Like Nobody's Watching

by Tara Frejas

  Why was she trying so hard to suppress a smile? It wasn’t like anyone could see. And it wasn’t a crime to feel happy over a cute good morning text, was it? And from a cute boy too.

  Pfft, Audrey. He is not a boy.

  She replied with a “See you later” and wondered if the message was too dry. In the middle of composing another text message, a new one came in. It was from Luigi’s secretary, Isla.

  Hi, Ms. Audrey. I’m finalizing the guest list for the SFM anniversary party and wanted to know if you’re bringing a guest. Please let me know ASAP. Thanks.

  For the first time since joining Same Feather Media, Audrey didn’t feel like attending the company anniversary party. She was almost 100 percent sure Luigi would be parading his new girlfriend around, and she didn’t know if she could handle that. Just yesterday, seeing that he had changed his Facebook profile photo to that of him and a model-esque woman named Cassie angered her so much, she unfollowed him on every social media platform, flung her phone in the air, and unintentionally hurt someone.

  How much more damage was she going to cause if she saw them in person? She’d probably have some kind of emotional breakdown and make a fool out of herself. Nope. Not her idea of Friday night fun.

  A phone call from Pio kept her from sending Isla a reply.

  “Hi!” The actor’s voice sounded bright over the phone. “I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me.”

  Hmm. A welcome distraction.

  “Sounds good. Where?”

  “There’s a restaurant called Tsokolateria at the Igorot Stairs near Casa Vallejo.”

  “You really like chocolate, don’t you?”

  “Just curious about their food. I read on a food blog they serve everything with chocolate.”

  “Lunch it is. I’ll see you in an hour.”

  “And here I was wondering if you had to get drunk again so you can tell me things.”

  The longer Audrey looked at Pio, the more she understood why advertisers were in love with him. It’s those goddamn eyes. Sure, he had a voice that could make a laundry list sound alluring, but he knew how to use those expressive brown eyes to his advantage, and that made all the difference. She wasn’t attracted to him, but she was certain he’d be able to sell her anything if he used that look on her each time.

  And that smile. Didn’t he need a license for that?

  “Honestly? I’d appreciate a lick of alcohol, but maybe not right now.”

  Pio raised his small, ceramic cup of tsokolate de batirol and flashed her a grin. Fine smile lines appeared at the corners of his eyes. “We can pretend this is a shot instead.”

  Audrey clinked her cup against his and took a long, leisurely sip. If only for this rich, hot chocolate that reminded her of a warm embrace, she decided coming here was a good idea. Going on a backpack shoot didn’t mean she had to work twenty-four hours a day, anyway.

  A gust of cool September wind blew past, teasing the decorative green curtains of their cabana. Huddled up into her jacket, she leaned back on her chair and let her eyes wander the vicinity of the al fresco restaurant.

  “So you were dating your boss...”

  “Hey. Don’t get judgey on me,” she warned, glaring at Pio, who was stuffing his face with a forkful of white chocolate carbonara. “We were a couple even before Same Feather was a thing.”

  Was. Were. Before. The words sounded so final and so heavy, it felt like her rib cage was being crushed. Luigi was once in love with her. They were together for more or less a decade before he had a change of heart.

  “Not judging you. Him,” he pointed out. “He’s an asshole. No offense.”

  “None taken.”

  “Was he the reason you hulked out on me yesterday?”

  “Yes,” she admitted, albeit with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

  Pio clicked his tongue. “Stop apologizing, Audrey. It’s not like you knew I was there. Besides...” He paused to touch his forehead. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

  “Thank goodness. I thought I was facing a lawsuit.”

  “I’m not that petty.”

  Audrey poured herself another cup of hot chocolate. “So why’d you think of inviting me for lunch?”

  “No special reason. Just thought it would be nice not to have lunch alone.”

  “I thought you were staying with a relative.”

  At her words, Pio’s eyes lit up. He jerked an eyebrow and flashed her a smirk. “Oho! It seems you were asking about me.”

