly.
"Am I interrupting?" Jorge asked, standing behind Claire, and across from Doris, who looked a little amused at the sight of the two together.
"Not at all. I was only saying hi to Claire," Doris said, her smile barely touching her lips. "It's me who seems to be interrupting here, I guess." Her eyes shone.
Frowning, Jorge stared quizzically between the two ladies. Something wasn't right, he probably thought. However, he seemed to have absolutely no idea on what was going on.
"Well, too bad. I'd love to continue chatting but we need to go home." Claire stood up, fixing her black bodycon dress, the same one Ryan bought her.
Man, she loved how it hugged her succulent body, exposing a bit of her fine cleavage, and her beautiful legs were out on the display, the dress length only reaching her lower thighs.
"Home?" Doris flushed.
"Yeah, that's what I said." Claire huffed a small laugh, imagining the ideas lurching in Doris 'mind as though she lived in it.
Perhaps Jorge had become her lover in the Director's psyche. How silly!
"Sure, that's no problem with me." Doris smiled. "We can always finish where we stopped, Claire. Good evening to you both."
Where they stopped? What was the meaning of that? Claire was alerted.
"Good evening to you, too," she replied and Doris left with a curt nod.
"Let's go?" Jorge asked softly. Claire nodded and both made an exit.
Outside Claire exhaled heavily as though she'd been holding her breath forever. Her heart was racing in her chest, guilt-charged. How could she talk to Doris like that? She walked pensively towards Jorge's car, pondering. Really she had turned into a bitch.
But was she going to give up on Ryan? No, she was supposed to have forgotten him by now! Chaos invaded her heart and brain, waging war. Doris's tone of voice was full of sarcasm earlier. She was being nasty without being vulgar. Could it be that she knew about Ryan and her?
"Is everything okay?" Jorge asked, derailing her training of thoughts.
"Huh?" she gasped.
Jorge narrowed his eyes. "I'm asking if you're okay, because you look like you've seen a ghost," he repeated, laughing indulgently.
God! Now she was being obvious, wasn't she?
"Oh, yeah, I am okay." Her smile was elusive. "Are you going home early today? Because I am."
"Yeah, I'm done for the day," Jorge answered.
"Okay, let's go." They both hopped in and the ride commenced.
"Who was that lady earlier? You two seemed to know each other, but then you looked like enemies," Jorge, who had been silent the entire time in contemplation, finally spoke.
Claire giggled at that, amused despite the trouble she was in. "Why would you think we're enemies?" she asked, glancing at him.
Jorge shrugged, his expression soft. "I don't know. I just sensed some kind of . . . tension?" he remarked, and Claire winced. He chuckled. "Well, I feel like I've seen her before. Who is she?"
"Maybe you have," Claire answered, reclining back in her seat with a sigh. "Her name is Doris. She works at SK—PR Director or something? I don't know."
"Oh, at SK," Jorge muttered thoughtfully.
"Yeah, but I've only met her recently," Claire said vaguely.
"And yet you two looked like rivals?" John grinned.
"Oh please," said Claire, flushing. "I'm not sure what you saw to think that way, but I assure you it's not. Why would we be?"
Because she was sleeping with her man? Her subconscious wasn't dumb not to remind her.
"Okay." Jorge called it off and another moment of silence took place until they pulled into a traffic jam.
"Do you have a girlfriend, Jorge?" Claire suddenly asked him.
He looked startled. "Um, no. I had one but we broke up not long ago. What about you?" he asked with a smile.
"Me?" Claire chucked ridiculously. "I don't think I have one. I mean, I don't have one," she said.
What a complex life she had! She mentally laughed at herself.
"I don't get it." Jorge laughed briefly. "You sound like you're not sure or something. Is it a complicated kind of relationship? Because I know such things exist." He was ingenuous about it.
Perhaps a sex partner, Claire thought, and his name was Ryan Stevens.
"It's not complicated, I just don't have one." She decided to be subtle.
"That's odd," Jorge murmured under his breath. "Are all the guys in your office blind or something?"
"Jorge!" Claire exclaimed, and he laughed hard. "What are you insinuating now, huh?" She was coy.
"Nothing, Claire, don't get me wrong," he told her. "We're siblings, blood related or not. I just think it's odd that you're single." His voice was serious.
"Why?" Claire scowled, bemused.
"Because you're smart, you're beautiful and most of all . . . you're kind. So those dudes should definitely check their eyesight." He smiled softly.
"I'm flattered, I guess," Claire uttered, recalling similar words coming from Ryan. She was definitely missing him.
