2: Elise

“YOU look great, Elise. New dress?”

I sighed. He had to go there.

Really.

“Your mother sent this to my house to wear for the party tonight, so I’m wearing it,” I said, cinching his mother to him. It was Madam Soniah who chose this dress for me and I was so grateful when I saw it. I couldn’t choose something this sexy, elegant, and classy. I grew up in the province and was raised by provincial parents. I still have yet to learn about sophistication.

When I opened the big pink box that arrived last night and saw the beautiful dress for the first time, I knew I was wearing it no matter what. 

It was a knee-length cocktail dress, with slits on both sides up to the middle of my thighs. The neckline on the front was conservative so there was no cleavage to expose, but it was backless without being too obvious when you were looking at the front or the side. It was cleverly designed to make it this way, and I wasn’t going to turn my back on him to help him see it. 

Not if I could help it, especially as he was already scowling like I was going to that party naked.

My long hair was in an elegant twist. I was driven earlier to the salon to have my make-up and hair done by an attendant with specific instructions from the madam. 

I changed into this gown and everything else, too, before I was driven back here. I just had a shawl cover it when I got back up here. 

It was already past 5 pm then, anyway, so there weren’t many people in the hallways.

I wore three-inched stilettos for this gown. The pair arrived with the gown. It took me a while to get used to high heels because of the parties that I needed to attend with Gian or Madam Soniah. Mother and son were both tall and if I didn’t augment my height, I’d look like a dwarf while they towered over me. It didn’t do well for my self-confidence, believe me.

But this gown, I felt great wearing it. 

The transformation from the young adult me to a womanly me was so awesome that I almost couldn’t believe it the first look I took in the full-length mirror in the salon.

 This time, when they oohed and aahed, I oohed and aahed with them. 

It felt liberating to look grown-up for a change.

I knew Gian wouldn’t see it the same way. 

Unfortunately for him, I only fought for a few things in my life - A) my favorite books, B) wearing canvas shoes with my school uniforms, and C) anything not included in A and B but should absolutely make sense to me. Like an open season for anything.

This dress went to the C category. 

It was open season tonight. 

If he doesn’t want me to wear this to the party, he had better be ready to take it off my body with his own hands. 

But how could a man famous for being liberated be this old-school with me?

“Elise..?” Gian's voice trailed off. There was a mix of guilt there. He knew I loved the dress and he really was being an unreasonable jerk.

“You want me to change? What would you say to your mom?” I hated using his mother like this, but Madam Soniah was the truly powerful person in the Verrazzano family. Her eyes would turn a little red and the men in the family would grab the stars in the sky just so she would smile again.

“May I know why she wanted you to wear that?” He said, as if my pretty dress was a wicked thing.

“The party’s theme is romantic and sexy, like a date night,” I replied, poker-faced, knowing he knew this already. “She knew I wouldn't know to choose on my own so she chose for me.” I looked down at the dress indulgently, “And I’m happy she helped. I really like it!”

His scowl deepened. “That theme is for guests looking to hook up.”

I couldn’t believe what I heard. I gave him the look. “It’s a Valentine’s Day party. What did you expect?”

“If your pictures are posted on F*, your parents may want to have you sent back home. Do you remember when you just left to visit your friend without telling anybody? Jason was scolded for—”

“I craved for Lomi noodles at my friend's resto. It was my friend’s place!”

“You left without a word!”

“Oh my god, we’re not done with that yet? I had meant to call but when I got there, my cell was drained. Gwen is a childhood friend and I hadn’t seen him for months, so we couldn’t stop talking as soon as he’d picked me up. What was I supposed to do?!” 

We’d gone over this over and over. He still would not let it be. 

Gwen and I had become so busy in recent months because of my apprenticeship and his new business, so when he told me he had just opened a new branch of his successful noodle restaurant nearby, I had to go. 

That first hour passed by like nothing. I turned my phone on when I saw the battery had fully charged, and messages came in one after another, including about almost 50 missed calls between Gian and Jason, a cousin who kind of bodyguards me since I started living here in Manila. 

Gwen preened when my cousin Jason entered the noodle house. He had a crush on him forever. 

But his jaw dropped when Giancarlo himself followed in. 

Gwen cross-dressed only on occasions. That night, he looked more like a man than the adorable, sweet gay that he was. 

