TWENTY
Sunday turned too boring for Claire. Decidedly, she and Gena met in the afternoon for a little shopping to clear her head—the distraction she needed to forget him.
"How was your date with Harry last night? He took you to his place, didn't he?" asked Claire while going through some handbags beautifully displayed in her regular boutique.
"Ugh, don't even remind me," Gena replied with rolled eyes. She was having the best champagne glass provided by the boutique as a token. "It was horrible," she added, sitting cross-legged after a long sip.
Claire scowled, staring at Gena over her shoulder. "Horrible? Why?" She returned the first handbag and grabbed another one.
"You wouldn't guess, my friend. That guy took me to his parent's house, can you imagine? Not his place! His parent's!"
"Oh wow!" Claire was baffled, her mouth hanging open.
"You have no idea how rattled I felt when I stood before his perfect family," Gena said. "His mom was something else, Claire. She ate me alive with just a single glance."
"Oh boy!" Claire halted her quest for a handbag and gave Gena her full attention. The boutique was silent as they were currently the only customers. "Was she evil? Like . . . Ursula type of evil?"
"Um, not really. She was just a bit . . . I don't know how to put it. Like she didn't approve of me, but yet she had no heart to say it out loud," Gena said, unsure. "I mean, she was scary: the way she talked, scrutinized me and stuff? I felt like I lost my way home."
"Jeez! That's Terrible. But they weren't nasty, were they? What about his dad? And siblings? Does he have siblings?" Claire proceeded with her handbags as Gena took another sip of champagne.
"Well, his dad was cool. I liked him. He does have a sister, a little brat kind of sister, but she's not a threat," Gena said, and they both laughed at the last remark.
"Shouldn't you be happy, though? At least he's decent enough to introduce you to his family, right?" Claire asked.
"I was not ready for that, Claire," Gena argued strenuously. "You should've seen how his obnoxious mother scowled at me from head to toe, as if I'm from the Amazon! I think she never liked me one bit."
"Oh please!" Claire laughed, fully aware of Gena's exaggeration at times. "You're just scared of how she thinks of you and it's only natural."
"Maybe." Gena sighed. "And may you please stop laughing already? You just don't know how terrible my night was, do you? Meeting the parents can definitely become a trauma."
"Well . . . I can't imagine your face when you found out it was actually your in-laws' place. But then again, I think they were just as startled as you are. I'm pretty sure Harry didn't tell them beforehand."
"You think? Because I didn't even have the chance to ask him. I left immediately after dinner." Gena sat straight.
"Well, maybe they had no idea either," Claire probed. "Sounds to me like Harry surprised you all, so maybe you should give them a chance"
"Oh, I don't know," Gena uttered. "Found anything? How about the black bag over there?" They went on with the shopping.
"No, I don't like it. Let me check the dresses. I need more office clothes," Claire replied. "Hmm, this is yummy." She plucked a carrot one, not her usual type of color.
"Yummy indeed. Go try it while I check these boots I definitely won't be able to afford unless my super rich best friend buys me as she'd promised when she pushed me into this so-not exciting shopping of my life," Gena muttered, sighing. Claire bursted into giggles. "I'm serious, Claire. I'm broke and I shouldn't be here."
"Well, this super rich friend of yours will definitely pay for you while we find a way to get you a job. And don't worry, because Jorge said there's an opening."
"I hope with all my heart." Gena smiled faintly.
They were grabbing a bite when Gena inquired about Ryan. As always, Claire's heart flipped at the name.
"I haven't talked to him since that day," she answered ruefully.
"I see. No wonder you're so . . . that!" Gena pointed at her dull face. "Maybe because he's out of the country. He didn't tell you?" she asked.
"No, he didn't. And he had no reason to," Claire answered pensively.
The following week went uneventfully, except for one time, on Wednesday, when Bruno dropped by and Claire had lunch with him. Despite being busy with work, under a tight deadline, she still found time going way slower than she preferred.
Again she heard nothing from Ryan, and it somehow bothered her immensely without admitting it to herself. However, she kept believing it was better this way, that it's exactly the change she needed for her life to get back to normal.
Friday arrived and Claire’s mood kept being bizarre . She couldn't stand the void inside her. Something was definitely not alright no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. But suddenly the idea popped into her head while at home in the evening.
"Are you free tonight?" she asked Gena on the phone.
"Why? Wanna come over?" Gena sounded as bored as she was.
While pacing around her room, Claire replied, "I wanna go out."
"Huh?"
"Let's go to a club. Or . . . anywhere is fine," said Claire, desperate to get out of the four walls.
