Easy

Chapter 3

“Yes, people do become quite fond of meeting me, I’m told”, she replied with a grin. “But you never answered my question. What were you doing in Club Paradiso tonight? A good boy like you. You don’t just stumble into a club like that.”

He was chuckling at her cockiness then stopped when he repeated her question. Despite growing comfortable around her, he didn’t feel like sharing intimate information with her yet. “It’s personal.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as they heard sirens blaring in the distance; coming from the direction of the club. “The police are here”, she murmured, glancing at the window in the living room, as if she could actually see the police cars.

He nodded. “Took them long enough”, he replied.

She looked back at him and cocked her head to the side. “Have anything against authorities? A criminal record, maybe?”, she asked, but with a teasing tone.

He shook his head and shrugged. “They take too long a time to respond to crime scenes. Being servants of the law, they should be a little more alert, I think.”

“Uhuh…”, she said slowly, nodding and looking at him with an amused smile, “servants being your choice of words, of course.  Advocates or promoters would’ve been less…degrading. But that’s coming from someone closer to their class of people than you are, of course.” She took a sip of her tea and gave a ‘just saying’ kind of shrug.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “What’s that supposed to mean, ‘closer to their class of people’?”

“I meant that the police and I are in the same class of people: middle class. Compared to you who’s probably—-well, obviously—-from the upper class”, she said matter-of-factly.

He shook his head and looked at her incredulously. “Are you accusing me of judging people based on status?”

“Aren’t you?”, she challenged. “You clearly think the police is beneath you because they don’t do their job at par with your standards. And the term ‘servants’ is kind of lost on people like me who can’t really afford one.”

“I don’t… I just meant… They could at least…”, he sputtered, unable to make a comprehensible sentence. He couldn’t believe she was just sitting there, so cool about everything while he was here seething with irritation.

Before he could even say anything, she waved a hand to dismiss his efforts to reply. “I’m not saying these things to make you mad or anything. I’m just stating it as a fact. You’re rich, I’m not. So are the police. Well, most of them, anyway. For all we know, they don’t respond that fast because they just came out of a second job or something when the call for backup came in. That’s life. Not everyone has the same luxuries as others. In fact, some people don’t have luxuries, at all. Whether material luxury or the luxury of time. It was not meant to offend you”, she explained.

He bit his lip and sighed. “I don’t judge people based on their financial means, okay. I don’t judge people, period. Or at least, I hope I don’t”, he muttered.

She shrugged. “We can’t really say these things about ourselves. No one person has that good an insight about their personality. You should ask your friends if you’re worried about being prejudiced or not”.

He sipped his tea and didn’t say anything. They remained silent, the sound of the police siren still in the background. After a while, he broke the silence.

“You seem so sure of yourself”, he observed.

She was lost in thought for a moment, staring into space, that she didn’t hear what he said. She glanced up at him with a look of curiosity. “Huh? What? Sorry.”

He chuckled. “So now you’re the one with the ‘huh, sorry’ phase? I thought that was my expertise?”, he teased.

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t think you’re so witty, mister”, she said in a low voice. “Anyway, what were you saying?”, she asked in a louder voice.

He shook his head, the chuckling still in his voice as he replied, “I said, you seem so sure of yourself.”

Her mouth’s upper right corner turned up, giving him a teasing smile. “Of course, I am. Is there any other way I need to be?”

He shrugged. “I guess not”, he said. There was something about her that was not quite allowing him to be perfectly comfortable. While it was true that he’s gotten over his earlier embarrassment about the whole ‘shower’ incident, and was now actually able to have a conversation with her, something was still unsettling him. He knew it was partially because she was pretty. Very pretty, at that. He hadn’t noticed it that much earlier at the bar because the lights were dim and let’s be honest, he was paying more attention to her body than her face.

Devoid now of the light makeup she’d had on earlier, her face looked very young and very—-he couldn’t find a more fitting word other than ‘angelic’. But that was what was very unsettling about it. She looked like an angel, but he knew there were a few horns in her head, if not a lot. No angel would’ve dressed in provocative clothes, looked comfortable in a nightclub and invited a complete stranger into her apartment. Well, no angel fitting his idea of an angel, that is.

He couldn’t shake off the fact that she was very attractive, as well. Not just because of the pretty face, but overall. He knew he told himself earlier that he couldn’t possibly be this easily attracted to her, but the truth is, he was. She held a certain air of confidence that didn’t really cross the boundary towards arrogance. He knew it wasn’t a façade. He knew this was just how she was: comfortable in her own skin, and not afraid to flaunt it.

“You’re staring at me.” It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t an accusation. She said it as more of an observation.

He turned away and looked down at his mug, still half full with his tea, already growing cold. “Sorry”, he muttered.

She chuckled. “Don’t be. I don’t mind.”

Silence enveloped them. He kept on staring at his mug, absently running his finger along the brim, when he heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back. He looked up to see Julie standing up and walking over to the sink. The sound of running water reached him as he watched her wash her mug and replace it on the cupboard overhead. Then she turned to him, leaning against the countertop.

She crossed her arms across her chest and smiled at him. “So… are you ever gonna tell me why you were really in Club Paradiso tonight?” She was curious. She didn’t believe that he had just walked into the bar at random.

He sighed. “I told you, it’s personal. We’re not close friends. I don’t think you’ve deserve to know—-“

“Actually, I think I do, sheltering you here and all”, she said with a wink.

When he didn’t respond, she moved closer, pulling her earlier chair and sitting immediately beside him. She turned the chair so she was facing him and leaned close. He could smell strawberry and peaches on her again, and this time, the smell was overwhelming since it was not masked by smoke and sweat anymore. He inhaled her scent and did his best to keep himself from closing his eyes and savoring it. He stared at her as she stared at him.

“Oh come on, Magalona. It’s not like we have anyone in common in our lives that I’m gonna gossip it to. And I’m not even gonna gossip about it. It’ll be exciting to keep it as our little secret”, she said, a glint in her eyes.

Something about looking into those excited, brown eyes seemed to pull him into confession. He told her about his argument with Bianca, about how he didn’t want to do it with her because of his priorities.

A moment later, she laughed. Really laughed. A cheerful laugh. So hard, she had to clutch on to the table for support as she doubled over, laughing.

“I’m glad you find my conflict humorous”, he said, annoyed.

She shook her head and wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. She straightened up and did her best to stop laughing but her voice was still shaking as she asked, in a surprised and non-too-discreet voice, “You’re a virgin?!”