Chapter 3

POV: Ericka

"Sir, I think Sir Monte is upset," she paused in devouring shrimp.

"Just let my grandson be, he's already thirty-two, might be going through menopause," the old man chuckled.

"You really are quite the joker," she laughed. When it's just her and the old man, she can converse playfully. But in front of others, it's a whole different story. Dealing with an authoritative figure.

"Alright, go ahead, eat. My grandson might develop veins waiting for you," he chuckled at what he said.

After eating, she brushed her teeth and washed her hands before going out. She's annoyed with her braces. It's hard to clean.

Before she went out, she pushed the old man's wheelchair into the garden and instructed the gardener to call the nurse if the old man wants to go inside.

When she went out, she found Monte with a dark expression again. Like the weight of the world's problems is on his shoulders.

"Are we leaving, sir?" she called his attention.

"My car broke down, so we'll use the other one. Get my files inside my car and transfer them to that red van," he pointed to another vehicle.

She approached Mang Turing, busy cleaning the car.

"Mang Turing, I'll just get Sir's things."

"Sure, dear. I placed them on the back seat." the old man replied.

"Thank you." She opened the door.

"Sorry, I can't help you. My hands are dirty." Mang Turing apologized.

"It's okay; I can handle it." She took the attache case and closed the door. But her stiletto got stuck in a hole, causing her to lose balance and fall on the bricks that served as the garage floor. "Ouch!" she cried.

"What happened?" Monte approached her.

"It's nothing sir, i can manage.." she tried to stand up, but she was struggling.

"Can you stand and walk?" Monte checked.

"Ah..ye...yes sir.." but she fell again, hitting the bricks. Something hurts. She took off her shoes and saw that her left ankle was swollen.

"Are you that lame?" Monte frowned. "Let me help you." He lifted her as if she were made of paper and sat her on a bench by the pool. "You just arrived, and you're already in an accident? This is inconvenient."

She felt frustrated, as if she wanted this to happen. As if it were her fault. If he had just taken his things and transferred them to the car immediately, this wouldn't have happened. Her boss seemed lazy. She kept quiet while Monte massaged her foot. It hurt.

"Ah, sir, I'm okay now," she reassured him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, furrowing his brow and raising an eyebrow.

"Ye...yes sir..." she nodded slightly. She subtly pulled her foot, wearing the stiletto shoes.

"Why are those shoes that high? You are already tall. You don't need to wear something like that," he commented.

She chose not to respond. She stood up and adjusted her slightly wrinkled skirt. She walked towards the van, where Mang Turing was waiting for them.

"Are you okay now, Miss Ericka?" the old man asked.

"I'm okay now."

Shortly after, Monte got into the passenger seat on the other side.

"Let's go, Mang Turing," Monte said.

The old man started the car. She took out her tablet and opened it.

"Sir, you have a schedule today at 9 am with Mr. Amado from the trade groups of the company, 10:30 with Mr. Diaz from the glass factory, 12 noon lunch with your grandfather at Manila Hotel, 2:30 with Miss Almira Madrigal, and..."

"With what?" he interrupted with a furrowed brow.

"With Miss Almira, sir," she replied.

"And who the hell made that schedule?" he turned to her.

"Señor did, sir."

"Cancel that."

"But sir, you have reservations..."

"I don't care! Just cancel that stupid schedule!" he raised his voice.

"Aaaaah, o... okay," she set an alarm to remind her to cancel.

She picked up the company phone and called Almira.

"Yes? Who is this?"

"Ma'am, I'm from SM Corporation. Our CEO has rescheduled your meeting with him."

"What?!" she nearly went deaf from her loud voice.

"I'll just call you if there's an available slot."

F*ck!! tell him to....

She hung up. She didn't understand why Señor liked this woman, considering her squammy attitude. Monte's instruction was clear: don't entertain when someone speaks negatively, especially Almira.

"What did she say?" Monte asked.

"A lot," she replied. He understood what she meant.

"Mang Turing, let's drop by Monica's first," he commanded.

Monica was his friend who owned a boutique. She often designed their outfits for events.

"Do you have an appointment with Monica, sir?" she asked, knowing it wasn't on his schedule.

"I just need to pick something up," he answered.

The boutique was closed, but there were people inside. She saw a beautiful woman with her back turned. When the car stopped, Monte invited her.

"Mang Turing, wait here. Come, Ericka."

Though puzzled, she hurriedly got out of the car. She adjusted herself and walked with small steps. Monte opened the door and let her enter first.

"Monica," he called the woman.

"Oh, you're here," she approached and kissed him on the cheek. "Hi, Ericka."

"Hi, you seem to be getting more beautiful, especially after having children," Monica greeted her.

"Not too much, you know, marriage suits me well... Can you tell that I have three kids?" she chuckled.

"If I didn't know you, I would think you're a model," she replied with a smile.

"Stop that cheeky chitchat," Monte interrupted, "I might actually think you two had a relationship."

"Oh, and you're jealous already," Monica teased.

She noticed Monte giving her a stern look. The woman just shrugged and laughed, then turned to her.

"Why don't you get the message I sent you?" Monte said.

"Right away, sir," she saluted playfully.

Monica was one of Monte's close friends since she started working for him eight years ago. She was kind and good at giving fashion advice. She never made her feel like she was of lower status.

"Here it is," Monica handed her a shoebox.

Monte opened it—a pair of women's shoes. He handed it to her.

"Try it on," he ordered.

"Me, sir?" she pointed at herself.

"Yes, should I try it on? Of course, it's for you," he answered sarcastically.

She took the wedge-designed shoes with low heels. They fit. It felt like Cinderella trying on shoes.

"There, it suits you. I got the message that you need a pair of shoes.I knew our foot sizes match. I designed those," Monica happily explained.

"Is this for me?" she asked in amazement.

"Yes, pointed heels are hard to wear. There are many small holes outside the house," Monte explained.

"Let me pay for it, sir. "

"No, consider it as part of your bonus. Just keep it for events. But for the office, those are what you'll wear."

"Thank you, sir," she didn't refuse. She knew that if she argued, her boss get mad.

"How much is that?" Monte asked.

"Just 23,000 for you," the woman replied.

"Ha? Why is it so expensive?" Monte asked.

"Do you want it cheaper?" Monica replied.

"You're haggling with me again," Monte responded. "20,000 then?"

"You're really a businesdman! Fine, but in cash, okay?"

The man took out his wallet and counted the money—brand new bills.

"Oh," he handed the money to Monica.

"You seem unhappy about it," she snatched the money from Monte's hand. "Leave before you change your mind."

"Alright. Thanks," Monte left first.

"Thank you very much, Monica," she smiled.

"Thanks to you. I made a sale," Monica said with a grin and a wink.

Monte's car sped away, and he suddenly thought of checking the box. The packaging was beautiful, but his eyes widened at what he saw.

"That b*tch!!" he muttered, half-smiling.

"Why, sir?" she asked, puzzled.

"As usual, Monica fooled me again, look," there was a price tag on the side.

His eyes widened, and he burst into laughter. 15,500 pesos..