by Tara Frejas
He laughed and tugged his car door open, depositing the bag in the passenger seat. “I think my face might have a lot to do with it.”
“I know! Who could resist you?” she squealed, followed by a short cough. “Sorry. I really did mean it when I said Ate Aji trusted you. And I don’t know how you guys are getting along, but I will be rooting for you.” Vivien raised a fist, a gesture of support Pio mimicked.
“Thanks, Viv.”
“No, Pio. Thank you.” Her voice took on a somber tone. “I speak to Ate a lot nowadays, and it’s just different. She sounds happier. She’s never been the type to show us her weaknesses, but I feel it sometimes...when being the family’s breadwinner takes a toll on her. Luigi was pretty much her happy little break from us, but then that fell apart too, and I was so worried she would go through some sort of mental or emotional breakdown.”
The night he first met Audrey came to mind, as well as that one incident in Baguio where she hurled her cell phone out of anger and accidentally hit him. Hearing these words from Vivien convinced him that Audrey’s family really had no idea how she dealt with the fallout. It almost made him want to drive six hours north just to give her a big hug.
“But then you happened,” Vivien said. “And I sincerely think you’ve made a difference.”
“You don’t know how glad I am to hear that,” Pio said, stepping forward to give Vivien a hug instead. “Let’s hope I can do that for a long, long time.”
EIGHTEEN
“A ji...calm down.”
“What are you talking about, Cris? I am perfectly calm,” Audrey said in between gritted teeth. “I am so calm I can knock a wine bottle on Lui’s head in the most Zen manner possible right now.”
Crissy reached for the wine bottle between them and moved it out of Audrey’s reach. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen.”
Audrey didn’t want to doubt her friend’s loyalties, but at this point, she didn’t know who to trust anymore. Because how in the world could Luigi have pulled out all of her Abracadabra Coffee footage and have the mobile app development team create a prototype for an otome-type game without SFM’s creative head knowing about it?
“This is the future of digital storytelling, and it’s in Same Feather Media’s hands,” Luigi said in his closing speech about media innovation. His ten-minute presentation featured Audrey’s original campaign, morphed into something else entirely.
Mr. Tanchangco at the front row looked ecstatic. Audrey, meanwhile, was close to popping a vein. She gulped down her glass of red wine and left their table, ignoring Crissy’s pleas for her to let it go for now and wait until we get to the hotel.
No, she would not wait until they get to the hotel, thank you very much. Her eyes were already locked on her target, Luigi and that smug little smile she wanted to wipe off with the heel of her annoying stilettos. He was laughing, shaking hands with his co-panelists after coming down from the stage. Mr. Tanchangco was there too, clapping the traitor’s back like he was some sort of hero.
She wanted to vomit. Luigi was nothing more than a filthy thief.
“I’d like to have a word with you, please. Now,” Audrey whispered to him when she got nearer. Mr. Tanchangco flashed her a smile, albeit an uneasy one, which made her question what else Luigi had done behind her back.
“Can it wait? Sweetie, I’m still talking to people, see?”
Luigi’s condescending tone made her skin crawl. Who the fuck are you, she wanted to ask. Were you this kind of person this whole time, and how did I miss it?
“Now, Luigi,” she insisted. “Or I’ll find your car at the parking lot and smash your windows.”
He shot her a look.
“You don’t think I can?”
Luigi’s car was a blue Lexus Luxury Coupe she had never traveled in before, much less seen. Audrey could care less about how impressive the vehicle was, though. It felt cramped inside, but she thought it was just because of Luigi’s ginormous ego. Plus, her anger was bursting out of her skin, so they’ve got a packed car waiting to explode.
“You couldn’t have told me you were planning to turn my project into a hybrid? No emails, no calls, no texts—nothing?”
“I didn’t think you’d be able to get it done in time for the Ad Summit,” he said coolly, the composure in his tone doing nothing to lessen her anger.
