CHAPTER 1

WHEN AMBERT LIFTED his eyes from the documents he was reading on his desk, he saw two women standing beside the door of his office, looking at him.

One of these women was Louise, his twenty-six year old secretary. Louise, married for four years now and had two daughters, was beautiful. But the woman standing beside her, who looked in her mid-twenties, was far prettier and more gorgeous. Louise stood at five feet seven inches and looked only an inch taller than the other woman. And he loved what the other woman—why was he calling her the other woman, he almost smiled, she had a name, he was just forgetting it at the moment—was wearing: pink blouse, black slacks, medium-long black hair and silky white skin. She was carrying a laptop bag in one hand and a cell phone in the other.

Her lips instantly formed into an enthusiastic smile when their eyes met—and it made his heart bounce a little faster and louder, which was quite unusual. His heart, they said, was made of steel and wasn’t easy to excite.

“Sir,” Louise said, “she’s Layla and she said you were expecting him.”

Layla, yes, that was her name. It should have been easy to remember. Layla, like the Eric Clapton song. Layla, you’ve got me on my knees, Layla, I’m begging, darling, please, he sang mentally, carefully so his lips wouldn’t move.

Two days ago, he received a call from his good friend, who was her boss, Anika. Anika was a TV producer and director and Layla was one of her researchers and writers. And Layla was here in his office to interview him as a preparation for his guesting on Listen! one of Anika’s TV shows, a lifestyle and public affairs program. He would talk about his business and the business climate in the country. He was quite an authority on those subjects, of course, as he was considered one of the most prominent businessmen in the country. Aside from the handsomest, Anika would say. The interview Layla would conduct today would also land on Anika’s F******k page.

“A, yes, Layla,” he said and glanced at the vacant chair in front of his desk.  “Have a seat please.”

Louise smiled at Layla and left after closing the door behind her.

Layla casually walked to the chair and sat.

And she was more beautiful up close—her face was very refreshing, enough to quickly vanish a headache. The scent was faint, but he still could smell very-pleasing-to-the-nose perfume.

“Hello, sir,” she greeted him as she put her cell phone down on the table,

“Please call me Ambert,” he said.

“Hello, Ambert,” she readily acquiesced, smiling. Her voice was as pretty and as refreshing as her face. “I am Layla and Miss Anika told me to come here to you and talk to you.”

“How’s Anika?”

“She’s doing fine, sir, I mean, Ambert.”

“And how are you?”

“I’m doing fine, too. And how are you?”

He smiled and leaned back in his chair. “I’m doing well, too.”

“I will quickly get down to business as I know you’re a very busy man,” Layla said as she put out a small notebook from the laptop bag. She glanced at it and then looked at him again. “Ma’am Anika made these questions so I hope they’d be fine with you,” she said with a chuckle.

“Anika has already asked for forgiveness for that and I have forgiven him,” he smiled, and she chuckled again.

“At what age did you decide that you will be a businessman?”

“I think it was my father who decided that for me,” he answered. “I was six years old, then, I think, when he told me that I would be a businessman. And I thought then that a businessman was some kind of a superhero, like Superman.” He softly shook his head. “Far from it. A lot of businessmen are villains.”

“Are you one of the villains?”

“I think not,” he grinned.”

“And that is a true story?” she asked. “Your father telling you that he wanted you to be a businessman when you were six.”

“He told me he wanted me to follow his footsteps, which was being a businessman, that’s a true story,” he said. “At what age, I have forgotten. But I’m sure, I was still a child then. Oh, you want accuracy in this interview?”

“Anika wants it, yes.”

“Oh, nothing but accurate replies from me then.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “But you really wanted to be a businessman?”

“When I was in high school, I wanted to be a lawyer,” he intimated. “But when I was about to graduate, I was already certain that I’d be taking up a business course.”

She flipped a page on her notebook and was quiet for a few moments. “Do you have a girlfriend now?” she said after a while.

He grinned. “Anika didn’t know the answer to that?” he asked.

“It is included in the questionnaire she gave me.”

“I’ve been single for almost a year now,” he said. Layla raising an eyebrow, like she didn’t believe it, amused him a bit. “No, that’s true,” he insisted. “I told you, only accurate answers from me.”

“I believe it.”

“Oh,” he quipped, a bit embarrassed. Okay, raising an eyebrow didn’t always mean you doubted something. Maybe, it was her reaction whenever she heard something that made her happy. So hearing that he had been single for almost a year made her happy? He grinned—when did he become assuming— and he saw that little eyebrow of her again doing some little acrobatics while she looked at him. What did it mean now? Okay, he probably should stop giving meaning to her face’s every little reaction.

“What happened to you and Miss Llarenaz? Why did you break up?” she asked while looking at her little notebook.

“It’s all over the Internet, I think.”

“They’re all speculations, no direct interviews with the two of you,” she said with the voice that hinted of disappointment.  

“Speculations like what?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Like there was a third party.”