  “I heard Marj and Marty talk about it.”

  “My mom’s sister lives here. She has a transient house at Camp 7 she manages with my cousin, Manuel. We all had breakfast together, so I wanted to see someone else for lunch.”

  “And that’s me.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t think you’d agree.” She saw a trace of mischief in Pio’s smile. “I thought maybe I could call someone else, but I figured we have history, so...”

  “History?”

  “Mm-hmm. But if you want chemistry, we can work on that too.” His words were followed by a rumbling, hearty laugh that made Audrey want to laugh as well. She gave in eventually, surprising herself with the sound of her laughter.

  Wow. How miserable have I been?

  Just when she was getting used to the happy noise rising up her throat, Audrey saw Pio perch his elbow on the backrest of his seat and look at her like he was seeing her for the first time. Self-conscious all of a sudden, she pursed her lips and dug into her bacon lechon kawali.

  “I’ve often wondered how you’d look like if you smiled. Really smiled, just like that.” His eyes seemed to sparkle with discovery as he looked at her. “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “For giving me a glimpse.”

  Audrey usually had a comeback for anything, but Pio pulled a checkmate on her. What does one even say to that?

  “You don’t have to smile all the time if you don’t feel like it,” he added. “But I wish you find more reasons to smile from now on.”

  “Thanks, but it’s not that easy.”

  “If there’s any way I could help, let me know?”

  “Help how, exactly?”

  Pio shrugged. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

  “Are you bored?”

  “No, but I have a lot of time in my hands as of late,” he replied and waggled his eyebrows. “I may know people who know people who can take care of your ex. If you know what I mean.”

  “What?”

  He waved his hand and laughed. “I’m kidding. But I meant it when I said I’m here to help.”

  “Why would you want to do that?”

  The smile on Pio’s face melted into a look of confusion. “Seriously? Do I need a reason to help someone?”

  Did Pio Alvez have some sort of savior complex going on? Did he feel protective of her because she looked like a damsel in distress the first time they met? A lot of questions ran through her head, but perhaps it was futile to keep asking. And really, did she want to know if he saw a charity case in her?

  “Fine. Thanks for the offer, but—” An idea crossed her mind. A selfish one, but an idea nonetheless. Part of her wanted to kick herself for even thinking about it, but all things considered, it could work.

  If he agrees.

  “Actually, I have something to ask.”

  Pio leaned toward the table and smiled at her like he had won something. “Tell me.”

  FIVE

  D ay 2 was all about quick changes, new locations, and charming the pants off the handheld RED One that followed Pio around. Over a span of several hours, he took his virtual date to the BenCab Museum for a dose of art, Camp John Hay for a Tree Top Adventure, and Mt. Cloud Bookshop for a bookish night cap.

  It’s a few minutes before midnight, and Pio stood in front of Burnham Park’s man-made lake, waiting to board a swan boat. In this episode’s script, he was taking his date on a boat ride and offering her mocha-flavored coffee in a Tetra Pak.

  Easy enoug
h. Easier than acting out an intensely poignant scene with an actor with the emotional range of a corkboard.

  He heard Audrey bark orders through a megaphone. A small crowd of onlookers swooned when the lights around the lake were switched back on, allowing them a clearer view of Pio’s face. Some of the SFM crew members had to request them to refrain from yelling.

  “Everybody standby!” the AD announced. “We’re rolling in three, two...”

  Pio flirted with the camera as soon as they started rolling, but his thoughts drifted to a real date he agreed to go on with Audrey.

  “Our office anniversary party is next Friday. I really don’t feel like going, but people are going to gossip anyway, so might as well.”

  “And?”

  “My ex is bringing his new girlfriend with him—”

  “—so you need me as a shield, is what you’re saying.”

  “As my date. You can say no, of course. I’m not obli—”

  “Sure, I’ll go.”

  “...really?”

  Really.

  Pio didn’t think he’d score a date with Audrey so soon. Or that she would ask first, for that matter. And really, who in their right mind would reject one such invitation from a beautiful woman? Definitely not an Alvez.