“Oh—I wonder why you would think that. Oh! Wait. Maybe it’s because you never told me you had plans for the Ad Summit!”
Audrey clenched her fists to keep them from trembling, but she was certain Luigi had heard the quiver in her voice. No, Audrey. You are not going to cry. Not in front of this asshole.
She expected another smug reply. Another smooth excuse she was ready to shoot down with a comeback. But Luigi gave her nothing but a laugh. A laugh, for god’s sakes. And if she didn’t know better, she’d say she heard satisfaction in his laughter. What he was so pleased about, she didn’t know. She had a feeling she wouldn’t understand even if she did.
“Why are you doing this to me, Lui? What have I done to you? I have done nothing but support you!”
Luigi’s laughter dissipated until all that’s left was the sound of his heavy breathing. Audrey narrowed her eyes, spying the twitch in his jaw, the tightened grip of his hands on the wheel. In a heartbeat, all of this felt familiar somehow. Like they were back to that night three years ago, when Luigi proposed marriage to her and she refused.
Their friends had dropped hints about Luigi’s plans, so she couldn’t say she wasn’t prepared for it. In fact, she had lost a few nights’ sleep just thinking about marriage. She definitely wanted it. She had once imagined herself walking down the aisle in a majestic wedding dress, beaming happily at Luigi waiting at the altar for her.
But that was the year of her dad’s second stroke, and she had plenty of things to think about other than marriage. Audrey told him she couldn’t accept his proposal yet, told him her reasons and worries, told him to be patient with her.
He had said he would be, that he understood. So why then, had things fallen apart so badly that they were now talking like neither of them knew each other at all?
“That’s fresh, Audrey. Really fresh, coming from you,” were his first words after what seemed like forever. “You barely had time for me anymore. All you did was work and bask under the light of your accolades.”
“I worked for the company you built, Lui! And my accolades were yours too—didn’t you see that? Everything I did was to help you achieve your dreams...and this is the thanks I get?”
“You were my dream, Audrey!”
“That’s complete bullshit and you know it!” she snapped, hot tears now rolling down her cheeks. “If that were true, you wouldn’t have gone chasing after someone else the moment you felt you were being neglected. But you know what—I realized what I was to you all this time. I was your trophy.”
“What are you t—”
“That was why you wanted me beside you all the time, why you hated how I was making a name for myself, why it was such a big deal to you that I stopped coming to work in dresses or that I cut my hair without your permission. I used to think you were being cute, but goddamit I was so wrong about you, Lui! You only wanted me because I made you look good, and when I couldn’t—”
“I hated that you had to involve your family in everything all the fucking time, Aji!”
Audrey clenched her trembling hands. She had suspected this before, but it still hurt having to hear it from him. “Thank you for finally saying it. You could’ve saved me a few months’ worth of wondering, you asshole,” she said and moved to unlock the door. Luigi beat her to it.
“Do you really think that Alvez kid is any better than me?” he scoffed. “Come on, Audrey. I know what you’re doing with that boy.”
“Leave Pio out of this. And stop pretending you know anything.”
“What did you think you’d achieve by mucking around with a celebrity, Audrey? Did you think I’d suddenly change
my mind, grovel at your feet—is that it? Because sleeping around is so not you.”
“You don’t get to use that tone on me.” Audrey unlocked the door again and pushed it open, sliding out of the passenger seat as quickly as she could. Dirt and gravel attempted to swallow her heels, slowing her every step until she kicked both her shoes off and stomped out of the parking lot. When Luigi wrapped a death grip around her arm, she swung around and hit his face with her shoes. He spat out a curse and let her go.
“It’ll never work out, Audrey. Stop fooling yourself thinking you and that Alvez kid will have anything more than a few fucks.”
Audrey felt a wave of satisfaction seeing a bruise on Luigi’s face, just below his right cheekbone. He wiped over it with his hand, revealing a bit of blood. “Sure, I’ll believe you. You’re the relationship expert here, after all. But you know what—even if Pio leaves me after ‘a few fucks,’ he will never be worse than the nightmare you’ve become.”
