Chapter 70 - The Fall of the Ice Queen (2/2)

Dale gazes at her and wonders if Miss Claire Monteverde's under some kind of spell or something. Maybe some bad juju. But instead of repeating his question, he decides to go along with it. Maybe he'll try to call up Mr. Tan once Miss Claire's safely tucked away in her penthouse suite. ”It will be my pŀėȧsurė, Miss Claire.”

Once inside the suite, Claire's demeanor suddenly changes. As though she remembers who she is, where she is. ”Thank you, Dale,” she says calmly. ”You can leave me now.”

”But Miss Claire,” Dale protests. ”You don't seem—”

”I'm fine, Dale,” she says. ”I'm better than fine. I'm super fine. I'm supercalifragilisticexpialidocious fine.”

Yeah, right, Dale thinks. You say something like that, then you're the opposite of being fine. But he plays along, promising himself to call up Mr. Tan once he's out of her hair. ”Alrighty, Miss Claire. Just press zero for ȧssistance, as always.”

Dale is supposed to say the rest of his concierge spiel but Claire has already shut the door to his face.

Standing in the middle of the living room, Claire quietly takes off her blonde wig. She looks at it, as though it's the first time she's seeing it. Then she tosses it over to a corner. She walks toward her favorite place in the suite, the gorgeous Jacuzzi bathroom, the one with breathtaking views of the city below. She climbs into the Jacuzzi and sits in the middle of it, still with her wet dress on. She turns on the water, gazing wistfully at the city's gray, rain-soaked skyline.

Meanwhile, Dale's on the phone as soon as he reaches the receptionist desk. But Gabriel wouldn't seem to pick up. ”That's odd,” he mutters to himself. ”He said to call this direct line for anything that concerns Miss Claire.” He makes a few more tries, then gives up. He then tries to call up Miss Cassandra, but his office phone on the second level of the Residence just rings and rings; Dale doesn't remember if she had gone out.

”This must be a bad day for things concerning Miss Claire,” he thinks. Something really must have happened. He makes mental note of visiting Claire and asking how she's doing later, before dinner time.

At around 6 PM, just as when Dale's about to go up the elevator to check on her, he hears a cheerful voice coming from the lobby. He cancels the lift and retraces his steps back to the reception area.

”Oh, hey,” Miguel says cheerfully, looking every bit like the man-god from wherever they produce gorgeous rich men. ”Is Claire here yet?”

Dale hesitates. If he answers yes, he might inadvertently be allowing an intrusion into Miss Claire's privacy at a time when she probably needs to be alone the most. But then again, this is Miguel Tan, not just any other visitor. And maybe he will do, in the absence of his brother. Maybe Miguel could help decode the funk in which Claire seems to be in.

”Miss Claire's in her penthouse suite,” Dale says. ”Probably sleeping. But I can check her availability for you.”

”Sure,” Miguel says. ”Please tell her if she'd like to join me at the lounge. There's something important I must tell her.”

Dale's eyebrows very slightly arc at that. Since when did Gabriel Tan's newcomer brother has been appointed to be the bearer of ”important” news? But then again, Dale tries to remind himself, this is Miguel Tan. It would be foolish to be on Miguel's bad side. So Dale, flashing his best smile, just says, ”I'll do my very best.”