SIX
Bruno was awestruck to see Claire. He couldn't hesitate swooping her for a tight hug, ignoring his staff and whoever was present in the restaurant. Moreover, some kind of respite was evident on his face upon beholding her healthy look, indicating safety.
"I was worried about you? Did you manage to get home without any trouble that day?" he asked, making Claire sigh at the memory. He frowned. "Why? Did something happen?" His voice was gentle and apprehensive.
"Well, it's a long story," Claire told him while taking a seat. "Are you going somewhere?" she asked, realizing that he was carrying a backpack as though ready for some trip.
"Um, not quite. I was about to go home when you arrived." Bruno slid the strap of his backpack off his shoulder.
"Oh, in that case, I can just drop some other time. I’ve come unannounced anyway," Claire said.
"Some other time, when? Don't be silly." Bruno took a seat, his grin impish. He was in khaki shorts and a white button-up shirt. Simple and handsome. "In fact, I have a better plan." His grin widened.
"Which is?" Claire's reaction was wary, and Bruno laughed heartily at it.
However, she wasn't afraid of anything he was going to propose, but rather unready to be dismayed by his expected spontaneity.
"Let's go home," he said, and her eyes widened. "Chill out, Claire. I mean, my real home where my family stays—not here." He was amused.
"Oh?" Claire chuckled at herself. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was imagining," she breathed.
Bruno shook his head to the sides, utterly entertained. "At least you're admitting that you were imagining something. Did you think I was taking you to my layer? But even if I was, what's wrong with that?"
Everything. How could she end up in a single man's home—a total stranger—and just the two of them? Wasn't this an attraction for disaster? Claire could never trust these handsome creatures called men. Not even their charm.
"Um, forget about that. I don't think I can go to your home, Bruno. I only wanted to say hi before I go back to the city," she told him honestly. "I have a job interview tomorrow."
"Oh, is that so?" Bruno was thoughtful, scratching his chin. And suddenly his eyes gleamed up. "Just one hour." He flashed a bright smile.
"Huh?" Claire glanced up at him as he rose up to his feet.
"Just one hour and you'll go back. My house is not far from here, and the food will be great. I know you love eating." He winked, and Claire flushed immediately, feeling coy. "Come on, let's go!" He held her hand, urging her to stand up.
"Okay, Bruno." Claire couldn't hold her laughter, for he wasn't the type to be rejected easily. "Just one hour," she articulated.
"Yes, ma'am." Bruno grinned.
Jeez! Claire couldn't understand where he got the energy to be playful and care-free at all times. He was a happy person, clearly it showed, but she couldn't trust his constant smile.
Everyone has a dark something, she always believed.
They slipped into a red Audi and buckled up. Pulling the car with ease, Bruno was soon on the road and their ride commenced. He put on some music as they slid away.
"Why do I feel like you need me for this visit to your house?" Claire muttered, gazing at him. His smile faltered a bit. "Am I right? Is there anything I should be aware of?"
He laughed indulgently. "What makes you think that way?" he asked casually.
Because she could recognize his hesitation at the mention of family. The same kind she'd personally show whenever speaking of hers to anyone but Gena.
"Nothing. I can be pretty judgmental sometimes," she said, taking an easy sigh.
"I haven't been home for more than two years," Bruno said, his voice laced with rue. Claire didn't say a thing; she only stared at him. "The day I met you was the day I returned from Barcelona where I've been staying." He glanced at her.
"Oh, I see," Claire uttered softly. She just couldn't understand something; hence she asked, "And why does it scare you to be back? Are you afraid of something?"
His jaw ticked, and his hands tightened around the steering. He was tense, Claire could feel it, and even see it, at the whiteness in his knuckles and the slim sweat in his temples.
"I'd rather not talk about it," he said evasively, and then smiled tightly at her.
"Okay." Claire nodded, smiling back.
Their ride was taciturn from this point. Claire was lost into landscapes sliding along, quite a marvel, the heels and green grass staying in harmony. She smiled, recalling how she hated them during that rainy evening.
And while doing so, the car had turned into a dusty road amid the splendid fields of orange trees. Her eyes awoke, fully bright and wider. She knew this way, she thought, and the memory flashed back without a fog.
"Wait," she uttered, glancing at Bruno briskly. "Is this the way to your house?" she asked urgently.
"Yes," Bruno answered. "Why? You look like you've seen a ghost." His lips curled into a small grin.
Indeed, Claire mumbled in her head. It's the same road heading to the Stevens' mansion. Ryan drove her that afternoon through these same orange fields and her eyes couldn't stop admiring the tranquility.
