Chapter 11

“Sigh – I think I’m in love.”

I look over at Kaelyn, who is lying on my bed, a very dreamy look on her face as she rests her head on one hand and nibbles the nail of a finger, a super typical “I-think-I-am-in-love” symptom – for Kaelyn, anyway.

“He says he likes how I sound on the phone. He’s been calling more often, even if just for a few minutes. He says hearing my voice really makes his day. Isn’t that sweet of him?”

Sweet? Lame is more like it. But I keep my mouth shut. This is not the time to wake Lyn up from her dream (or nightmare, depending on how you want to look at it).

She continues talking, not needing a reply from me, another typical “in-love” symptom. “Did I tell you he bought out all the flowers from the hotel gift shop that first day we met, at Redang Island?”

How could I forget? I was there! And I also recall that the hotel gift shop only had one small bucket of sorry looking pink roses, left over from who knows when.

Of course, again, no reply needed. The In-Love girl carries on. “He’s been so busy with work lately – he works so hard! Yet he tries to make time to see me, take me to dinner, and listens as I tell him about my day – he really listens to me! Oh, he’s just so – sigh – what’s that word? I dunno, I don’t want to think that he’s too good to be true, because he isn’t! He’s real, and sincere, but it’s just so, overwhelming, for now. Amazingly beautiful, yet overwhelming at the same time – sigh…”

Sigh, indeed. I wonder how long I have to put up with this. Ok, before you start calling me the heartless friend, or worse still, the jealous b*tch, let me explain the story to you. This “He” that Lyn is talking about, is none other than the world class playboy, Marcus Wang, Assistant Manager of the Finance Department at SD & Co. Why world class, you might ask. Easy. His ex-girlfriends ranged from Japanese to French to Arabian to Thai to English to Dutch to Australian to Indian… and the list goes on, not too different from the one they have at the Miss Universe Pageant, really. And Lyn, she’s just another contestant, another name on the list. So now you can understand why I am not quite enthusiastic about my best friend’s joy. In fact, if I am not in such a rush to complete my presentation for Monday’s meeting, I’ll throw myself at Lyn’s feet, explain to her for the ten thousandth’s time why she shouldn’t get involve with Marcus. But for now, I can only hope that one percent of the last nine thousand nine hundred and ninety nine times of pleading went through to her love-lust clouded mind, somehow.

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Meanwhile, I have been working like a mad woman on this project – yes! The solo project, as Ean likes to put it – and frankly, I am happy to say that it’s been breezing smoothly so far, which really boosts my confidence. The only worrying part, if you consider it a worry, is that I’ve not met with the client, ever before, and we usually do, at least once, to go through the finer details of a proposal. But Senior Legal Assistant Julianne has assured me that it will not be problem at all.

“Furthermore,” she added, “despite Mr. Benedict being one of our company’s biggest client, It’s a very simple and straightforward proposal, Tutu, nothing that you’ve not handled before. I’m quite sure you’ll do fine with the information provided, and I’m really looking forward to your presentation on Monday. All of us are.”

Such high faith in me, especially coming from Julianne, is really quite a surprise. Does it mean I am finally getting somewhere?

Later on the same day, Ean also dropped by my desk and did a quick scan through the report I was still in progress of putting together. “Gosh Tu, you’re going to make the rest of us look bad! Do you have to do so much work?”

And before he left, he gave my shoulder a warm squeeze. “By the way, Lyn and Marcus seem to be going strong. Maybe we can double date some time?”

I gave him a shrug, not taking my eyes off the papers I was busy reading, and said, “Maybe.” Yup! I played it cool this time. Not bad huh? But we’ve yet to set a date, not that I’m encouraging Lyn and Marcus, of course.

And so, it’s early Saturday evening, and I am making final changes to the presentation, checking and cross checking to make sure I’ve got everything right. I am determine to complete everything by tonight, and spend tomorrow relaxing and preparing myself emotionally, spiritually, mentally and physically for the big day.

And Lyn is supposed to lend me moral support and assist me in achieving my objective, but the woman is still lying on my bed, day dreaming, no doubt.

“Hey,” I say to her, “aren’t you suppose to be making me dinner? I seem to recall the mention of some pasta and fresh salad on the menu. Are you expecting my microwave and the fridge to accomplish that all by themselves?”

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I am in deep shit.

I totally and absolutely screwed up.

The presentation was a mess; I don’t even know where to start explaining the problem. In fact, I don’t even understand how there could ever have been a problem to begin with. I checked and double checked everything! I even run through the presentation three times, on three different laptops, and backed it up twice on CD and on my pen drive, just to make sure there will be no blunder during the presentation. Yet –

Oh-my-god, what’s going to happen? How will I face Julianne and Jason and Ean and the rest of the office? Everyone must already know of the disaster. They are probably talking about me right now, laughing at me for being cocky and over confident when I left the office for the presentation this afternoon. I was looking so smart too, in a grey shirtdress with matching belt cinched across the waist, my favorite black leather tote and a pair of spiky black heels.

Now the dress is a crumpled heap, the heels long discarded, and the bag flung under the table, away from sight, because the mere glimpse of my files and folders reminds me of my failure and throws me into break-down mode.

I can’t think – all I do is sit on the floor against my bed and stare at the wall. I can’t breath – my lungs are pumping out air even as I try to draw more in, and I end up panting, like I’ve ran up four flights of stairs. I can’t feel myself – there is a numb sensation going through my body; I know my arm is resting right beside my body, yet I can’t really feel it anymore. In the silence of the room, my heart seems to be beating extremely loud, all I hear is “thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud…” amplified through the space, or maybe it’s all just in my head?