“Where are you going?” Luigi yelled when she turned to go. “We’re not done yet!”
She stopped in her tracks and laughed. “No, Lui. You don’t get to have the last say, not this time,” she said, her resolve swelling in her chest. “If I had been willing to look past our failed relationship to continue working with you and our friends, I’ve just changed my mind. You can have all the credit you want for all I care. I quit.”
Underneath the covers of her hotel room’s queen-sized bed, Audrey found temporary solace for the rest of the evening. Whatever plans she had to explore Camp John Hay the next day have disappeared into thin air, replaced by an urge to take the bus to Manila first thing in the morning.
Good thing Crissy hadn’t yet returned from all the socializing going on at the convention center. Audrey wasn’t in the mood to field questions about Luigi.
“Why do you sound so down?” Pio’s voice over the phone was a tender caress on her face. Closing her eyes, she pictured him touching her cheek in that affectionate manner he always did. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah...I’m just really exhausted,” she lied, following it up with, “I had to walk around in heels all day and I broke one of them too, which was just—ugh.”
“Ouch. Are you all right, though? You didn’t sprain your ankle or anything?”
“Nah, I’m good. Where are you? It sounds...awfully quiet.”
Pio laughed, the pleasant sound tugging at the corners of Audrey’s lips. “Oh, I’m at the AFFA studio. Might pull an all-nighter to finish recording something.”
“I take it you’re feeling better?”
“A little, yeah. If you were here, it’d probably be a different story altogether.”
“That’s real smooth.”
“Not smooth enough to get you to come over, though.”
“Patience, babe. I’m six hours away from you.” She paused and thought of her trip this morning. “No, make that seven, because traffic.”
“Hey—uh. I have something to tell you,” Pio said, his tone suddenly turning less flirty. “Remember when I told you Cassie looked familiar?”
Her brows furrowed. Why did Pio want to talk about Cassie now? “Uh, yeah? What about her?”
“I just realized where I’d seen her before.”
“Oh no, did you use to date her?”
“No. She’s into film and photography, and she owns this studio where we took Mom’s old photos for restoration work. And she’s also the only daughter of the president of the Montenegro Group of Companies...”
Audrey let him talk, though still unsure where this was going. She knew the Montenegro Group of Companies, though. Who didn’t? They owned several businesses in the Philippines and abroad, ranging from convenience store franchises to clothing lines to cosmetic services. If she remembered right, there were also rumors about the conglomerate being in talks with a TV station for a possible merger.
Wow, she thought. Luigi was really going after the big leagues.
“...and I’m not sure what’s going on, but I looked her up and she was recently seen dating some other guy. A politician’s son. So it’s possible she and your ex weren’t serious, or he’s been dumped. Either way, good riddance.”
If Pio’s assumptions were correct, did Luigi ruin their relationship for something so pathetically short-lived? Wow. If the universe had a back, she’d give it a pat—no, a hug—for a job well done.
“And can I say something else?”
“Go ahead, detective.”
Pio paused, as though deciding if he should say what he was planning to say. “I’m only saying this because I’m concerned that you’re still working at SFM. Do you have other options? I heard your company is going bankrupt.”
“What?”
“Kuya Datu heard it from a friend who used to work there.”
Impossible, she thought. How could SFM be going bankrupt when they even threw a lavish anniversary party? And how could Luigi have afforded that new luxury car if his company was on the verge of imploding?
And then, somehow, things started to make sense: Clients sending less and less work, her creative team being “disbanded” and sent to an affiliate start-up company, interns coming and going. Audrey had been too miserable over her breakup to notice the cracks on the surface, to see the signs pointing downhill. What on earth had Luigi done to bring Same Feather Media—a company she had grown to love—to the ground?
“This is...unbelievable.”
