"Derek, are you done?" I ask, fastening the strap of my silver shoe, my high ponytail falling over my shoulder.
"I am, sorry," Derek responds, marching toward me, his strides long and hasty. "Sorry. I had to check something with Dion."
I straighten my back and move over to give him space, and he easily slips his shoes on.
"It's going to be fine, Derek. The anniversary party is going to be great," I mumble soothingly. He straightens his back.
"I hope so."
Tomorrow is the first year anniversary of his restaurant, Derek's. The year has been a pretty wild ride for both of us as we've ventured out of comfort zones, with him managing his own business, while I've also started over with Nina.
For starters, Derek had struggled with invading the overly saturated food market, especially as the chosen location already had established pubs and diners. It took at least half a year before his unique Southeast Asian fusion cuisine gained popularity, but in the process he also had to give up on his I-don't-look-good-in-photos crap. Derek had become the face of restaurant.
The thing is, social media can be hellish and arguably, a problematic virtual space when left unchecked, but it's an absolute heaven for advertisements.
Six months ago, Derek's cooking video and some photos here and there had captured tons of attention. He went viral. Most of the comments were flattering, some funny, but many were definitely disturbing, not gonna lie. But it pulled some customers, even those they called 'foodies' and 'influencers' who had mentioned that the restaurant was 'instagrammable', whatever that meant. Only when I figured out it was a compliment to the interiors did I become pleased.
Even now, though Derek has reduced his online presence, we'll have some people recognize him in public, and I'll feel slightly insecure. The stares. The whispers. They get to me, and it never escapes his attention.
Derek typically seizes my hand to lock my fingers with his, or he'll give me a peck on the cheek. That's all it takes to make me privately squeal.
And tomorrow, they're celebrating the first year anniversary by throwing a party with some live music and offering discounted menus for customers.
I can't blame him. His father and his stepmom are invited, after all. It'll be the very first time they'll visit the restaurant, and Derek has been antsy because of it these past few weeks.
Derek looks at me from head to toe, his hand finding it way to my waist as he whispers to my ear, "You look so gorgeous."
I blush. "You don't look bad yourself."
He touches the hem of my long, red dress and pauses at the high slit exposing my thigh, his index finger grazing my bare skin.
"As much as I like this being on you, I definitely cannot wait to see this off you."
I giggle. "Stop it. We'll be late," I say. "This night is too important. Don't distract me."
He laughs. "Alright, alright. Let's kick Clark's ass first."
Right. Before I forget to update with you about my life, tonight is the first interior design competition Nina and I are participating in.
We have been pretty comfortable, all things considered. We have a consistent flow of clients, but most projects are small time, unlike when we were in Cosmo.
Interior design has always had a relatively small market in the country, so to increase exposure, we've joined a nationwide competition. We initially assumed that the chances to win were low, but as soon as we skimmed over the participants, Nina and I had some sort of adrenaline rush, revving us up, and we shared a similar commitment: We have to thrash Cosmo, by hook or by crook.
And yes, tonight is the announcement of the winners from the final five contenders, NS Design and Cosmo included.
Derek extends his arm to me, and I take it, and we leave unit 1604, ready to take Cosmo down.
******
"You look stunning!" Nina exclaims as I inch to hug her.
"You, too!" I reply. Derek also gives Nina a quick embrace, then we greet Nina's partner, George.
"So, you ready?" I ask, my eyes scanning the venue filled with architects, designers, representatives of corporations, and the media. A piece of classical music plays in the background, ushers welcoming guests and leading them to their respective seats.
We walk to our assigned table, my gaze falling on another that is a few meters away and is male-dominated. My gut gets the oh so familiar uncomfortable sensation as my smile falters.
"You okay?" Derek asks, then he looks at where my gaze is directed at. He huffs, pulling a chair for me.
"Yes," I reply, gaining composure. "I'm okay."
Servers pour us some wine and provide us with dinner as the program commences. There are some speeches and introduction of the judges. My fingers tremble with every minute that passes, and on the second introduction, I excuse myself.
"How have you been?"
The voice startles me. I stop and see Clark near the door on my way back from the washroom.
"None of your business," I say.
"You stole some of our clients," he utters accusingly.
"They moved to us. There's a difference."
He squishes his eyebrows. "You know you won't win."
"Then why do you sound afraid?" I mock. "Get out of my face."
I try to walk past him, but he obstructs my way. "Why can't you just give up?"
"Why can't you just fuck off?"
He bares his teeth. "You're such a--"
"The lady told you to fuck off."
We turn our heads and see Derek, his face dark, his pulse slamming in his neck. He motions and stands beside me, wrapping his hand on my waist.
"They're going to announce the winners soon. We have to go back inside," Derek mutters without breaking gaze from Clark.
"Mm," I hum, then I return to the hall with him, leaving Clark speechless.
"Thanks," I whisper as we take our seats. "I don't know why he finds it amusing to fight with me."
"He's insecure, that's why," Derek scoffs. "Sorry I had to cut in. I wouldn't have been able to stop myself if I heard him say another word."
I caress his arm. "No, Derek. I appreciate it."
We spin their heads to the stage as we hear a round of applause. The announcements are about to roll in.
I can't help but throw a glance in Cosmo Interiors' direction, and anxiety splinters my chest, the fragments of last year's events during the Main View Hotel opening party flashing in my mind.
The way I was pushed aside. The way Clark took credit for our work.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
What if we lose? To see Clark again up there will be devastating. I won't be able to take it.
I have to go. I can't do this.
"Sam," Derek whispers, clutching my moist hands. "It'll be fine."
"Derek, I don't know--"
"It'll be fine," he reiterates.
My breathing steadies, and I gradually look at Derek, who smiles. "He can't take this away from you."
I sigh, "I'm scared."
"You've already won."
The next I thing I know, I'm up on stage with Nina, delivering a modified speech from a year ago. Clark walks out with the rest of his peers as I declare that leaving my previous workplace is the best decision I'd made in my career. The media snap shots of them.
I head back to Derek, who snakes his arms around me again. I sink my nose into his neck, inhaling his minty scent.
"See? I told you."
A smile crosses my lips.
We're taking Goliath down one step at a time, and we've only just begun.
A/N:
Happy holidays, folks! Hope everyone's enjoying and relaxing this holiday season!