You're welcome

"I realized that I just kept talking about myself, Vincent, and everyone. But I don't know a thing about you. Can I get to know you?"

Fil and Jackson stared at each other, letting the breeze blow at them as silence set in. After a minute, the corner of his lips curled up.

"You want to get to know me?" he asked, and she nodded. 

"Why? Don't you want me to?" she returned curiously. "Why are you laughing?"

"I just thought you'd never asked," he remarked. "All this time, I thought you were not that interested. Or perhaps my existence alone was interesting enough."

"I'm not looking for confirmation if you're a narcissist. I already know you are. But more like what do you do or something like that?"

"My job?"

"Not necessarily," she shrugged. "How about… hmm… how did you know Kim and Dustin?"

"Those two? Are you asking about me because you want to get to know me, or you're curious more about those two?"

Fil pressed her lips and slid her eyes to the corner, confessing, "Both."

"Tsk tsk tsk." Jackson sighed in disappointment but didn't dwell on it. "Let's see. I met them a long — very long time ago."

"Like a decade-long?"

"More like a century-long." He grinned while she frowned, thinking he just wouldn't stop himself from adding jokes every time he opened his mouth. "They were in a helpless situation and I helped them. Since then, they'd been in my life and no matter what I do, they wouldn't leave me alone."

Fil listened attentively, thinking of an entirely different scenario than the one he had in mind. "No wonder you're very close."

"Close?"

"Mhm. You and Kim might argue at every turn, but from how I see it, you were close just like what good friends are." Fil smiled, recalling how Jackson and Kim bantered. "It's almost cute and could make others envious."

"Are you jealous of her?" he smiled from ear to ear. "Because you think that witch and I might end up on the altar."

"You're full of nonsense," she laughed. "Why would I be jealous? Kim Rock is very beautiful; she wouldn't be called the nation's goddess for no reason. Even if you two ended up together, I'd just feel sorry for her."

"What did you say? Sorry, to whom?"

"After interacting with you two, I think she deserves better than having someone who sleeps around with a stranger."

"..."

"No offense."

"Well, lady, most people who say 'no offense' always follow it with an offensive remark."

"I'm just being truthful." Fil pouted, extending her arm to pass the bottle of wine to him. "You said I should speak my mind regardless if it would hurt other people's feelings. Especially if it's the truth."

Jackson reached for the bottle of wine and he said, "Am I being the lab rat here?"

"A bit."

"I wonder if this is called good karma or an omen."

"Just tell me if you don't like it," she said, looking away from him as she stared ahead. "Though I don't think anything will change."

"And why is that?"

"I don't know?" she shrugged. "I just felt like I might not be able to treat you differently like how I treat you."

Fil set her eyes back to him, smiling. "Maybe because we spent a night together, I feel less awkward telling you things. What else is there to hide? You've seen everything."

"Heh." Jackson snickered, chugging down the wine straight from the bottle. "I'll keep seeing it."

"How are you so sure about it?"

"I just know. I'm good-looking and charming according to a certain woman." He gave her a knowing look, wiggling his brows. "And I can have any woman underneath me if I want to."

"That's not what I meant." Fil looked away from him, massaging her nape. "Why do you always make me feel embarrassed?"

"You said it yourself, maybe because we spent a night together, I feel more comfortable teasing you."

Fil cleared her throat, watching him chug another mouthful before handing the wine to her. "Are you rich?"

"Hmm?" 

"Don't get me wrong, but I'm just a little curious," she explained as she took the bottle. "You have this luxury car, have bodyguards, friends with people like Mr. McGuire and Kim Rock. Not to mention, this thousand-year-old wine."

Fil paused, pondering on the right words so she wouldn't sound like she had ulterior motives for asking. "Are you… a mafia boss?"

For a moment, silence reigned between them, with Jackson looking at her with equal bafflement and amusement. Fil, on the other hand, blushed in embarrassment. The alcohol intake amplified the heat on her face.

"And what if I am?" he smirked, holding back his chuckles. "Will you change your mind about me?"

"Of course!" Fil exclaimed. "Who in their right mind wouldn't? A mafia boss means you're a criminal. Although they have a lot of money, they never have a single peaceful day. Who wants to live like that? All I want is a peaceful life."

Jackson laughed playfully. "Good thing I am not a mafia boss, but I know one."

"What?"

"He calls himself as my friend."

"Just how many friends do you have?"

"None." He shrugged nonchalantly. "They just claim to be my friends; I never say they were."

Jackson leisurely leaned back, propping his elbow against the hood as he cocked his head back to her. "I told you, didn't I? I'm a gentleman and a kind-hearted man. I help a lot of people in need."

"People in need... just like me," she blurted out quietly, making his lips stretch. 

"Not really." He looked away, smirking. "You're different."

"Different, in what way?" she asked, only to hear no response from him. Fil kept her gaze on his back, waiting and wondering if he would answer her question. But he didn't, leaving her curious as it lingered at the back of her head even when they moved on to another topic. 

*

*

*

"I should've known that night was just a beginner's tolerance," Jackson chuckled, snapping his eyes to the front passenger seat where Fil fell asleep. "She's actually a lightweight."

The corner of his lips curled up, setting his eyes on the road as he drove her home. 

"Mhm…" Fil let out a short moan, weakly opening her eyes. Seeing a man in the driver's seat through her blurry vision, she stretched her hand a little. She clipped her fingers on his sleeve as his hand was on the gearshift.

Jackson arched a brow, glancing at the front passenger seat. Fil smiled subtly, half-conscious and half-awake.

"Don't you dare smile at me like that, only to call me by another man's name," he warned nonchalantly. "I mean it."

"Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes slowly. "I mean it, Jack."

Before her grip on his sleeve fell, he caught her hand securely. He smiled, relieved. Putting her hand back to her, he clipped the blazer over her shoulder and pulled it up lightly.

"My pleasure, sweetheart."