This Crazy Rich Boy

If Gabriel Tan's crazy enough to lend her the whole building, then how about she matches his craziness?

"If this is really my residence, everyone is at my beck and call, correct?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Dale says as he opens the door to her suite.

"And everything I want done, you'll accomplish?"

"With the exception of an order that points to the Residence's self-destruction, then yes, Miss Claire," Dale says. "Say anything, and we'll gladly do it."

"Okay," Claire says, a mischievous smile creeping across her face as she takes off her shoes and tosses them on the carpet. "Then my first order is…"

Dale dutifully listens to her request, then he speaks to his earpiece. A moment later, the disco beats of Blondie's "Heart of Glass" is heard throughout the ten-story hotel.

Claire lets her hair down as soon as Dale leaves, grooving to the music, her hɨps swaying.

"Oh, my god!" Claire mutters to herself. "This is amazing."

She lets the water run, turns on the jetted tub, and pours an entire bottle of bubble bath in the water.

She lets her clothes drop right then and there, enthralled by the sight of the city before her. The sky is clear and blue, with a few streaks of white—it's a picture she rarely sees from her former part of the city.

So this is what you get when you're rich, or when you can finally afford to buy the best things in life—a sight like this. It's all so beautiful. So why do most of the rich—like Michelle Alcantara and Gabriel Tan—such grumpy, angry people?

When she thinks the water's ready, the foam just right, Claire slips into the Jacuzzi. The delicious sensation is overwhelming—she never experienced luxury like this before. She never felt so sensually good like this. As a regular human being, all Claire had was a bathroom with four walls around it, and a dingy bathtub. There was no element of pŀėȧsurė—it was all practical, as taking a bath was just one of the things you do to ready yourself to face the world every single miserable day of your life.

But not here. Here, everything is elevated to an art, brought to certain heights of luxury. Claire half-closes her eyes, the warm water ċȧrėssing her flesh. If only this could last long. If only she could live like this for the rest of her life. But sadly, all this would end in less than a month. Claire has to keep on reminding herself that there's a place where she belongs, and it's not here. This is a fake engagement. Gabriel Tan is an employer, if a little kooky. But a good kind of kooky at times.

She must have fallen asleep, because when she opens her eyes, the shadows have slightly shifted. She feels good. Must have been a thirty-minute nap or so. She wills her body to move, and it obeys her command so languidly. Not an hour in this suite and already Claire's own body is clinging to the idea of not having to work your ȧss off to earn a living.

She stands up and towel-dries her body. She puts on the wardrobe she finds in a dresser, still bearing the "Ilustrados Hotel" logo.

She walks around, exploring the rest of the suite. She checks the dining table, and discovers a bountiful spread: all kinds of pastries, fruits, with a baked turkey in the middle, its legs jutting upward so invitingly. In the corner of the table, a bottle of champagne sits in ice.

"If you're giving all this to me, Mr. Gabriel Tan," Claire mutters, as she dances still to "Heart of Glass" (it has been playing on auto-loop because Dale is such a wonderful concierge), "then I will gladly take it."

Then she pulls out the remaining turkey leg, and with it in one hand, and the champagne bottle in the other, Claire dances and sways her way back to the suite's living area.

"Once I had a love and it was a gas," Claire sings, "soon turned out had a heart of glass."

She takes a big bite off the turkey leg, washes it down with the champagne, as she sways her hɨps in her bathrobe.

"Seemed like the real thing, only to find," she sings, a little out of tune. "Mucho mistrust, love's gone behind…"

"Uhh, Miss Monteverde," a voice says from behind her.

She turns and sees Gabriel standing at the door. She's so shocked the champagne bottle slips from her hand.

"Uhh, I just forgot to tell you," he says, obviously trying not to laugh. "Please swing by Leed's later and get my clothes?"

Claire stares dumbly at him, Blondie's song still playing in the air.