Chapter 110 - The Second Helping of Eggs (2/2)

She avoids looking at him. Instead, she focuses on what she's doing: whipping up the hollandaise sauce, while making sure the bacon is fried at just the right crispness. The eggs are a bit tricky to cook perfectly for this dish, but Claire has her egg poaching skills down pat, thanks to her mom, who had let her prepare breakfast even as a child growing up.

”Are you going back to the office?” he says.

”Yes, I should.” Claire deftly puts the bacon and eggs on the open-topped halves of a muffin, taking care not to ruin the presentation. ”Maybe after I have served you your eggs, Your Highness.”

Miguel laughs. ”This is mad skillz, Claire. You cook well. Maybe one of these days you can let me taste some more of your culinary specialties.”

She shrugs. ”Maybe. If we have time.” She dribbles some Hollandaise sauce over the eggs. ”There. Taste it.”

”I've already tasted it in my heart.”

She grimaces. ”Stop being corny and actually put this food in your mouth, Miguel, while it's still warm. I have a culinary reputation to uphold.”

”Okay, okay,” he says playfully, upraising a hand. He forks a morsel into his mouth, and immediately Miguel's face contorts in ecstasy. ”My God, my mouth just had an ȯrġȧsm,” he says, shoveling more into his mouth and making short work of Claire's eggs Benedict. ”I've never thought eggs can be this tasty!”

”Well, my mom is an expert. She has tasted a lot of eggs so she knows how to handle them.”

Miguel chokes as he tries not to laugh; the image of Claire's mom with a lot of eggs flashes in his mind for some reason.

The food is gone in minutes. ”Can I have more?”

”Sorry, I only have time for that serving,” Claire says, smiling this time.

They overhear Gabriel getting a bit animated over the phone. ”Must be his vice presidents again,” Miguel mutters, shaking his head. ”He should just fire all of them and replace the whole bunch with actually competent ones.”

”Why do you say so,” she says, as she cleans up the counter.

”Either that or one of these ȧssholes betrayed my brother,” he says. ”I don't believe they didn't know Michelle owned that company they merged with.”

”That's my gut feeling, too,” she says. ”But I don't feel like it's my place to tell him.”

”Well, you got in here because he trusts you,” he says. ”Next time something nags you from within, spill it out. Never mind the consequences. Knowing my brother, he'd appreciate the honesty.” Miguel stands up. ”Maybe I should head out. Aren't you going, too?”

”I am,” she says, as they walk out into the living area.

Gabriel is pacing the room, speaking animatedly to whoever is the poor chap on the other end of that line. Miguel just makes hand signals to him, indicating he's going out. Gabriel nods vigorously, but when he sees Claire going out, too, he puts the phone against his ċhėst. ”You're leaving, too?”

”There are some pending stuff at the office,” she says. ”And I need to appease the dragon lady, see what she's up to.”

Gabriel nods. ”That's brilliant. Thank you for the eggs—”

”—Fantastic eggs!” Miguel says from the door.

Did she serve Miguel eggs, too? But Gabriel has no time to further explore the question. ”Okay, if you're leaving, what about a goodbye kiss?”

Claire kisses him. Miguel turns away, unable to bear watching it. ”Take care of yourself here, Mr. Tan,” she says. ”See you later.”

”Couldn't wait,” he says, grinning. But all his elation vanishes when he resumes speaking on the phone.

They're already walking on the hallway but they could still hear Gabriel's voice, rising and falling depending on his temper. ”He'll never change,” she says.

”He is what he is,” Miguel says. ”Let me drive you back.”

”Oh, Dean's waiting for me.”

Miguel's is momentarily confused. ”Who's Dean?”

She laughs. ”The chauffeur. Remember?”

”Oh,” he says. ”But you can tell him you're with me and—”

”Don't bother, Miguel, I can manage,” she says, tapping him on the arm.

The elevator descends. Floor by floor by floor. Miguel gazes at the numbers. ”I'm going to your office, anyway. It would be more efficient if I'd drive you.”

She says nothing. She just smiles. When the doors slide open, she simply says, ”See you later then?”

Then off she goes to wherever Dean must be parked. Miguel watches her walk away. He realizes that lately, all he seems to do is watch Claire walking away from him. When would be the time when he'd see her walking towards him, and settling in his arms? Maybe not. Never. Leave her alone, he tells himself as he walks toward his parking spot. ”Leave her alone. She's your brother's woman,” he actually says out loud as he eases into the driver's seat of his Aston Martin. But the other half of his brain wants him to scream, ”I'm dying in this pain, Claire! I want you with all my heart!”

A car stops right beside him. The window slides down. ”You drive safely, okay?” It's Claire, her face, her sweetness almost makes him say, ”Why don't you choose me, instead? Why can't you love me?” But he keeps it all inside. Instead, what he says is, ”Yeah, you too.” He even smiles the fakest smile. ”See you later, okay?”

She smiles. The car drives away, leaving him holding the straps of his seatbelt, the fake smile frozen on his face, inside his fancy sports car, sitting still like the world's biggest loser idiot.