  When the shoot was over, Pio found himself lying carelessly on his folding bed inside the crew tent, humming a happy tune. Marj had told him they were done with Baguio, and that the small remainder of the episodes will be shot at the SFM studio in Manila.

  He covered the smile he wore with his beaten-down script. Finally, a free day in this city he missed, and oh, the possibilities!

  Eyes closed and in between calm breaths, Pio made plans. Strawberry taho was on top of the list, a quick stop at the Baguio City Market, and then brunch at Café Sabel.

  A list appeared in his head: Strawberries for mom, because she loved them. Peanut brittle for Isagani, the sweet tooth. Coffee beans, for Datu’s all-nighters. Good Shepherd alfajores and ube for Erin and Ramon. Strawberry wine, lengua de gato, choco flakes and crinkles for everyone at Teatro Lakambini and the Alvez Foundation for the Arts. What should he get Tita Conching and Manu, though, to thank them for “adopting” him for three days?

  “Pio?”

  He pulled the script off his face and saw Audrey peering at him, hesitant. She must have thought he had fallen asleep.

  “Time to go?” He got up and began undressing. Brown leather jacket first, then shirt...

  “Soon.” Audrey looked away. “Crew’s going to take the tent down after we leave.”

  “Have lunch with me again tomorrow?”

  “I’m planning to catch up on sleep, actually.”

  “Ah. Of course.”

  “Anyway, I guess I’ll see you in Manila.”

  Pio nodded. “For our date.”

  “And the rest of the shots for the series.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Audrey stepped forward and he did the same, angling for a hug. But she had only meant to shake his hand, he realized, so he pretended to stretch his arms above his head instead.

  “Thank you for the great work, Pio.” She laughed and took his hand. Obviously, his body language wasn’t subtle enough to be left unnoticed. Still, he made her laugh. The few seconds of embarrassment was worth it.

  “No biggie.”

  “Have a safe trip back.”

  “You too.”

  Vivid colors brightened Pio’s morning when he sauntered into Baguio City Market, ready to splurge on pasalubong before braving the drive back home. The place was as bustling as he remembered, and just as fascinating.

  Numerous stalls standing side by side offered a dizzying array of goods—hand-woven bags and trinkets here, strawberry-shaped souvenirs there, fresh produce on one side, sweets and chichirya on another. Quite a number of stalls still sold barrel men and penis-shaped wares, which always amused him. He still remembered being shocked seeing them for the first time years ago.

  Vendors stared as Pio walked by, stopped to look at merchandise, and moved on to another stall. Not long after, people approached him for photos and autographs.

  As he was paying for two baskets of fresh strawberries, he spotted a friendly face three stalls down. A smile broke across his face in an instant.

  “Good morning!”

  Audrey spun around and stared at him as if she saw a ghost. “H-hey.”

  “Thought you were sleeping in.”

  “I thought so too.” She shook the walis tambo she held in her hand. “My mom called and asked me to get her this. A broom, of all things. Like you can’t buy them in Manila.”

  “Can’t blame her. Baguio brooms are more durable.”

  She flashed him a look. “Didn’t take you for someone who knew a thing about brooms.”

  “Aha! Who’s being judgey now?”

  “Well, I—”

  “Oh my god, you’re Pio Alvez, aren’t you?” the middle-aged woman minding the broom stall squealed, interrupting what Pio assumed was a smart-alecky comeback. More squealing ensued when he responded with a nod. Next thing he knew, the woman left her wares and shoved past Audrey so she could cling to him like an excited koala.

  “Apo, nagguwapo ka nga talaga! I miss seeing you on TV!” the woman shrieked and waved at someone from inside the stall. “Darasem, nakkong! Alaem diay camera!”

  Trapped in the woman’s bear hug, Pio tried his best to give polite replies when she asked questions. Audrey relieved him of his strawberry baskets and bag of sweets, perhaps concerned he’d drop them by accident if the woman squeezed him a bit more.

