This Crazy Rich Boy

It's hard to get what Gabriel Tan is really thinking at any given moment. He's like the weather, or some typhoon—sometimes you never know which direction he's taking next. Like now. Just a moment ago, Claire was so impressed about the story of how Gabriel Tan had saved Lucille's family. How he must be some sort of a knight in shining armor. But now, as Gabriel Tan scowls at them, Claire realizes there's much more to him than meets the eye. At the very least, Gabriel Tan is a puzzle.

"Lucille, please leave us alone," he says.

Lucille makes a hurried bow and leaves the room, carefully closing the door as she slips out.

Gabriel stares at her. "Don't believe anything she just said," he says.

"What do you mean?" Claire says, stopping in mid-munch—there's still food in her mouth. She eyes the pot of coffee longingly, desiring to wash down the pastries with a mug of steaming caffeine. But they're in that awkward situation now. Reaching over the table to get the coffee pot, pour its contents into her mug, drinking it, waiting a moment for the liquid to settle in her belly, after which only then she could tell Gabriel, "What's wrong with what Lucille had said?" That would be awkward. So she sits there, food in her mouth and all, and mumbles, "Was she lying?"

Gabriel shakes his head. "No," he says. "I mean, I don't want people talking about what I've done or what I think. I don't appreciate anyone who makes the ȧssumption that they know me, know my motives. I don't like it."

"But are you denying everything that Lucille has said."

Gabriel turns to her. "Maybe."

Oh, that's helpful, Claire thinks. Now Gabriel Tan is really "turning on the charm" this time. She makes a big shrug and says, "It doesn't matter, really. It doesn't concern me whom you helped or whose lives you saved or if you're really a lousy person or not. What concerns me is what am I doing here?"

"You're here because you're my fiancée," Gabriel mutters as he ambles toward the window. "You'll do fine here. Servants will serve you. Everything you need will be given. I just need you here for a few more days."

"What? Are you serious?"

"Do I have to repeat myself?"

"But I have a life! And I've never thought I'd stay here longer than a few hours. We had a deal—"

"And the deal's the same," Gabriel says. "Nothing of it changes. You still get a year and a month's full salary if you are able to fulfill my requirements of work for a whole month. I remember the deal down to the last letter. I remember every word of the Red Contract."

"Then why this? This doesn't seem like it's part of the deal!"

"Will you calm down?" Gabriel is a bit irritated now. "You can treat this as a special project under the same deal, understand? That's why there's extra compensation. That's why there's a month on top of a full year."

"No," Claire says firmly. "The job was about attending the party last night. Last night only. And it expired at the break of dawn. The special project isn't about extending it to a few more days with me staying here like some sort of prisoner."

"Oh, my God, Miss Monteverde, are you even serious? Does any of this feel like you're in prison? Look around you?"

Claire actually looks around her, and sees what he means.

"You're treated like a queen here. Nobody knows—well, maybe Lopez the butler knows—but the household is fully in the belief that you're my actual fiancée. That you've descended from royalty."

Claire gotta laugh. "Royalty? Me? Do I look like there's blue blood coursing through my veins?"

"I meant that figuratively, Jesus." Gabriel sighs. "The point is, you won't even be inconvenienced. We're just extending your stay here, just in case Michelle comes in checking. You'll have everything you'll need. It's not like you have a busy schedule in the next few days. Won't you like it? You'll be pampered here while getting paid handsomely."

"And the point is," Claire says, "if this is another special project apart from last night's project, then every day of my stay here should be treated as its own distinct special project. Which means there should be additional compensation."

Gabriel stares at her. "You're so greedy," he says. He falls silent for a while.

Claire almost regrets what she just said. The truth is, she's delighted to stay—between this mansion and her cramped apartment that she shares with Karen and Lena, it's a no-brainer—who would, in their right mind, choose that dingy, cramped apartment, whose toilet sometimes gets clogged so badly? If she's honest, she wouldn't charge more for these so-called "special projects"—she'd be delighted to just be here, spend a few days cocooned in this distinct luxury. But then again, she's speaking with Gabriel Tan, and for a man like this one, there's no free lunch—everything must have a price. She has to put on the façade of a calculative, merciless business partner. Because, at bottom, this is just a business arrangement, right?

"So a week of extra pay for every day of my stay here," Claire says. "Do we have a deal?"

Gabriel squints at her, his mind running a few calculations. "At the rate at which this thing is going, you'll be a billionaire at the end of the month," Gabriel said, unsmiling.

"Then isn't that just grand?" Claire chirps, ignoring Gabriel's tone. "Do we have a deal, or should I gather my things and leave?"

"You have no 'things', remember," Gabriel said. "You were wearing the dress I made you wear when you came in."

"I meant that figuratively, Jesus," Claire sighs. "Why do you have to be such a small man?"

Gabriel says nothing. They gazed at each other for a moment. Gabriel sighs. He extends a hand to the still-seated Claire. "Alright, we have a deal."