"What? You want to go to a club? You?" Gena exclaimed loudly.
Claire rolled her eyes. "I'm coming to your place. Wait for me." She hung up.
An hour later she was at Gena's. The Asian was totally amazed by this unusual proposition. Claire and Clubs without any conviction? Ryan was definitely driving her nuts.
"So, let me get this straight," Gena uttered, laughing. "Are you being serious about this clubbing thing?"
"Of course I am," Claire said. "I mean, it's Friday, right? Shouldn't we get off some steam or something? I'm getting depressed sitting around waiting for Monday to arrive," she added while rummaging through Gena's dresser for something to wear.
"Depressed over some Ryan?" Gena said with a provoking smile.
Ryan? Was he the only reason for her moods lately?
"I don't know, Gena, but I don't want to entertain the idea at all. All I want is something flashy and sexy to wear. Any suggestions?"
"This ought to be good," Gena murmured excitedly.
"Yeah, make fun of me!" Claire returned.
Picking and tossing, at last they found what to wear. It felt like their college life was back, and found themselves laughing until an hour or two later when they finally got ready to go.
"Wow, you're looking smoking hot, girlfriend," Gena said when Claire finished putting on a little red dress that cramped her curves into place.
"You look great yourself, Gigi," Claire returned.
"Gigi? It's been a while since I heard that name." Gena laughed.
Heavy music regarded them at the hottest club in the city. Gena was a regular—so many smiles were thrown their way. A Few shots of tequila were what forced Gena onto the dance floor that was already on fire.
Maybe this was going to keep her mind off things for a while, Claire thought as she took a seat at the bar. Smiling, she focused her attention on the bartender, who finally granted his utmost attention to her.
"Have you made up your mind? Because I'm not giving you a cherry soda with how steamy you look," the curly-haired guy behind the counter said.
"What makes you think that I want cherry soda, huh?" Claire asked smilingly. "And even if I did, what's the problem with that?" She already had a simple cocktail but she needed more.
"Everything is wrong with that. It goes against the Friday night rule," he shouted back.
"Oh, really now? Friday night rule?" Claire stared intently at him, and he was easily dragged into the sphere of her terrific eyes. “He blushed. Are you sure you haven't made it up?" she asked.
The bartender laughed aloud. "Okay, you got me there. So, what will you have?" He drew himself back, getting his working mode active.
"Surprise me," Claire said playfully, resting her head on her elbows.
The guy's eyes shone. "As you wish," he said gently and then moved away nonchalantly.
Claire decided to seize the day. Watching people mingling on the dance floor, some making out in some dark corners, others chatting and laughing while seated at the booths with faint light, it was all worth it.
And finally there was a cocktail glass in front of her, a pink liquid dressed with a slice of pineapple, umbrella, and a little straw. She arched an eyebrow at the sight of it, and admittedly it was enchanting to the eyes. The bartender shrugged.
"That was quick. What's the name?" Claire asked him.
"I call it . . ." He leaned over with a big, playful smile. "Hey, gorgeous."
"Hey gorgeous?" Claire had a soft sip without leaving his eyes. "Are you flirting with me right now?" Her voice was comprehensive.
"Not really, I'm just admiring your eyes." He pulled back to attend another customer.
"How cute," Claire uttered with a smile.
"What did you say?" he asked over his shoulder while picking glasses.
"I said you are not my type!" Claire replied loudly enough for him to hear.
He bursted out laughing, together with another guy who was sitting next to Claire. "Why not? I'm handsome, I'm cool, so why not your type?" He served a smokey whiskey to the guy, still smiling.
"Yes, you are cool," Claire replied. "But I love fire," she thought aloud, and for once she let her mind wander off to Ryan’s penthouse, where she got to experience a million emotions in one day.
That's when she felt a hand slipping around her shoulder, startling her. "Hey, stranger?" He grinned at her.
"Gosh! Nathan?" Claire beamed when she discerned that it was her boss.
Nathan took a seat casually beside her, smiling back. "You look awesome, Levy." He winced a bit to catch a proper sight of her. "I saw you earlier, and I thought it was someone else," he said. "Double scotch please!" he told the bartender.
"Um, thanks. I didn't know you also come to these kinds of places," Claire said, licking the little straw of her delicious cocktail.
"Well, I do . . . once in a while. In fact, I'm not the only one; the entire team is over there except you," Nathan replied pointedly.
Claire followed his gaze and saw the rest. "Oh, how would I know if I wasn't invited?" She pursed her lips accusingly.
"Oh, our bad." Nathan gave her an apologetic look. "They wanted to invite you but . . . you know, they thought you wouldn't want to hang out."