“Whose third party?”

She looked straight into his eyes, unblinking. “You.”

“He laughed.

“You will not defend yourself?” she asked.

“I’ve repeatedly refused to answer and dignify that malicious gossip.”

“So it’s not true?”

“Yes,” he said. He should already be annoyed at that time, but no, there wasn’t the slightest urge in him to abruptly cancel the interview and show her the door. He liked that there was earnest interest on Layla about his love life. “So I think Anika would understand me if I’d refuse to answer that,” he continued, trying not to show any positive emotion in his voice.

Olivia, the Miss Llarenaz Layla was referring to, was his former girlfriend. They broke up almost a year ago. She won as Miss Universe while they were in a relationship. She was twenty five then. She was five years younger than him.  And she was beautiful, statuesque and regal, very deserving to win the title and be given a fiefdom. And the moment she started wearing her crown and flashing her mesmerizing beauty queen smile, the relationship started going downhill. He didn’t like the attention she was getting, the attention which she seemed obsessed with. He was peeved with the suddenly little attention she was giving him. The universe had been given to her and Ambert seemingly was a just a little, ignorable, inconsequential star.

Olivia, now crownless, was a TV star now and a famous vlogger. Aside from talking about herself and what she was presently doing, she interviewed celebrities on her vlog. But he hadn’t fully watched any of her TV shows or vlogs, just glimpses of it. And no, he didn’t feel any regrets or remorse that they fell apart and she was now engaged to an actor.

Ambert wanted to scratch his forehead. Why would Anika ask about Olivia? He had told her everything that happened between him and Olivia. She knew the whole story. He felt he was obligated to tell her the story of their breakup because it was Anika who introduced Olivia to her. So why would she include Olivia in her questionnaire? So she could have the authority to post it on her F******k page? He warned her that it was off the record, the story of her breakup with Olivia, when he decided to tell it to her. Now, Layla didn’t mention any off-the-record thingy.

“Yes, she’d probably understand,” she said, slightly nodding.

“Maybe, I should call Anika,” he said, still looking at her while getting hold of his cell phone on top of his desk.

“Why?”

“I’d ask her on why she’s asking these questions,” he said. If she was lying about the questions, that Anika didn’t really want her to ask him about it, that it was her who really wanted to ask that question because she wanted to know if he was still single, it would show on her face, like she’d be apprehensive or something.  She had all the reasons to become apprehensive as it would cost her her job.  But then, why would she lie about the questions? Why would she want to know if he was currently single or not? Because she was already smitten on him and she would want to know if she had a chance of connecting with him, which wasn’t really surprising as he was too irresistible to the opposite sex? He stopped himself from grinning at his joke. No, he shook his head, he wasn’t being cocky, he just wanted to know if she was interested on him.

Something in his mind was telling him that it was important that he knew.

Because he was interested on her.

But there was no apprehension on her face, nor a tiny bit of alarm, nor fear nor guilt, no anything that would give a hint on her doing some little mischief which could soon be uncovered. The only expression on her face right at that moment was bewilderment—bewildered on why he seemed to be talking and arguing with himself.

“Okay,” she said.

“Okay what?”

“You can call her while I review some of the questions here,” she shrugged.

“No, I’ve changed my mind,” he said, putting the phone don on his desk. “It’s okay, you can ask me anything.”

“I wish,” she smiled. “But I can only ask you these questions made by my boss.”

She then proceeded to ask her relevant questions, relevant meaning it wasn’t about his love life or his previous relationships. Questions she expected from Anika.  She was the last person that would ask him question fit for a slam book.

The interview lasted fifty minutes.

“Time for payback,” he said, smiling, while she was putting the notebook back in the laptop bag.

“Payback?” she asked him. There was that cute bewildered expression on her face again.

“I mean, can I also ask you some questions?”

Her face reddened a bit, which only made her prettier. “I don’t think that’s part of our deal today.” She contended.

“I’ll ask harmless questions, don’t worry,” he assured her.

“What is your definition of harmless?”

“Something that won’t make you lose sleep, something that you will probably forget once you step out of this building.”

“That sounds fair,” she commented. “How many questions are you going to ask?”

“I don’t know. How many are you going to allow?”

“One.”

“Three,” he bargained.

“Two.”

“Okay, two.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

He saw that eyebrow threatening to rise again. “No,” she said, with a bemused expression on her face again, and turned quiet.

He looked at his watch. “It’s almost twelve. Do you want to have lunch with me?”

“That’s the second question?”

“Yes.”

“You’re inviting me to have lunch with you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He wasn’t the type to beat around the bush. “So we’d get to know each other better.” He stood up; she was vacillating and needed a push. “In fact, we can go now. There’s a terrific Italian restaurant just across this building. And if you don’t like Italian food, beside it is a magnificent Japanese restaurant whose sushi is world-class.”

And he didn’t like the reaction he saw on her face.

Like the invitation didn’t make her happy.