"Are you related to the Stevens? I mean, Mr. Stevens and his grandson, Ryan?" Claire asked.
"Um, yeah," Bruno affirmed. "Mr. Stevens, as you call him, is my grandfather . . . and Ryan is my brother. How do you know them?" He was stunned, smiling bemusedly as the car neared the large gates of the house.
Holy shit! How was this possible? Claire's eyes were broader and rattled. Brothers? Oh God.
"Well, it's a bit of a long story," she replied vaguely, finding it disturbing.
"I have enough time to listen," Bruno said with a bashful smile that lightened his deep brown eyes.
"Okay, I almost had an accident that evening after leaving your restaurant," she told him flatly, and shock was plastered on his face in milliseconds. "Your grandfather . . . I mean, your brother, Ryan, was the one who helped me. Well, both of them. So I spent the night at your house and—"
"Hold on," Bruno cut her off, halting the car stoutly in front of the gate, waiting for someone to open. "You had an accident? How?" He looked worried.
Another sigh escaped Claire. "It was raining, right? I couldn't get a taxi or anything so I walked my way through it," she said and explained the rest of her tale.
"Shit! I'm so sorry, Claire. I shouldn't have let you leave like that," Bruno said, remorse filled in his voice. His face turned pale at the thought of anything horrible happening to her while he could've easily prevented it. "I'm really sorry."
"Hey, it's alright." Claire cackled up. "I'm in one piece, as you can see, and it's not your fault that nature decided to punish me for my stubbornness."
Bruno smiled lightly. "I'm glad you're fine." He sounded sincere.
The metal gates slid apart and the doorman walked out to regard them. Scrolling the window down, Bruno's sight was indeed a surprise to the rugged man in jeans and polo shirt, wearing a hat that he quickly took off.
"Bruno?" he gasped, eyes bigger.
Claire smiled at the dramatic shrug of the shoulders Bruno made. He was a clown, she thought to herself.
"Long time no see, German. Hope you're good, man," he replied, fist bumping with the gateman whose name appeared to be German.
"Yes. Wow! Welcome back! Um, hi, ma'am." German was immediately comprehensive of Claire's presence. His gaze wavered as though trying to recollect something.
"Hi." Claire smiled.
They wandered inside. The house was as beautiful as Claire remembered. Martha was the first person they came across, and she almost dropped the tray carrying a glass of juice.
"Yes, it's me, Nanny. I'm not dead yet," Bruno said, and the old lady casted the tray aside on the console table, her eyes wet. "Oh, not the tearworks, please." He pulled for a warm hug.
Wow! What was happening? Claire was in the dark, standing at the corner. It seemed like they were dying to see Bruno, and yet he was so afraid to see them. What a mystery.
"Martha, when will I get that juice, woman? Is it arriving from America or something?" Mr. Steven's grumpy voice echoed, nearing them, and they all stayed attentive. "Can't you see this heat—" He was approaching slowly when his speech paused.
His gaze held Bruno's, stupefied.
"Grandpa," Bruno breathed, tears brimming in his eyes.
Claire's eyes shifted between the old man and his protégée grandson. Silence blanketed the atmosphere; a pin drop would make noise.
Why was she here again? Clearly she could've chosen a better moment to visit than this one. It looked emotional, intimate even, and much to her dismay another person joined in.
"I'll be back this evening, we'll talk then," Ryan uttered, frowning, his cellphone on the ear.
Claire beheld his terrific features instantly, holding her breath.
"What's going on here?" Ryan asked calmly, unable to understand the ruckus. He was confused. "Later, please." He hung up, the call seemingly annoying for his taste.
However, his eyes turned beautifully wild at the sight of his brother.
"Hi, Bro." Bruno grinned.
"You bastard," Ryan muttered, his tone indescribable.
Bruno looked sadly at him, the young boy in him manifested through the twinkle in his eyes. It was emotional, but Claire couldn't understand a thing until the two men grabbed each other for a tight hug.
"Um, I need to use the restroom," Claire told Martha in a low voice.
"Okay, Claire." The old lady smiled, hardly paying attention to her as the joyous smile accompanied her faint tears. She looks very happy.
When Claire returned everyone was in the living room. She couldn't stop wondering about Bruno and his situation, but Ryan's intense gaze deranged her from the thought.
"Hey, Claire, come in," Bruno urged, and both Ryan and Mr. Stevens were stunned.
"Do you know each other?" Mr. Stevens asked, smiling softly at Claire
"Yeah, we met recently," Bruno replied.
"On the same day I met you," Claire explained, and other details followed.
