Chapter 3

Party \pär-tē\

Noun. A social gathering.

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CELINE WESTWOOD POV.

Althea “Al” Domingo, and I have been best friends since university. We met at Cucina Gustosa when I applied to work there part-time. She applied at the same time as me for a hostess position and after we started talking, we discovered that we went to the same university. We found out that we had a lot in common, such as being the same age, having the same hobbies; enjoying the same type of music, and were both the only child in our family.

When I purchased the mansion that I now live in, I kept insisting for her to move in with me since I had plenty of room for her; but she wanted to live on her own. She currently lives in her own condo in the city. She’s very independent, so I gave up after the third time of asking. She knows about my successful business of being a matchmaker. She was there the day I purposely messed up Danny Kirk and Jennifer Holmes reservation.

She’s independent, kind, caring, funny, smart, beautiful, and extremely mischievous.

Whoever she marries will be a lucky man. I can’t wait to play matchmaker for her if she ever asks. Now she’s living her dream as a pediatrician at a children’s hospital.

Even though she’s busy with her job, whenever she’s off, she’ll help me out whenever I need something and rarely asks for help back.

She’s that kind.

“Now come sit down. I come bearing…” Al looked up in thought, “something that could be good or bad big news.”  

“What do you mean by that Al?” I looked at her with suspicion.

I shut the door and walked to my chair, plopping down on it. “Please don’t tell me something that you know will make me more stressed than I already am. I’ve had a long day and I just want to fall into a deep sleep, so deep, it’s practically the definition of hibernation.”

She rolled her eyes, “I promise I’ll let you hibernate, after this conversation.”

Giving in, I reply, “Fine.”

I love my best friend and would love to spend time with her, but today I love sleep more. If I didn’t love making people fall in love so much, I would try to get a job where I can get paid for sleeping.

“Thank you.” Al sits up on her chair and interlaces her left and right hand. “There’s a party my parents are throwing, and I wanted to invite you.”

“Well of course I’ll come.” I look at her with confusion. “Was that the big news you had to tell me?”

“You promise you’ll come?” she asked, ignoring my question.

“Yes, Al,” I replied like it was obvious.

“Pinky promise?” asked Althea, standing up from her seat and sticking out her pinky to me.

I raised my eyebrow at her with amusement clear on my face. “Should I be afraid if the measures of seriousness are going as far as pinky promising you that I’m going to the party?”

Althea rolled her eyes and shook her pinky at me, “Come on. Just pinky promise me you’ll come.”

“Fine,” I replied, sticking out my hand and putting my pinky around hers. “I pinky promise I’ll come to your parents' party.”

She gave me a pleased look. “Good.” Sitting back in her chair, she looked down at her hands as if she was inspecting them. “My parents are throwing a birthday party at my house.”

“Okay,” I replied, not seeing how that’s a big thing. “Whose birthday, is it?”

“My cousin,” Althea answered in a casual tone.

“I don’t mean to sound rude but why are they throwing it at your parents’ house, and not at your cousin’s house. Also, which cousin? You have a lot of them.” I asked.

Althea came from a big family. Her mother was born in America and was the only child in her family like us, but her father is Filipino and was born in the Philippines. He had seven brothers and three sisters.

That’s ten kids!

I don’t know how her grandmother was able to handle raising all those kids. She has thirty cousins in total on her father’s side of the family.

According to Althea, her father said that back when he was a child living in the Philippines, his house had more than fifteen people living in it. According to him, that was a normal thing. I’ve met her whole family when they come down to visit, and they’re a blast to be around.

“My parents’ house is big enough to host it,” she replied as if it was obvious.

I should have guessed that being the reason, considering the fact that Al’s parents were loaded. Her parents are doctors too and are able to afford a luxurious lifestyle.

She leaned back in her seat, “It’s Armando’s birthday party. So, all of my family are flying in from the Philippines to come.”

I smile widely, hearing that it’s going to be Armando's birthday party.

Armando is the same age as Althea and me. He’s lives in a condo in the city and makes a living selling high-quality customized exclusive cars for high-paying customers. He’s had clients like Jay Z, David Beckham, Simon Cowell, Lady Gaga, and Janet Jackson. When rich people want a car that will make their peers be filled with jealousy, they go to Armando.

He can afford a mansion like me but chooses not to since it would be just him living in it.

“That’s great news! This party is going to be fun for sure,” I replied with a happy tone.

“Yes…” Althea replied with something that sounded like uncertainty in her tone.

“I don’t know why you would ever think I would think of that as bad news,” I said with a chuckle.

“Well, I have yet to mention something that would be bad news,” she said sheepishly.

I tilt my head, “What is it, Al?”

“He’s bringing a friend,” she answered with a hesitant tone.

“Okay. How would that be bad news?” I ask, still not understanding why she’s acting so uneasy.

She looked down and mumbled something.

“What?” I asked.

She looked to her left and mumbled something again. For some reason, purposely avoiding my eyes.  

I gave her an amused look, “Al I don’t have supersonic hearing. You’re going to have to speak up.”

She took a deep breath. She answered my question, watching my reaction, “Lucian.”

The amused look I had on my face, dropped almost quicker than the speed of a bullet.

“Please tell me this isn’t the Lucian that has annoyed me to no end, for years,” I practically ask in a pleading tone. Dread clear as day, on my face.

She looked at me sheepishly, “I can’t.”

Damn it, Lucian.