Claire awkwardly shakes his hand; she still has bread crumbs on her palm, for pete's sakes.

"Firm handshake, I like that," Claire comments, playfully squeezing Mr. Tan's hand. "I appreciate your business, Mr. Tan." She smiles.

And despite himself, Gabriel Tan has to smile too, realizing how utterly surreal this whole arrangement is. "I, uhh, appreciate your business, too, Miss Monteverde."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I must have my business breakfast, please," Claire says, expecting Gabriel Tan to disappear. Yet, he stays there, standing. Claire shrugs, and resumes eating.

The eggs, previously divinely poached and warm, are now cold and greasy. The bacon has lost its crispiness. And the coffee's almost gone. These things do not escape Gabriel Tan's attention.

"You need a full refill, Miss Monteverde," he says, as he presses a buŧŧon on the wall. Three seconds, and Lucille is back at the door, pushing another trolley.

Claire is so surprised and impressed that she almost stood up. "Lucille? How did you know…"

"We anticipate our master's needs, Miss Claire," Lucille chirps. "We know everything."

Gabriel looks on as Lucille deftly replaces the dishes on the table with a fresh batch of everything, and then some: she also arranges another set of plates and cutlery on the opposite side of the table.

"Whose plate is that?" Claire says. "Do we have another guest?"

Lucille doesn't know how to answer it. She glances uneasily at Gabriel Tan, who's standing there and seemingly waiting for her to finish up.

"Miss Claire, what do you mean?"

"That extra plate. Whose plate is that?" In all fairness, Claire is really innocently bewildered—she's thinking there must be some other guest who's coming.

Gabriel clears his throat. "It's mine, honey," he says. "I've decided we should have breakfast together. Celebrate our recently forged engagement. Remember, you're my fiancée? Lovers like us should have breakfast together, don't you think?"

Claire secretly cringes at "lovers like us"; what the heck is wrong with this guy? One moment he's so suave, the next moment he's awkwardness and silliness personified. "Oh, how sweet of you, my lover, err, I mean, honey!" Claire tries not to giggle. "Please let us have breakfast together as two recently engaged people, or lovers."

Gabriel glares at her. If Claire keeps up with this, Lucille might sense that this is all some kind of joke. "Thank you, my…Err, I mean, Claire." Ostensibly, Gabriel takes the seat opposite her.

Claire is trying hard not to giggle that she has reddened in the face. She stabs an egg, fried sunny-side-up and still steaming, but the egg falls apart and the yolk gushes out. "Look, even the egg is trying to be hilarious."

"There's nothing hilarious about us having breakfast together, honey," Gabriel says sternly.

"Yes, I completely agree with you, my lover," Claire says, now giggling.

"Why are you laughing then?" Gabriel still tries to keep a straight face in front of Lucille the maid.

"I'm not laughing," Claire says. "I'm just so happy that you are eating breakfast with me, my lover!"

Gabriel glares at her and mouths out wordlessly, "Stop saying 'my lover'!" That finally sends Claire to laugh out loud.

Even Lucille is confused about how to behave or what to do—she's having a hard time following what seems to be a secret conversation between the couple. She meekly excuses herself, and slips out of the room.

As the heavy doors bang shut, Gabriel Tan faces his fake fiancée. "Come on. Stop it, Miss Monteverde. We can't play that kind of game. If anyone here catches on what we're up to, I'm telling you, the deal will be forfeited."

"Alright!" Claire puts her hands up in mock surrender. "I'll behave, then. Now, are you really having breakfast with me?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Are you sure? Isn't this what you people call 'peasant food'?"

"Don't be silly." Gabriel shoves stacks of bacon and eggs on his plate and begins eating rather voraciously. Yolk dribbles down his chin, but he doesn't wipe it off and just continues eating. Claire watches him in amazement; she feels as though she's seeing a rare side of Gabriel Tan, a side that the world outside almost never sees.

"What?" Gabriel says, noticing her staring at him.

"Nothing," Claire says. She points to his chin. "You eat like a pig. Yolk down your chin."

"I don't care," Gabriel says. "This is how I eat. I eat in utter abandon. You should see me make love."

"Eww!" Claire grimaces. "Please don't even try to describe your sėx life to me, Mr. Tan."

Claire makes a face as though she's disgusted. But deep inside, she wonders: So how is Gabriel Tan in bed? Is he a tender lover, or a hard, acrobatic, demanding one? Would she even have a chance to know? It's weird: everyone else in the mansion thinks they're the real deal, a true couple. Yet here she is, wondering about the peculiar ways Gabriel Tan makes love with his women.

"Stop staring at me like that," Gabriel says. "It makes me think you're falling in love with me, Miss Monteverde. We can't have that. This is purely business." He grins.

"Not in a million years," Claire says. But as she quietly sips her coffee, she wonders: is it really impossible? What if she actually falls in love with this man?

What if?