That Girl On a Motorcycle

F o u r

He swiped the screen sideways and stared at the photo set as his background. It was all he needed to start his day. He had for the past six years and two months. He had been counting. Bitterly.

He slid his phone inside his coat pocket and stared blankly at the bright sky. Since the car in front of him was not moving, Ulric decided to take his eyes off the road and rummage through his case, finally finding his pair of shades. His new housekeeper had kindly reminded him to use one, and he was glad that he had enough sense to listen to her. He was not used to seeing such a cloudless sky.

While he waited for the morning traffic to ease, he checked the time on his dashboard and smiled grimly at what he saw.

9:07 am

It was not his intention to run late, but he was sure as hell that Mr. Harold Perez would once again tattle his misdemeanor to the president, who in turn would report back to his father. Just like he did when Ulric escaped from his own party.

The next morning, while nursing the worst hangover he had for years, his father called his phone at six in the morning and gave him a good earful. It lasted for about an hour, but he felt as if the lecture droned on for decades. If it was anyone but his old man, he would have hung up at the first second.

Harold Perez. That little tattler. Wait till he gets his hands on him.

9:39 am

He had never been to the road this early and had not anticipated the unruly congestion of private vehicles. If he had only known, he would have ordered take-away coffee and breakfast.

After a while, he turned up the radio, and when he could not find a tolerable station, he grumpily plugged in his phone and switched the speakers on.

Nobody should blame him when he comes out of this vehicle cranky.

.

The landscape before him was not particularly spectacular. Growing up and living in Upper Manhattan all his life, he was used to the sight of tall skyscrapers and grey buildings. Makati, as a business district, was no different.

Ulric was still not used to the heat, so he slightly loosened his tie and opened the first two buttons of his shirt. He ran his fingers through his brown hair, hoping to make himself at least presentable. It was three minutes before ten in the morning.

Traffic was hell. He thought the torture would never end.

He tossed his keys to one of the guards by the entrance and quickly strode inside without a word, leaving a lot of people gaping at him and the shiny red Jeep parked carelessly in front of the building.

“Where is the foreign affairs office?”

There was only one short-haired woman at the desk, and she appeared to be busy fiddling with papers bundled at her side.

“What for?”

He blinked. “I’m here for Harold Perez.”

The young employee did not look up, but began typing on the keyboard. “Do you have an appointment?”

Does he have an appointment? Harold Perez told him to attend an important board meeting today. It was scheduled to start at nine-thirty on the dot, but he requested to meet Ulric beforehand so that he could brief him about the company. He doubted that the man penciled showing him the ropes into his scheduler, seeing as the invitation was not exactly formal.

After a long pause, he gave her an honest answer. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” She sounded incredulous. He merely shrugged.

“I’m sorry.” It was not apologetic at all. “Only those who have appointments scheduled with his secretary can get a pass.”

“Oh?”

She finally lifted her gaze from the computer monitor and did a double-take. Not only because he was a foreigner wearing an expensive tailored suit, but also because his arrival had attracted a crowd. People from both the entrance and lobby were openly gawking at him.

Ulric flashed a lazy grin at the woman attending the reception area. She shrank back at the sheer intensity of his gaze.

“Morning Lei, I’m back,” one female voice piped in behind him. “Can you check if he’s in yet?”

Ulric turned to see a woman in red-rimmed glasses holding a cup of roast coffee. His brows twitched. The scent made his mouth dry. He hoped that she bought it nearby. He definitely needed one today.

The receptionist named Lei gave him one weirded out look before smiling at the newcomer. She checked something on the computer. “I’m sorry. Looks like your boss is not coming after all.”

“Irresponsible toff,” the woman muttered, and then she bit her lower lip in obvious frustration. Probably feeling his gaze trained on her, she looked up at him. Her smooth expression lacked a smile. “Can I help you?”

Lei answered for him. “He’s looking for Mr. Perez, but he has no appointment.”

Ulric shoved both hands into his pockets, studying both of them curiously. Who was this woman and why was the receptionist polite to her? She did give off an aura of authority, but she looked way too young to be holding a high position.

“I did not say I have no appointment. I remember saying I don’t know,” he quipped.

The woman with red-framed glasses frowned. Dark, intelligent eyes met his and did not look away. Strange woman. “He’s in a meeting right now.”

It started without him. Not really surprising.

“I should be in that meeting too.”

She raised one perfect brow, trying to call his bluff. There was something fascinating with the way she stared. As if she was calculating every word he said, every breath he took, committing them to her memory.

“I presume you are Mr. Sebastian?”

“I am.”

Her eyes narrowed for a split second before she coolly instructed the receptionist. “Lei, call Mr. Perez. Inform him that the new director is here.”

“I-I will!”

Ulric almost smiled, amused by how the receptionist was acting like a blabbering mess, but he kept his emotions in check. He was in enemy territory. Having a CEO for a father, he had learned at a young age that there is no market for your emotions. He should never advertise his feelings.  It was all about attitude. Everything was about impressions.

And he planned to get the worst of them – only now, he’s just starting. He needed to observe first, and then respond accordingly.

The woman with red-rimmed glasses gestured him to follow her. She led him to the elevators, not even once easing up her stiff, defensive stance.

Interesting.

She was wearing an all black business suit, and his eyes were trained on her tight pencil skirt. She had her back on him, so he figured he would ogle at her very nice backside for as long as he was able.

“By the way, I’m Maude Zamora.” He felt fingers tipping his head up, forcing his gaze to meet hers. Others would have felt embarrassed to be caught in the act, but he was not like others. He wanted to be caught.

“And?” He smirked, leaning closer to her and purposely invading her space. “Are you giving me your number?”

He pegged her as the serious strict worker type, and what does a woman like her hate the most? Rude, obnoxious guys.

Ulric actually braced himself for a slap. He knew his actions deserved it, but it never came. Instead, he received her calling card.

His smirk fell away from his lips as he stared at her serious expression.

“Call me when you need me. I’m your secretary.”