by Marian Tee
A flash of irritation crossed Constantijin's eyes. "Yanna."
“You know you don’t have any right to say that.” I did my best to keep my voice gentle. I hated fighting with him, but I had to stand my ground on this. He had a domineering personality, and I couldn't let him get away with everything.
His eyes shuttered. "Fine."
I was tempted to take it back but I didn't. "I’ll miss you.”
The words usually made him smile, but this time it only made him feel more distant.
And then before I knew it, he was gone.
Lesson #6
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,
But heaven hath nothing as gorgeous as a billionaire made jealous.
My weekend felt empty without a single call or message from Constantijin. It made my heart cry out in fear, but I did my best to suppress it. I kept asking Constantijin to have faith. Yet here I was, unable to trust him just because he could be too busy with work to do so.
Monday arrived, and I had never been so keen to go to work. But I was in for a surprise, with Glenda telling me gently that Constantijin had been delayed and would be staying in New York indefinitely.
The office wasn’t the same without him. Even food – my greatest comfort in life – wasn’t as comforting as it had been all these years. For the first time in my entire existence, even my favorite lasagna tasted like layers of recycled paper mixed with cheap cardboard.
I managed to resist Google-stalking him until Thursday. I had to know what was going on with him. Just one little peek, I promised to myself as my fingers expertly paved a secret pathway into his world.
In a few seconds, what I did and did not need to see stared back at me in painfully vivid colors.
Rows of photos of Constantijin attending different functions, looking dashingly debonair in his tuxes and suits, filled the page. And always present in his arm was the lovely Selena, elegant and beautiful in a similarly golden way, their blond heads melting together whenever they posed together for photos.
When I clicked the link on another tabloid coverage of the same events, I found a paparazzi photo of the two entering what was labeled as Selena’s hotel room – at three in the morning.
“You okay, Yanna?” George asked with a frown from his cubicle when he heard me let out a gasp of hurt.
Quickly closing the tab, I answered in a wobbly voice, “Yup.”
I didn’t cry at work, and for the first time in my life, I managed not to tell anyone about it. I couldn’t. It was too…
Oh God, I couldn’t even think of a word for it.
But when I reached my home that night, I quickly locked the door, pulled up the covers, and that’s when I let the tears fall, for the rest of the night.
~~~~
Glenda managed to corner me the next day even though I did my very best to avoid her. Constantijin had been calling and mailing me all day until I was forced to remove the battery of my phone and throw all of it inside my drawer. If I wasn’t so practical, I would have changed my number as well. But that was too impractical and I didn’t do impractical. I did stupid, silly, foolish but only because I had extremely bad taste in men.
“The boss is looking for you,” was all Glenda said as she practically manhandled me into Constantijin’s office. She was frighteningly strong for a woman her age.
Rubbing my wrists, I almost jumped in surprise when Constantijin’s hands settled on my shoulders, whispering as he turned me around to face him, “Miss me?”
For a moment, my heart twisted in all kinds of agony as I gazed at his beautiful face, his golden-copper-tinted hair gleaming even more brightly with the sun’s rays shining into Constantijin’s office. His blazer was hanging at the back of his chair, leaving him in his silk shirt, its sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
He looked the same yet different, too, like he was…like he was glad to see me but wasn’t sure if I would feel the same.
Smart of him.
I stepped back from his hold. Standing so close to Constantijin, I felt immeasurably small in my flats. If I had known he’d be coming back today, I would have worn heels instead. And – and I would have worn something jaw-droppingly sexy instead of a rather ordinary three-piece.
“You didn’t miss me then?” A quizzical smile appeared on his lips.
Lips that could have touched another woman’s lips, cheeks, body---
I almost lost my balance, the wave of pain crashing down on me a tangible weight.
“Are you all right?” He reached out for me.
I took another step back, my skin crawling at the thought of being touched by hands that could have touched another woman’s just the night before.
Unlike him, I wasn’t the type to beat around the bush so I just said baldly, “I saw you.” I took a deep breath. “I saw you online – a bunch of photos that showed you and Selena together and even one photo showed you entering her hotel room.”
Constantijin stilled, a blank mask falling over his gorgeous face. Then he said simply, "I see."
“What do you mean, you see?” I exploded, almost falling to my knees at the pain his words caused.
His hands went inside his pockets. "I didn't peg you to be the type to ascribe to double standards."
It took me several moments to understand his meaning. I whitened when I did. Basically, he was telling me that since I didn't promise fidelity while he was away, it meant that he wasn't obliged to do the same. Cultural differences may be at work here, but --- dammit, couldn't he have asked?