"What a coincidence," remarked Mr. Stevens, his voice teasing. He drank a bit of his juice. "How are you, Claire? I'm so happy you came to visit."
"I'm fine, Mr. Stevens. What about you?" Claire sat next to Bruno and across from Ryan.
He wasn't uttering a syllable.
Claire spent the whole afternoon with them. They talked, they laughed, and she was able to learn that their mother died about two years ago.
Around six it was time to go. As much as she loved their company, she had a bus to catch and an interview for tomorrow; even though it was a mere formality.
"Thank you once again, Mrs. Stevens," Claire said as they all headed out.
"No problem. Consider this your home, okay? Now I'm sure you can make good friends with these two," Mr. Stevens remarked, and Claire smiled faintly.
With Bruno, yes. She was already friends with him.
But with Ryan, she could never see herself as his friend.
Even right now, Ryan was already indulging into his cell phone, a little frown of concentration between his eyebrows.
"Going to the city?" he finally asked her, abandoning the phone. Claire nodded affirmatively. "I'll give you a ride," he told her, his voice dry.
Did someone piss him off? Claire wondered.
"Um, sure," she agreed. "Mr. Stevens, it was a pleasure. Thank you so much," she told the old man over a quick hug.
"It was me who had a pleasure, this house is always boring," he remarked, and a little laughter followed.
She then turned to Bruno, who was staring expectantly at him, his smile on the face, beaming.
"So, Mr. Photographer," she muttered, and could feel Ryan's subtle gaze towards them. He was talking with Mr. Stevens. "I'm going now." She sighed.
"Don't be a stranger," Bruno breathed, holding her hand.
She blushed. "I won't. And you gotta get out of this place once in a while, huh. Call me if you drop by in the city."
"Okay, beautiful," Bruno uttered while pulling her closer. His smile was bright. "Be good, huh? And thanks for coming." He kissed her on the cheek.
"You, too." She grinned and turned her toes.
"Done?" Ryan inquired.
"Mmm." Claire bobbed her head.
He walked past Bruno. "We'll talk later," he muttered and the young brother nodded his head reverently.
Claire and Ryan slipped into a black Vogue and the ride commenced. Now that they were alone, Claire had no idea on how to go on about it. She was to be stuck with him for at least two hours, and they hadn't spoken a word up to now.
"Do you come here often?" Ryan broke the silence.
What a miracle!
"No, this is the second time in years," she answered. "And you?" Her eyes were on his face.
"Maybe once or twice a month." He eyed her this time, only fleetingly, before fixing his eyes back on the road.
"I see," Claire uttered, feeling like she was getting dumb unable to think of any topic to broach.
He was so hard to talk to, quite different from his brother.
They hardly spoke from this point. Claire took a nap throughout the way, only to realize they were already in the city—and it was dark. Flashing her eyes open, she discerned that the car had stopped, and Ryan was on the phone once again.
Damn, did he ever take a break from his beloved phone? She scowled while rubbing her tired eyes.
"Okay, tomorrow at eight sharp," Ryan said and hung up. "Are you up?" he asked Claire, his voice cooler, eyes fixed on his phone.
"Yeah, I—" Claire yawned audibly, stretching.
Ryan creased his eyebrow, a lingering smile on his face. "Where do you live?" he asked and stared at her after shoving his phone away.
"I'll just grab a taxi, thanks," she said crisply.
"A taxi?" He squinted his eyes. "Why? I can just drive you."
"No!" she answered stoutly. He gaped. Damn! "Well, I—" She stammered.
Why was she taking a taxi? She asked herself.
"You don't want me to know your home, right?" Ryan uttered, mocking her. "It's okay, you can go."
"But, I didn't say that," Claire argued, and he lifted his eyebrow as he always did. "Okay, I'll get going. Thanks for the ride," she said while grabbing her handbag, flustered.
"Okay," Ryan said. "But if I want to know where you live, I can find out in a second, just so you know." He was smiling.
"What?" Claire snorted. "I'll report you as a stalker if you try. Besides, why would you do that? Are you attracted to me, Ryan?"
How bold, Claire. She firmed her eyes, nevertheless.
"Have a goodnight, Claire," Ryan said, her question ignored.
"Jerk." She slipped away from his car.
"What did you call me?" Ryan queried, laughing.
"Handsome." She grinned, sarcasm evident on her face. "Bye." She slammed the door.
Smiling, Ryan replied, "Bye."
He watched after her until the taxi pulled over and she slid in.
Claire frowned as it moved past his car, and their eyes collided. "What's his deal?" she muttered, and wondered why it was important thinking of him.