Chapter 92 - The Utter Wetness of it All (1/2)

Ever since he closed the door, Gabriel has been standing by the glass wall, staring at how clouds form over the city. It's going to rain, Jesus. Dark rain clouds tower over their world, like the overfed tentacles of some floating monster. Gabriel grinds his teeth: there's Michelle coming over tomorrow, there's Miguel trying to get in his way, there's Claire getting heartbreakingly beautiful by the day—which of these pressing concerns should he attend to?

Hundreds of years ago, a priest developed a simple way to know which is true: the simplest solution is most likely the right one. Or if there are many explanations about a single thing, the simplest explanation is most probably the correct one. It's called ”Occam's razor,” and Gabriel is thinking about it now, having learned it in college years ago. He's always used it when interviewing people, or talking to his subordinates. It's not perfect, but so far, it has been a good help in helping him make his decisions.

He's trying to use Occam's razor now in deciding what he should do first? He tries to feel it in his heart, in his gut, and what he feels tells him one thing: Solve the Claire Monteverde problem.

He would have solved it, but he felt it was too immature. He'd only known Claire for a week, and now, he seems to be head over heels for her. Is this feeling real? Is this real enough to be out in the open? Occam's razor tells him one thing: yes.

But add to that is what he overheard earlier: ”I won't fall in love with the person I work for,” Claire had said. So what did the past few days mean? Was she just playing? Or was she just trying to let him because he's the boss, the employer, and Claire the vulnerable, desperate job seeker.

Now it begins raining; the big, fat drops of rain bombard the glass wall by his face. He gazes at it, at the world being blurred behind a curtain of water. The torrential drops seem to accentuate the emotional gravitas of this moment. And for an instant, he entertains a crazy thought: what if he tells her he loves her? Like today? Like before this day ends, regardless of the circumstances?

He gazes at the wall clock, and the hour surprises even him—it's not possible that four hours have passed! It's almost near punch-out time. He wonders why Claire didn't even knock and ask him about how he's doing? He's the boss, his secretary should always be checking on him, right?

Is she even at her desk?

Curious, Gabriel quietly opens his door just a little bit, just to take a peek at Claire's desk out in front of his office. But no one's occupying the workstation, and there's no one else around. People must have taken an early out on account of the rain. But still not contented, Gabriel stoops down to look below Claire's desk, where he sees the opened boxes of the gadgets he'd given her earlier, and her bag, an Hermes that must have been provided by Cassandra as part of Claire's outfit for the day. And there's the…

”Are you looking for something?” a voice says from behind.

”Oh, I'm just checking if my secretary's still…” Gabriel blinks, and looks behind her. His jaw drops. ”Oh, Cla—Bella! I thought you're gone.”

Claire smiles oh so sweetly; inwardly, she's laughing, as she finds this hilarious. Only a few hours earlier Gabriel found her in the same situation. Now the table has turned. ”You know I always let you know whenever I'm going out. You'll always know where I am, Gabriel.”

”Yeah, uhh, well…” Gabriel hesitates. He sighs. ”Can you come inside the office. There's something I want to tell you.”

”Sure,” Claire says. She follows him into his office.

Gabriel paces about, as though trying to frame the words in his mind before blurting it out to her. Claire just stands there, waiting for him to say something. Meanwhile, behind Gabriel is the breathtaking view of the city being bombarded by what seems to be a rainstorm.

”It looks lovely,” Claire says.

”What?” Gabriel is yanked from his thoughts.

”I meant the view behind you” she says, gesturing toward the floor-to-ceiling glass wall. ”Doesn't the rain make you feel romantic?” She smiles.

Gabriel gazes at her. He wants to say a million things. But foremost of those million things is one single line: Do you really think you won't ever fall in love with me?

But at the last moment, the words don't escape his mouth and stays there, deep in his heart, among the growing pile of things left unsaid.

”So what is it?” Claire says. ”You're supposed to say something, right?”