Unbidden, the day she kissed Ryan for the first time flashed in her mind. Would things be different if she'd controlled her hormones that evening? She wondered, imagining her previous life before meeting him.
At last they arrived home. Claire rushed into her room for a warm and relaxing bath. It'd been one hell of a mental exhaustion for a day, especially after seeing Doris at the restaurant. Closing her eyes, she let the warm water take her anxiety away.
"You look more beautiful this way," he said gently, caressing her breasts with his naughty, expert hands. "So beautiful." His thumb rubbed her nipple, arousing it.
Claire threw her head on his shoulder, moaning. His breath on her skin was shuddering. She could feel his erection poking her butt, throbbing readily as he’s seated behind her, possessing her body as his. Oh she loved his presence—all of him.
"Have you been fucked in the tub before?" he asked, his voice hoarse, kissing her neck sensually.
"No," Claire breathed, her breath ragged.
"Good. I'm going to fuck you in here. But first let's see what we can do with this." His finger suddenly eased in her sex, deeply.
"Ah!" Claire snapped abruptly out of this lascivious fantasy, panting softly, her face sweaty.
What the fuck! Claire snapped abruptly while panting heavily. She was still in the bathroom.
"Fuck, Claire! Stop thinking of him!" she groaned and rose up to finally leave the tub.
An hour later she was in bed, lying on her tummy, rechecking all of Ryan's messages and their many exchanges. A smile escaped her lips, and realized she was extremely missing him. Calling him became her temptation. But no, she wasn't going to give in to her desires.
A call from Gena saved her from herself. It was already dark and the series she was watching had begun tiring her. She hardly paid attention to it anyway, for her mind was already occupied by something else. Stretching and yawning, she picked the call.
"Hi, sweetie," Gena uttered.
"Hey. You good?" Claire asked with a faint smile. She sat up, combing her messed up hair with her fingers.
"I'm fine. Actually I'm hyped!" Gena screamed on the other end, urging Claire's eyebrow to rise heavenward. "I'm super hyped!" she added gleefully.
"Okay, at least some good news for a change." Claire grinned, her mood lifted. "Shoot. What happened?" she demanded.
"Harry invited me over to his place tomorrow, and I'm so freaking out. I mean, both good and freaking out!" Gena said, her voice high pitched.
"Alright, let's start with the bad freak." Claire shifted slowly towards her bedroom couch. "Why are you freaking out? It's not like you've regained your virginity or something, that you're scared it might hurt in case the hot chocolate makes an indecent move."
She could imagine the Asian eyes rolling at the remark.
"I know," said Gena. "It's just . . . I don't know, Claire. I'm suddenly nervous."
"Of what?" The swimming pool and garden caught Claire's eyes through the window, relaxing her capricious mind for a change.
"What if I'm moving too fast? I think I'm getting too involved with him. He's nice, really, very nice that I feel like he's too good for me," Gena said, and it was so unusual of her.
"Stop!" Claire snapped, sitting straight. "You're the most self-confident girl I know. You never had this insecurity thing before, so what's the matter now? And what do you mean he's too good for you, huh? You're the most gorgeous woman I know, in and out, so no man is too good for you, you get it?"
"I don't know." Gena chuckled, a small relief reflected in her voice.
"You're incredible, Gena Montero. And I'm sure Harry knows that, too." Claire smiled fondly.
"You think so?" Gena whispered.
"I know so. Because you're my best friend . . . the greatest one I've ever had, and you're amazing as a woman. Don't ever doubt yourself." Claire was genuine with her words.
"Oh, sweetie. I'm already feeling the overflowing confidence," Gena muttered.
Was she crying? Claire grinned.
"Good. Now stop talking shit," she snapped.
"Okay," Gena said, her sass restored to its usual glory. "I knew I should talk to you, because between us, you have turned to be a real expert recently."
They shared a long and rib-cracking laughter.
"Okay, guess what," Claire uttered.
"Should I get the popcorn?" Gena teased.
"Shut up." Claire laughed even harder.
"Okay, tell me."
"Well, I met Doris today." Claire began to narrate her horror story. "Girl, I think she knows."
"What? Do you think she has snooped?" Gena gasped.
"I'm positive!" Claire said. "She was definitely sending me a message during her speech. Like she really hates my guts."
"Oh girl, what will you do?
Was there anything to be done?
"Nothing." Claire shrugged. "I guess she won't need to worry anymore, because I'm back to my senses now."
"Meaning?"
"I'm done with Ryan."
"Are you? Are you really?" Gena prompted.
"Yes, Gena. I'm certain this time," Claire said. "And may God help me." She laughed at her own statement.