“I know. It might be too much to take in, I’m sorry.”
Her eyes began to sting with tears, recalling the past several months and the implications of everything that’s happened to her thus far. Luigi had always had an air of pompousness about him, and Audrey wouldn’t put it past him to have misused SFM’s funds to keep up appearances. It had happened before, when he decided to uproot their studio from a small office in Pasay City to a warehouse in the Makati Business District. Ayo was able to do something about it before it was too late, but now...
Now Audrey realized how everything could have been an act of desperation on Luigi’s part. Dating Cassie in the hopes of getting her or her family to invest was plausible. And when that didn’t pan out, he resorted to stealing Audrey’s work, morphing it into a hybrid, and selling it to a room full of people who didn’t know any better.
“Audrey? Are you crying?”
“I’m okay,” she replied with a small laugh, wiping her tears away. “It just occurred to me that I am such a lucky girl…to have been dumped by Luigi Blanco.”
NINETEEN
P io spent his Saturday morning in Teatro Lakambini’s workshop room, seated behind the electronic piano and facilitating vocal rehearsals for their young students’ upcoming recital. Erin, being the more patient of them both, handled stage direction.
Toward the end of the morning session, Ramon, who was handling a dance class at the main theatre downstairs, poked his head through the workshop room door. Both Pio and Erin looked up from what they were doing, but Ramon simply pointed at Pio and snuck out.
“All right, kids, let’s take five,” Pio announced and got up from his seat. “We’ll run through the entire thing after the break, okay?”
The response was an enthusiastic “Yes, Kuya Pio!” followed by the thud of tiny footsteps on the wooden floor as the children scampered to various parts of the room where they left their bags and water bottles. Pio left his spot behind the piano and stepped out of the room to find Audrey there, luggage and all. A sight for sore eyes, if you asked him.
“Whoa!” He glanced at his watch; it was only almost noon. “What are you doing here?”
She shrugged and laughed. “I have no idea. I got off the bus and thought, ‘Hey, why don’t I surprise Pio?’” Audrey raised a small plastic bag. “I brought you chocolate crinkles, choco mallows, and choco flakes.”
“You mean diabetes,” he corrected, crossing the hall to give her a big hug, arms familiarizing themselves around her small frame. A faint laugh escaped him when he dropped a kiss on her
hair and caught a whiff of a lemony scent that reminded him of those pine-tree-shaped car air fresheners.
Has it only been two days since he last saw her? Holding her like this felt like he’d been missing her for weeks.
“And here I thought I was the one who had a surprise for you,” he murmured into her hair.
Audrey’s eyes shone with curiosity when she looked up at him. “What surprise?”
“Wait.”
Pio’s hand flew to Audrey’s wrist, keeping her from unlocking the door to her apartment. The sound of jingling keys floated between them as she stared at him with a jerked eyebrow.
“I just want to say you can totally charge me for...” he cleared his throat. “Damages. In case you end up not liking what I did.”
“Jesus, Pio—you’re making me nervous. What exactly have you done?” She pushed her key into the door knob and twisted it open, fumbling for the light switch before crossing the threshold.
Heart caught in his throat, Pio stood behind her and waited until light flooded the apartment, revealing a wall of photos encased in elegant black frames. Audrey took the sight in and turned to look at Pio, gratitude gleaming in her eyes.
“Surprise,” he said, the word coming out of him like a relieved breath. “Welcome home.”
She walked toward the wall the way someone would approach something that might flee when startled. Like a wild rabbit. Or a deer. Pio closed the door behind him and put her luggage away before joining her, watching her admire photos of her childhood, of happier times when all she could have worried about was doing well in school, or going through puberty, or graduating college.
“How in the world—” she blurted out, turning to him.
“I got in touch with Viv and met your family two days ago,” he answered with a smug smile. He was standing beside her now, hands behind his back like a spectator at an art gallery. Tilting his head toward her, he added, “I got grilled by your mom a little bit.”