When he realized the powerhouses that came in thought he’d kidnapped me, with the hunks looking like they were going to beat him up, he almost fainted.

“It was so embarrassing,” I said now. “Gwen wouldn’t talk to me for days. Until now, I could only order Lomi take-out,” I grumbled. “You’ve really scared my friend.”

“Don’t be silly. We didn’t do anything to him.”

“Really? You and Jason alarmed even the customers with the way you both entered the restaurant!” I said between gritted teeth. I couldn’t believe we were arguing instead of leaving for the party already!

“You know something bad's going on in Metro Manila,” he reminded me.

“I know! I wasn’t that stupid. He had to get me himself so I wouldn’t have to take an Uber. I have pepper spray. I memorized all the important contact numbers, dammit!”

“You think those women haven’t done the same things?” Young women started missing in Manila about four months ago and there was a rumor we’d finally spawned a serial killer in our country. It’s been an inside joke among Filipinos how hard it was for any serial killer to develop here, because everyone minded everybody else’s business.

“Ugh!” “Don’t say that! They might still be alive!” I protested, stricken to my bones. No one had been found in any of the missing, alive or dead bodies.

His mouth thinned. If he wasn’t so gorgeous, he’d look like an old maid. “About this dress—”

“Mom loved it. I showed them last night on our video call. She said I looked so elegant and sexy and that I should enjoy myself at the party.”

He stared without blinking. 

I stared back, raising an eyebrow at him. 

If Madam Soniah was the queen in the house of the Verrazzanos, it was my mother in the house of the Solers. When Rosamia said her daughter looked okay in a certain dress that happened to be a little too short or fitted too well for my stepdad’s taste, he wouldn’t oppose her, even if it pained him to do so, or that my mother was a tiny thing beside him. 

Gian suddenly had his own brand of poker face. 

I got a bit nervous. I learned the poker-face game from him!

“Will Brandon be there?” he asked.

I knew it. “You know he wouldn't be there,” I replied.

“No. I didn’t know.” And he did look surprised.

“You always know everything,” I accused.

“I really didn’t.” And now he got a new thing to scowl about. “Where is your boyfriend on a Valentine’s Day evening?” Poker face.

At that look, I deflated. “His father took him on a business trip,” I replied carefully.

“I thought they were back.”

“It’s been extended.”

He didn’t speak and just stared at me, but his eyebrows were louder than his quiet mouth. 

The invitations had been distributed for several weeks and Brandon should have had ample time to adjust his schedule. 

No excuse could fly in the face of Gian’s calculated reasoning now. 

I was even starting to run out of patience with my boyfriend.

I averted my eyes.

“No wonder Mom made you wear that. There’s going to be a lot of eligible young men at the party,” he finally grumbled.

I took a peek at him, checking to see if he was still incensed. He moved as if he was going to un-button his sleeve to roll them up, but stopped. 

It was impulsive. He was still pissed off. His family disliked Brandon’s family because they used underhanded tactics to win biddings. 

I wasn’t crazy about the Schultzes, either. Since I was introduced as Gian’s apprentice (that’s what Brandon knew), they had treated me like crap. 

But, at least, he was polite in his treatment of Brandon. 

My boyfriend was tolerated.

 But if he knew how I was treated by his family when I was over there, I didn’t think he would continue to favor my relationship with Brandon.

If his family were the basis of whether I would stay in the relationship or not, I’d have broken up with Brandon a long time ago. 

And yes, I knew this a little while ago, already. 

I was, honestly, just waiting for him to get back, talk to him about it, and let this go, because I didn’t think I went into this relationship so his family could treat me the way they did, or he’d leave me for weeks without making it up when he came back. 

They make him as busy as hell when he’s home, too.

Brandon’s father was a half-German businessman who seemed to have forgotten to smile. His mother was a Chinese tycoon’s only daughter with a real bitchy character. The other relatives weren’t rays of sunshine either. Those close to my age only talked about nose jobs and the current boyfriend and from which family he came from. 

They were the kind of people I used to avoid in college when I was studying at one of the most expensive universities in Manila.

But Brandon was different. 

He still was, truthfully. 

The first few times he showed attention to me, I doubted him. I thought he was like the others, just hiding it in the beginning. 

But he was consistently nice. People who knew him for a long time genuinely liked him. 

I felt later on it was silly to doubt him.

Why did I even become Brandon's girlfriend, anyway?