"It's not like that," I told him flatly.
"It's exactly like that!”
"No, it's not!" My fists clenched in impotent anger and hurt. "You're the one courting me!"
"So?"
I couldn’t believe he could just stand there so arrogantly, not even bothering to defend himself or apologize. "You just don't get it, do you?" I asked wearily.
“You are the one who doesn’t get it,” he said between clenched teeth. He was angry – really angry, and that made me more tired. “I told you that I am not to be played---”
“And you weren’t. You were never…” I wheezed for air, the pain of what he was wordlessly admitting to choking me. “I didn't want to promise you I wouldn't entertain suitors because I didn't want you to know how much I liked you. Just that. But I never entertained any suitors. I didn't even date anyone or talk to any guy beside you. You can ask anyone here and it's the truth."
Constantijin was pale by the time I finished, which I regretted honestly because even after what I did, it was never my intention to hurt him. I just – I just wanted him to know that it could have been really good between us.
“So, if there’s nothing you can think of saying anymore---” An expected sob escaped, and when Constantijin looked stricken at the sound, I whirled around, unable to bear the look of pity on his face.
To hell with this.
I hurried out of the room as quick as my new mules could carry me. Walking straight into the rest room, I locked myself in the first available cubicle that I could reach.
And then I cried again.
I kept my phone dead the whole weekend and when I came to work Monday, Glenda was standing watch at my door. “The boss wants to see you so make up an excuse and then---”
“Glenda,” I whispered.
She stopped speaking, her eyebrows shooting up when she had a closer look of my face. Puffy eyes, red nose, trembling lips – that was how I looked when I stared at myself in the mirror this morning, and I doubted I looked any better now.
“Glenda, please. It’s over between us.”
She took another look at me before nodding, turning her back and walking away. The calls and texts came next, all of which I rejected and deleted. The flowers followed, and I donated them to the charity occupying an office in 7/F.
On Thursday, Charli told me I had a call in her office. Thinking it was the client she had assigned to me earlier to negotiate with, I took it quickly, aiming to sound very pro
fessional as I said, “Good morning, this is Yanna Everleigh---”
“Yanna.”
It was him.
“Don’t put the phone down.” His voice sounded raw, like he had wounded his throat from talking.
Too much pillow talk talking with his dear lovely Selena, probably. The thought hardened me, giving me the strength to answer him with silence.
“I’m sorry,” he rasped. “I was an idiot.”
Never had I expected him to apologize, much less admit to being an idiot – which he had been. But it was too late. “It’s over,” I said, forcing my tone to stay flat and emotionless even though I had an exceptionally strong urge to bawl like a baby.
He was always so unfair.
He would make me fall, push me away, then he’d come back and make me fall for him again.
“Please don’t bother me again,” I whispered before ending the call.
Charli dealt me a speculative look when I put the phone down. “The, err, client wasn’t a good match?”
She knew.
I forced a smile. “He terminated me first.”
~~~~
Friday came again, this time with a major company event. It was the birthday of the Chairman of the Board, with everyone’s presence strictly required and the dress code formal. I would have given any excuse to skip it – strangely, the thought of seeing his parents hurt. But I couldn’t, not when Charli told me with such a proud smile how she had managed to convince the Board to make me the host instead of hiring a professional.
I came to the event dressed to kill. The Grecian style of my amethyst-toned gown added the illusion of a more generous cleavage to my slimmer curves while my silver heels lent me a few extra inches. The added height was necessary. I wanted to be sure the microphone stand wouldn’t end up taller than me. Been there, done that, never wanted to feel like a midget on stage again.
George helped with my hair, which he had tied halfway up while leaving the rest to curl around my shoulders. He even gave me a hand with my makeup, managing to make my eyes look large and luminous with a dark eyeliner and dramatic eye shadow.
“You look smashing,” George enthused as we walked hand in hand into the hotel ballroom reserved for Kastein Inc.’s private function.
“Totally,” I agreed airily even though inside I still felt a thousand years older and a hundred times uglier than the worst-looking troll. Heartbreak and I – we were never good companions for each other.
“No, seriously,” George insisted. “Look at your right.”
When I did so, absently, a group of men from Finance whistled in appreciation, their stares bordering on lecherous.
I blushed.
“See?”
“It’s your makeup,” I said finally.
He shook his head. “No, hun. It’s you.” Then he patted my bottom, making me giggle. “Now, break a leg.” He pushed me towards the side steps leading to the stage.
