This Crazy Rich Boy

When Claire finally reappears, Jake couldn't help but gawk at the sight of her.

"Did you do something in the ladies' room? You look even lovelier."

This time, despite her own misgivings, Claire blushes. "Thank you," she says. "But flattery doesn't work on me."

"It's true," he insists. "You're utterly hot."

"Oh, stop it."

Claire stares at her food, as though finding something strange.

"What is it?" Jake gulps. Did she notice?

"Uhh, my salad," she says. "Did anyone touch it?"

Jake fake-laughs. "Oh, no, no. I'd never let anyone touch that. I was just here. Not even the waiter came."

Claire looks at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

She tentatively stabs her salad with a fork, and tries a lettuce. "Too much oil," she says. She smiles. "But tastes fine."

Jake breathes a sigh of relief. He eyes Claire's glass of wine, as though fearing it would start talking about what he did.

"I'd like to know," Claire says, "what really made you to ask me out?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's your striking personality that compelled me to pop the question." He grins.

"Really? You can see a person's personality at first sight?" She places her fork on her plate as though she's done eating. "But come on, Jake. What was it that you first saw in me?"

Jake hesitates. Of course, he would never tell the truth. Like any other man, the first thing that caught his attention was Bella Xavier's incredible curves. She's wearing this wonderful number, for Christ's sakes, that compelled him to imagine how Bella must look nȧkėd! It emphasized her cleavage, which from the looks of it were genuine, not fake. And he's not sure, but there's something about Bella's face that seems so sensual. Is it that cute mole on her right cheekbone? Those inviting lips that resemble a bird in flight? Or is it the way her blond hair complements the overall package, like some wonderful cherry on top of a gorgeous tall glass of strawberry ice cream?

Jake isn't sure what to say to her. All he knows is he's terribly attracted to this girl—to the extent he has immediately unleashed the secret Jake Magno treatment: the white powder that would knock her out if she ever makes the mistake of drinking that wine. And drink, she will.

"I don't know," he mutters at length. "Maybe your eyes. You've got very beautiful eyes. They're so expressive. I feel like I could get lost in them."

Claire cringes. "Oh, my God! That's not only corny. It's cornichon!"

He laughs. "What can I do? That's the truth."

Claire holds the glass of wine, and she appears to take a sip. Seeing it, Jake almost forgets to breathe.

But she stops and holds the glass in the air, examining it. "So this is a Riesling, isn't it? I've never had a glass of this kind of wine before."

"Well, uhh, that's perfect to pair for your salad."

"Oh, you know a lot about wines, don't you?"

He shrugs. "I know just enough for certain purposes." Such as for the purpose of raping people, his mind darkly thinks. "Like this, being on a date with a gorgeous woman. It helps that I know which wine to pair with what my date orders. That takes off the pressure from her, so she can focus and enjoy the dinner, and not worry about anything else."

"Do you know that telling a gorgeous woman she's gorgeous is the most surefire way to bore to death said woman?"

"Well, that's only true if said gorgeous woman already knows how gorgeous she is, if she has lived her life getting all the attention for her looks." Jake forks a piece of steak. "But you're not that kind of woman, are you, Bella? You don't know you're gorgeous, that's why you behave like an ordinary girl."

Claire says nothing. She stares into the wine, as if trying to divine the future from the clear liquid.

"Am I correct?" Jake says. "You're a late bloomer, aren't you? Let me guess. You were tomboyish in your teens, or maybe big-boned. You really didn't develop all these charms that now take my breath away until your late teens. Maybe in college. But by then everything's awkward for you. You're not used to getting the attention, so you dismiss it. Maybe you're even annoyed by it. Sometimes you feel it's all a joke, that you're suddenly pretty. That's why, too, the absence of a boyfriend. You've had your doors closed for a long time, that when it opened, you don't know how to let in people."

Claire sighs; despite everything she feels about Jake, couldn't deny the truth. "Why do you know so much about these things?"

He shrugs. "I'm a salesman, Bella. I sell and move product because I know the human psyche. But please tell me first: am I spot-on?"

"Well," she hesitates. "Yes and no. Yes, I was an ugly duckling. Growing up, nobody paid any attention to me. So I spent most of my time alone, lost in a world of books. I focused on maintaining the few friends I had, who only eventually betrayed me when they found it convenient to do so. I was alone. I couldn't rely on my peers. So I took revenge on my fate by excelling in class. I was so busy studying and taking part in all those extra-curricular activities that I didn't notice it when boys started paying attention. Boys were asking me out, and I didn't know what to do. I tried one, who turned out to be a jerk. He only wanted to get into my pants."

"Really?" Jake nervously gulps down his red wine. "Do you mean he didn't succeed? That's you're still a vɨrġɨn, right at this very moment?"

"Eww!" Claire cringes. "The way you say 'virgin', it's like you're too excited."

Jake laughs. "Sorry."

"Do you think you're getting a piece of this? Hell, no." Claire laughs.

"I certainly didn't mean anything like that," he says. "And what about the second one. You said 'yes and no'. What's the 'no' part?"

Claire's silent for a while, fiddling with what remains of her salad. "Well, it isn't true that I don't know how to let people in. It's just that at this point in my life, I'm confused. I think I'm falling for someone, but I also know I have no chance in this world to be with that someone. Sometimes I spend hours just wondering if things were different, if we met in a different circumstance, would it have been better? I don't know. That's why I try to just focus on the work. On my job, right now. I try not to think about him and what he represents in my life."

"Oh, sorry."

"No need to be sorry. At least you deserve the truth. Which also means this is a friendly date, Jake. If you're thinking taking this further, then I'm telling you: you're not getting a piece of this." She giggles so innocently that Jake feels an ache in his heart—an ache when he realizes he'll never have this wonderful person in his life. This is what he has, a moment, a few hours, and after this, nothing.

But.

Drink that wine, and maybe he could live with not having her in his life.

Claire swishes the wine in her glass; she's thinking about Gabriel Tan, and what he might be doing at this moment. Maybe he's cooking up new plans to hurt Michelle. Which also shows that, despite what everything he says, he still has some affection for his ex-fiancée. Actions speak louder than words, after all. Maybe he's in another part of the city. Maybe he's with another girl. And thinking about that—she's not sure, but a cloud of loneliness, of sadness, descends on her.

"A penny for your thoughts?" Jake says.

"Oh, nothing. I just… Nothing."

Claire gently places the glass of wine on the table. Jake eyes it with growing concern.

"Why not drink something. Whatever you're feeling, or whatever you think you're feeling, maybe a glass of wine can help." Jake smiles that winsome smile that has earned him a truckload of money.

"Yeah, why not?" Claire says, takes the wine, and gulps it down in one go.

Jake's jaws drop—Jesus, he didn't expect this girl to drink that glass of wine so easily.

Claire wipes her lips with the back of her hand. "Oh, my God, that was delicious."

"Yeah?" Jake's voice quakes in anticipation, carefully noting Bella's face for any changes. "I'll bring you a bottle next time."

"Really? That would be cool," she says. "You know what, Jake. You're actually a nice person. They told me you're a snake—Jake the Snake, hahahaha!—but you're actually cool. They told me to steer clear of you, that you would do something. But here you are, giving me a nice sensible conversation I've never had in years. Years, Jake. So, thank you. Thank you for—"

Claire suddenly drops on the table face-down, as if someone turned off the lights inside her.