"Oh please. Do I look like a pastor's daughter or something?"
He laughed loudly. "Jeez, you're so funny!" And his scotch was presented.
Claire decided to go to the others and said hi. They hanged a bit, before everyone else either went for the dance floor, restroom, or anywhere else away from the booth. In the end she returned to the bar with Nathan.
After a little more talk, mainly about work and other mundane stuff while enjoying another round of drinks, Gena's phone was ringing incessantly inside her purse. Claire opted to ignore as the Asian was utterly busy at the moment.
"It seems like Lydia is already drunk," Claire remarked with a laugh as they spotted one of their colleagues dancing out of the tune.
"Indeed. I just hope no one has recorded that zombie move, or else she won't know peace on Monday when everyone shares the video in the office," Nathan remarked, and they both laughed heartily.
Again, Gena's phone rang, and Claire finally decided to check who it was. She found out it was Harry, and staring at Gena, it was impossible to let her know from all the dancing she'd been doing.
Seeing how persistent the caller was, Claire decided to answer. "Hello?" she uttered, blocking her ear. Nothing was clear—too much noise. "Hello?" she yelled louder. It was the same.
She hung up.
"It's impossible to make a decent phone call here. Perhaps you should step outside," Nathan said suggestively.
"Yeah, it was useless," Claire replied, and luckily Gena was jostling her way back. “Oh, here she is.”
"What's up, beautiful." Gena kissed her hard on the cheek, her mood at its peak.
"Jeez! I'll really appreciate this display of drunk love and all, but your lawyer has been calling you like crazy," Claire told her.
"Harry?" Gena asked sharply. Claire nodded her affirmation. "You should've just ignored him! He is the most annoying guy I know. How dare he call me now after ignoring my calls the whole day?" she snapped.
Trouble in paradise? Claire sighed.
"Okay, Gena, sit down and relax a bit. You're drunk and you should calm down." She forced her onto the barstool.
"No, I'm not drunk!" Gena lashed. "Wait, I'll show him what I really am," she muttered. "A lawyer or not, no one messes with Gena Montero! Not even the hot chocolate!" She stood up once again.
"Gena, what are you planning, huh?" Claire was appalled.
"Do you mind taking a selfie with us, Claire's boss?" Gena asked Nathan, who had been observing them in silence with a small smile.
"Um, no problem," Nathan answered hesitantly, bemused.
Claire frowned. "What are you doing, Gena?"
"Selfie!" Gena squealed. Saying no more, she placed herself between Claire and Nathan, and then snapped one picture of them.
"Oh God," Claire breathed.
"Hmm, this is good," Gena said, her hand busy on her phone. "And . . . sent!" she muttered.
***
Ryan was finally back from his trip to Cuba. As soon as the SK private jet landed, Harry was there to pick him up. Now they were driving back to the city while making small talk regarding the deal they'd just closed.
"So, we're branching to Havana, aren't we? This is exciting." Harry grinned at their triumph.
"We definitely are. Now it's time to show those old men at the next board meeting. It's on Monday, right?" Ryan glanced at him.
"Yeah. This Monday," Harry replied, his eyes constantly on his phone on the dashboard despite handling the steering wheel.
"What's wrong? Are you expecting a call?" Ryan asked him casually, his eyes on his own phone.
"No, it's nothing," Harry replied curtly, but his face spoke completely the opposite—he looked mad.
Ryan smirked. "Is it a woman?" he asked him.
"Oh come on, why would you conclude it's a woman?" Harry snapped evasively.
Ryan creased an eyebrow at that, smiling. "I've never seen that look on your face before. Are you really seeing Gena now? Seems like you two are getting serious, huh?" he teased.
"Stop kidding around!" Harry sighed, his face anxious.
"Sure. I'll stay out of it." Ryan shrugged, finding him amusing.
After a small silence, Harry uttered, "Do you know where those two women are right now?" He gazed at Ryan.
"Those two women?"
"Yes. Gena and . . . your Claire," Harry said.
"Not really. Do I have to?" Ryan frowned tightly.
"Maybe you'd love to." Harry plucked his phone and touched the screen in search of something. "Check this." He handed the phone to Ryan.
It was a picture sent some minutes ago by Gena. Ryan's brows furrowed in apprehension of what Claire was wearing, and most especially when he detected the presence of none other than Nathan Panther.
"Do you know the place?" Ryan asked monotonously.
"I think I do." Harry nodded. "It's the only club Gena goes to, from what she'd told me." He rolled his eyes.
"We're heading there," Ryan articulated.