The Crazy Afternoon

Back at the office, as soon as Gabriel steps into his room, his mood suddenly changes.

"Didn't I tell you to call me up if you're gonna be late?" He yells, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Claire is stumped—she couldn't tell if he's bluffing or what. Is this an act?

"What?" Gabriel says, irritably, his eyes red with anger. "Are you just standing there like a tree stump? Did I hire you just to be a stupid blonde bitch?"

That's it. This isn't an act. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tan," she says, also loud enough for everyone to hear outside the room. "But don't you remember you sent me to check out a jewelry store for a ring to give to your new fiancée?" If this is a pretend game, she's not going to let him outsmart her.

"My new fiancée?" Rage quivers on Gabriel's face. "Who told you anything about my fiancée, you bitch!" He grabs a nearby mug and smashes it against the wall. Not contented, he grabs the vase on the coffee table and throws it with such force out the door, that the vase goes straight down the hallway and explodes as it hits furniture.

Every employee on the floor cowers behind their cubicle. Gabriel Tan is really back in form. May God have mercy on the new executive assistant's soul!

"But sir, you really did send me!" Claire's voice quakes, as if she's about to cry.

"Shut up! Your first day, and already you're full of shit!"

Gabriel Tan then slams his office's door shut.

They both stand there for a moment, stewing in the sudden silence of everything.

"I guess now Claudia and Mary's earlier speculation about the two of us would be wiped out by that performance, don't you think?" He says as soon as they're unseen, with that mischievous smirk on his pretty face.

"I guess so," Claire says, breathing a sigh of relief. "That thing with the vase was a bit overkill, though."

"That's necessary, Claire," he says as he drops on his big swivel chair and puts his feet up on the desk. "Strike fear in their hearts, that's what I always say."

So that's your little management style, Claire thinks. She wonders what Mary's thinking now after seeing this performance. And Claudia. Would they have bought up this show?

"So what now?"

He shrugs. "Wait and see. Why don't you sit down while we wait?"

She really feels a bit awkward about this whole situation, yet gingerly Claire sits down on the sofa. She feels like she's being interviewed again. More and more, she's finding her feelings so confusing—to be so near Gabriel Tan, and yet to feel so far.

The phone rings, and Gabriel answers it. He begins talking animatedly as he discusses the finer points of an impending merger. Claire tries not to listen to the conversation, but it's impossible not to. She's a captive audience here. The minutes tick by. And when she feels she's waited long enough, she signals to Gabriel that she's going out. Gabriel nods, still on the phone, his mind elsewhere, not here, not with Claire.

At the end of the day, I'm just an employee, Claire thinks as she sits down at her desk and starts pretending to work. She catches furtive glances from people. Looks of pity. Looks of people who are witnessing tragedy unfold, is what they think.

She taps on the keyboard, pretending to type some business letter. Anything to complete the act. What they see is some blonde secretary who's still trying to work despite the aggravation of a brutal boss. Maybe she should start whimpering, too? She pulls out a Kleenex and wipes a corner of an eye, as though she's trying her best not to cry. Genius.

AND THE ACADEMY AWARD FOR BEST ACTRESS GOES TO…

"Nasty, isn't he?"

She looks up and Jake Magno's there, looking every inch a gentleman out to save a damsel in distress.

"What did you do to deserve flying vases and coffee mugs? Did you screw it up big time?"

Claire sniffles. "All I did was follow orders," she mutters through her nose. "I'm not sure I can survive another day here."

"Oh, no, don't be like that," Jake says. "It's a small matter. You can get used to it. At least he didn't throw the vase AT YOU."

"Is it wise to wait for him to start doing that?"

Jake shakes his head. "He's never done that."

"But still," she says. "The emotional aggravation, the torture. No wonder everyone who had come before me lasted only a day or two."

"Three days was the longest," Jake offers. "But, uhh, you know, if you really wanna quit, maybe you can reconsider my offer."

Claire's brow knits in confusion. "What offer?"

"You know," Jake says, looking around as if afraid somebody overhears him. "Uhh, remember earlier I offered dinner? May I reiterate that? We can talk about these things over a nice steak and wine, you know."

Jake Magno's a snake, Mary had mentioned at the copy room earlier. A womanizer who uses his charms and the clout that comes with his stellar performance as a sales manager to seduce unwitting newbies. Mary's words echo in Claire's head as she stares at Jake's mouth saying the words, "Would love to talk with you about everything under the sun, see where the night takes us." Jake flashes what he probably thinks is his killer smile.

"Let me think about that," Claire says, not really intending to think about it.

Jake makes a face of frustration. "Come on, Bella. Let me tell you a secret." He actually stoops down so he can whisper in her ear. "I'm sick. I only have three days to live. All I want is a nice dinner with a nice woman before I won't be able to do anything but lie on my death bed."

Claire stares at him. She's heard a lot of bullshit in her life, but the stuff that comes out of Jake Magno's mouth is truly A-grade bullshittery. The man's a true bullshit artist. No wonder he's moved a lot of product.

Jake makes a wan smile, like he's actually kind-hearted or something. "Come on," he says. "Make a dying man happy."

Of course, Claire's not buying this, not even a bit, but something about Jake makes her think twice: what if she accepts, wouldn't that be an additional ruse to redirect attention away from Gabriel and her? People like Claudia and Mary would utterly abandon their speculation about what they'd seen at the Residence earlier, or whatever dirty conclusions they'd derived when Gabriel Tan took her by the hand.

"Come on," Jake insists. "Don't say no, please."

"Okay," she says. "Okay, let's try that."

The effect of her response on Jake's face is instantaneous and indescribable; he actually licks his lips in anticipation of a night with her. "Jesus, that's my girl!"

"Just dinner, okay? Not late night."

"Sure," he says. He's heard that line before from a lot of girls. It means no possibility of after-dinner sex. But it's also just a façade—always they say yes, anyway; always they relent after a glass or two of wine. "Just dinner" easily becomes "Oh, God, yes! Yes! Yes!" in his bed a few hours later. And Bella seems easy.

"Just dinner," Jake reassures her with a smirk on his face. "Let's go straight there after office, yes?"

"Sure," Claire says.

"Then it's a date!" Jake excitedly grabs her in a quick embrace—Claire could swear he ran his hand on her butt—then struts away like he'd just won a million dollars.

Just dinner, Claire tells herself. No monkey business.

Dinner and more, Jake Magno hopes, emphasis on the "more" part. He slips into the men's room and checks his wallet if he still has his ribbed condoms there. He will be using his little rubbery "friends" later, he thinks, come hell or high water. He'll have a fun night with Bella Xavier, bombshell extraordinaire, she just doesn't know it yet.