Chapter 111 - The Highly Urgent Matter (2/2)

”I don't know. I thought you weren't serious about going back to the office.”

Claire purses her lips. ”I have a real job now, Miguel.”

”And that is?”

”Well, I take care of…things.”

”Good luck with that,” he says. ”I thought this was all pretend.”

”Will you lower your voice?” she glowers, closing the door behind her. ”A lot of the things I do here, Miguel, for your information, is stamping out the little fires.”

Suddenly, as if on cue, the floor's smoke alarm system is set off. They hear panicking people outside.

”Are we on fire?” he asks.

She motions him to relax. ”That must be Michelle. I told her to stop smoking. She just set off the detector, Jesus.”

”She's smoking here?” he says. ”Is she crazy? She's liable for damages, and to think she's the CEO of the other company that my brother now hates.”

”I know, right?” she says. ”But let her be. She's a riddle I don't want to solve right now. I have some stuff to type on my computer, some memos that Gabriel has electronically signed. He said these memos must be sent out now, especially that he's unable to come here.”

”Well, okay,” he says. ”Sorry for bothering you.” Then maybe as a last-ditch effort, he stops as they stand by the door going out. ”Would you like to have lunch with me? There's a newly opened Indian place downtown that I hear is rather sensational. Just a few blocks from here.”

Claire smiles. Really, when would Miguel realize she can't easily accept these invitations from him? She's getting weary from having to decline him, and she knows how it must feel. And yet, she must say no. There's another man in another part of town who might get hurt if she isn't careful. ”I'll take a rain check, Miguel. I just need to really get onto work.”

”But surely, you must take a break at noon and eat and refuel, right?”

”I'll probably have a sandwich at my desk, work through lunch.”

”Okay,” he says, trying to hide the depths of his disappointment. ”Okay, maybe some other day, then?”

”Absolutely,” she says, not really feeling absolute.

Claire watches Miguel walk away, hunched over in that particular gait, as though he has the burden of the world on his shoulders. She sighs. She's not insensitive; she feels him. She knows what he feels. She had been there not too long ago. But there's really nothing she can do, short of having herself cloned and giving that clone to him as a gift. But even her clone might end up not loving him, but finds herself more attracted to the older brother. That would be double-jeopardy for Miguel.

She's serious. She begins working on the memos Gabriel had told her to do, sent through Mrs. Gomez rather belatedly. Claire's good with language; she even corrects the grammar and edits the text for brevity and clarity. She has also learned very quickly the particulars of operating her computer. It's a new Mac Pro, one that their IT guy, eager to get on her good side, described in extreme detail to be ”equipped with 28 cores and powerful enough to quickly render a one-hour 4k video.”

He lost her at ”28 cores”; the ”most powerful” computer Claire had used back in college was a dual-core Windows-based machine that already seemed blazingly fast then. ”Do I really need this fancy computer?” she had asked him. ”I'm only using the word processor, or maybe make a few presentations?”

The IT guy shrugged; he's a handsome Indian man who spoke impeccable English and could easily pass off as one of those famous Bollywood actors. ”Mr. Tan said to give you the most awesome computer in the universe.” He grinned. ”He emphasized 'universe', because, he said, it's for the 'Miss Universe of his life'.” The man giggled like a love-struck teenaged kid.

Twenty-eight cores or not, Claire makes short work of the memos—five in total, addressed to different departments, which in essence are telling them to straighten the hell up because he's coming in a few days. It's a proper fire-and-brimstone scenario, a classic Gabriel Tan world shaker.

By early afternoon, she's done with all the day's work. She remembers Miguel. She had nothing but a ham-and-cheese sandwich from the vending machine, so she's tempted to wonder about that newly opened Indian restaurant. Maybe she'd ask Gabriel to dine there one of these days. Maybe tonight? Tomorrow?

She tries to kill time by tidying up Gabriel's office. She has nowhere to go to, anyway. She doesn't want to see Michelle, and she's not sure if visiting Mary or chatting up Mrs. Gomez would be healthy for her soul. So she just holes up in Gab's office, wiping clean everything with a scented wet wipe, doing it carefully, as though her very soul is contained in that wipe. But really, everything here is part of Gabriel's daily existence, which makes them important to her, too. She's so engrossed with what she's doing that she doesn't notice the passing of hours. So much that when the phone on Gabriel's desk trills, she's so surprised she almost throws the vase she's holding.

”Hello?” she breathes into the phone.

”Goodness, you're still there.” It's Gabriel, breathing hard. ”I need you here, Claire. Quickly, please. I need you…” Then the line goes dead.

Claire stares at the phone, wondering what just happened. And what's going on with Gab?