I had only taken a few steps when I lost my footing, most likely out of sheer nervousness, and would have fallen flat on my face if a pair of arms hadn’t caught me.
Heart beating madly, I looked up.
Oh.
It wasn’t Constantijin.
It was Mr. Fix It.
He helped me up slowly and I tried not to notice how his hands held my waist just a little bit longer than he should. “Third time now, Yanna,” he said with a grin.
Now that I was back in my feet, I could properly appreciate his looks, and I had to admit that he brushed up quite nicely in formal attire. White tuxes were hard to carry for most men, but on Drake – he simply looked like an angel with a naughty sense of humor.
Especially with the way he was looking at me.
Blushing, I stammered, “I know. I’m so sorry.”
Drake laughed. “I was just kidding, Yanna. I have no complaints about being your knight in shining armor anytime.” He hesitated then, his voice lowering a notch, “You look utterly desirable.”
“Umm, thanks. Y-you look good tonight, too.”
“Only for tonight?”
I was horrified. “I didn’t mean---” Then I saw the laughter in his gaze and groaned. “You’re mean!”
“And I just wanted you to laugh because I think you’re nervous for no reason.” He gave me a megawatt smile that I was very sure would make my heart skip a beat if it wasn’t still in the emergency room, receiving treatment for post-traumatic shock, thanks to overexposure to unfaithful Dutch playboy billionaires.
Drake bent close, I reared back, but it was too late.
He pressed a kiss on my forehead.
When he pulled away, I was gaping.
“Your good luck kiss,” he said with a wink before walking away.
More than a little confused, I absently touched my forehead as I climbed the stage, wondering if maybe – maybe I had been right all this time. Maybe Drake was the one for me and Constantijin Kastein was just the Devil’s best attempt to seduce me from my happily-ever-after romance.
The limelight swung immediately toward me as I reached the middle of the stage. I automatically beamed at the crowd. “Welcome to the 60th birthday of our beloved Chairman of the board, Mrs. Margaret Kastein. On behalf of the Kastein family, I would like to thank you all for coming.”
Although I had my script in hand, I barely glanced at it, knowing I was better off improvising and keeping eye contact with my audience. I had never been a limelight-hogger, but that didn’t mean I sucked at stage presentations – or, in this case, hosting jobs. Most times, I was actually good at it since my public speaking skills had been honed at an early age, with both my parents constantly volunteering me to act as host for every company party they threw.
Later, I was hosting a game that had Arian as one of the contestants. She, too, looked smashing – especially with her headlights fully on. The moment I saw Arian’s nipple alert, I immediately searched for George in the crowd. Our eyes met – and then we were grinning.
You had to hand it to Arian, really. It always took guts to show up like that on stage and just so she could seduce Constan---I mean, our CEO. I had to start thinking of him impersonally now.
Two hours later, and I dished out my last speech for the night, declaring the end of the “official” event, which meant the time to dance and go wild would now officially begin.
“Thank you!” I blew them a goodbye kiss, and the crowd went wild, with one guy from Marketing actually letting out a loud whoop as he jumped high, pretending to catch my air kiss.
Laughter and applause still rang clearly in the background as I went down the stage. George was waiting for me, grinning, and we exchanged hugs.
“My hands are still shaking,” I confessed.
George rolled his eyes. “You were fantastic there!”
We looked at each other and then we started jumping like crazy. God! That had been hard, hosting a party for a Fortune 500 corporation and with over a thousand employees from all levels attending.
“Ahem.”
Still clasping each other’s hands, we turned toward the sound.
Oh my God, it was Constantijin with his mother.
George and I quickly released each other, faces flaming.
"My mother wanted to congratulate the host for a job well done," Constantijin said, his eyes on me while my eyes were on – anywhere but him. Even so, I couldn’t help stealing a peek at his looks.
Bad mistake.
He was, like, too hot to be true.
And I was, like, too wet to be true right now.
Constantijin’s hair was brushed up in a slick style. It should have made him look totally sleazy and old, but no, darn it, he just looked nobler – like a freaking European prince. He was all Old World glamour, and his blazer even had coattails, its beautiful cut emphasizing the impressive width of his shoulders and his height.
“Mom, this is the woman I’ve been telling you about – Yanna – and her friend George. They are both the new executives in our marketing department.”
“George, Yanna, may I present to you my mother, Margaret Kastein?”
“Good evening, Mrs. Kastein,” George and I murmured in unison.