  “Excuse me, miss, mabalin ngay pa-picture?”

  It was the vendor’s daughter, who ran out of their stall and handed Audrey a phone. Pio cringed and held his hand out. “No, we can just take a sel—”

  “It’s fine, it’s fine,” Audrey said, graciously obliging and even taking a few more shots for safety. The woman who ran the stall was so happy and thankful, she gave Audrey a free broom with her purchase.

  “Sorry about that,” he whispered to her when the photo op was done.

  She waved his apology away. “Don’t worry about it. And hey, I got a free broom, so thanks.”

  “Do you want me to hold that for you?”

  “Nah, I can manage.”

  Pio nodded, eyeing the brooms she slung over one shoulder like a backpack. He wasn’t sure how she ended up walking with him, but he wasn’t complaining. He liked this. He liked this very much.

  “I have a few more things on my list,” he declared, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans distracting him for a second. They were on the right track. “You?”

  “Just looking around for something else to buy.”

  “Cool. So how about that breakfast, then?”

  “Brunch,” she corrected, making a brief stop at a stall that sold woven bags. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

  Pio smiled.

  Morning made.

  “So—dress code?”

  Audrey made a few swipes on her phone and slid it across the round, rattan-weave table between them. “It’s a casino-themed cocktail party. So I guess a little dressy but not too much?”

  Written in fancy gold font, the words “Lucky Seven: A Thanksgiving Party” grabbed Pio’s attention. Where had he seen this before? On Datu’s messy desk, probably, together with the rest of his mail.

  “What color are you wearing?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  He returned Audrey’s phone. “How about that red dress?”

  “Seriously?”

  “What? You look gorgeous in it,” Pio remarked, unabashed. A waiter stopped at their table and placed their brunch choices in front of them. Cinnamon pancakes with bacon for her, adobo rice for him, and a watercress salad with pata negra to share.

  She thanked the waiter and looked back at Pio. “I’m flattered you think that way, but the only thing I want to do with that dress is burn it.”

  “Uh-oh. Is it from your asshole of an ex?”<
br />
  Audrey picked up a fork, poked a slice of tomato from the salad plate, and brought it to her mouth. A glint of anger in her eyes made Pio want to kick himself for even bringing up the topic.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine.”

  Thankfully, Café Sabel’s airy, carefree ambiance chased away the dark cloud Pio unwittingly brought to their table. As Audrey savored every morsel of her breakfast, Pio noticed a group of girls taking selfies by the rocky ledge behind her. When the girls finished taking photos, they began to not-so-discreetly point at their table.

  Soon enough, one of the girls approached them.

  “Hi, Pio! Puwede ba kaming magpa-picture?”

  Audrey’s eyes met his when she lifted her head. He couldn’t decide if she was amused or annoyed at the attention.

  “Later, please. When we’re done with our meal.”

  As if it was only then she’d noticed he was not alone, the girl looked over her shoulder and watched Audrey slicing through her cinnamon pancakes. The gaze lasted a little too long, in Pio’s opinion, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she started conjuring theories. Not like he cared.

  A pout appeared on the girl’s lips before she turned and stomped back to where her friends were.

  “Hm.”

  Pio looked across the table. “Hm?”

  “This is going to be trouble, isn’t it?”

  “What is?”

  “This.” She moved her index finger back and forth between them. “Being seen alone with you.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Are you sure? I’d hate to be a stain on your reputation.”

  He frowned. “A st—what? Stop that. And don’t even think about backing out on our agreement.”

  “People talk, Pio.”

  “So let them.” He shrugged, but his tone was firm. “I don’t care. I’m not contractually obliged to play lovey-dovey with an on-screen partner. And to be honest, I don’t want to be part of that setup anymore, either.”

  A memory crossed Pio’s mind, that of a lavish date at a rooftop lounge with a girl he liked but couldn’t tell the world about. He still wondered about that sometimes. Could he have won Erin’s heart if he had not let himself be tied down by the burden of maintaining an acceptable public persona?