A banging sound brings me out of the reverie long enough to realize that I’ve been sitting in total darkness, for how long I don’t know, and there’s someone outside calling my name. I am in no mood to see anyone; I’m just going to stay still and quiet in here, and whoever that is will go away.

“Tutu Tan! I know you are in there! Just stop swimming in your self pity for two seconds and let me in!”

It’s Kaelyn. How did she know about -? Marcus, of course. Oh gawd! That means even the other departments have heard about my fiasco! Shit! I might as well just kill my self now.

Knock-knock-knock.

She’s at my bedroom window now. It’s a good thing the curtains are drawn.

“Tutu! We both know you’ll never commit suicide because you want to die beautifully, and you probably look like shit at the moment, so just open the door and let me in!”

Ha! That’s my best friend for you; she knows me too well.

“Tutu! Do you want me to call the boys and break down the door? ‘Cos they’re just outside, waiting in the car.”

That does it. There’s no way I can afford to buy Mr. Sachiiya a new door; after today, I’m not even sure if I still have a job. And I gather by “the boys” she meant Marcus and Ean, and they definitely, absolutely, seriously, totally can-NOT see me in the state that I am at the moment.

I push myself off the floor and walk slowly to the door. Kaelyn stands patiently on the other side, wearing a very pretty flowy top over a pair of funky shorts. She holds out a box of Tarot cards.

“Wanna play Tarots? Or would you rather find out what the stars have in store for you?”

She’s teasing me, trying to make me laugh, and it almost work. But at the familiar sight of my best friend, something inside snaps, and it really really hurts.

I try to give her a smile for her effort, but the tears turn out to be quicker.

Chapter 10

Kaelyn and I are sunbathing. Or I should say I am sunbathing; Kaelyn is talking – nonstop, for the past half an hour. Here’s a short summary of what she’s been talking about.

10:05am
Kaelyn: Tu, can you please help me apply a bit more sun block on my back? I don’t want to get burnt. You know how ugly I look when I get burnt. Remember the last time… … … (blah blah blah, you don’t need to know about the last time, trust me!)
Me: Hm…

10:10am
Kaelyn: Mmmm, this is absolute bliss, don’t you agree, Tu? Blue blue skies, powder-fine sand, water so clear you can see straight through to the bottom, and phew, did you notice all the gorgeous gorgeous bodies on display? Yumm!
Me: Hm… yeah, I know.

10:18am
Kaelyn: Hey Tu, check this out! My star sign says that romance is definitely heading my way this week! I’ve always wondered what a holiday fling would be like!
Me: Hm… that’s great, Lyn.
Kaelyn: Yeah, isn’t it? Did you notice that really cute guy at breakfast this morning? I ran into him twice at the pancakes table, and he didn’t look Asian. Did you see him?
Me: Hm… no.

10:25am
Kaelyn: I think I’m getting burnt. Maybe we should get into the shade now?
Me: (sighs and rolls my eyes) Girl, you have half a tube of sun block on your back, I’m not surprise if you actually gets fairer after this trip. Now, would you just shut up so I can do some serious tanning?
Kaelyn: (opens mouth but no sound comes out)

Yup, I am finally on a holiday, never mind that it is in fact a company-departmental trip (which, may I add, has been postponed due to reasons labeled P&C), and the organizers had enthusiastically arranged activities and games for every other hour and we are all expected to participate. The key point here is that I AM ON HOLIDAY!! So, why then, you may ask, is Kaelyn with me, since she and I don’t work at the same company at all!?

Well, you see, my good friend can be quite sentimental, which under most circumstances, can actually a good thing. When she heard that our department and Finance’s will be going for a 3 days 2 nights trip to Redang Island, and that our team and two others have taken a couple of days off to stay on till end of the week, Kaelyn grabbed my hand and started jumping up and down like a five year old.

“Tu! Do you realize that it’s been ages since we last went on a holiday together? When was the last time? Can you remember? You can’t right? What I have in my memory is you and me on our school trip to Cameron Highlands – it’s been that long! I think we should do this together, since I’ve not been to Redang anyway… Can we? Can we?”

And that was how Lyn ended up with me on my company holiday. I’m sort of regretting my decision now, though.

“Good morning, girls! Up early to start on the tan? Quite a bit to cover, isn’t there?”

I should have expected; interruptions are inevitable, at work or at play. But this particular intrusion also happen to come with long silky hair, perfect make up (water proof, of course) already golden-tanned skin thanks to weekly solarium visits, killer-curves not covered by the white bikini which is a size too small, and an accent from god-knows-where.

The unbearable screechy drawl continues, its volume increasing with each word. “Well I would have been up earlier, if it hasn’t been for Jason, who refuses to let me jump out of bed early. That silly fellow; he said we don’t cuddle enough, and so we ended up being late for breakfast, as you can imagine.” The narration stops, probably expecting a response of sort, but Lyn and I just toss a tight smile in her general direction before turning away towards the sea. It’s a good thing we both have our sunglasses on; she wouldn’t have been able to withstand the eye-rolling dagger-shooting gaze we are actually giving her. Sensing a lack of interest, but still needing to put in a last word, she sighs dramatically before saying, “So, I guess I should find myself a spot, if there’s any left at all, and catch up on the tanning, eh? Well then, later girls!”

As we wave off the retreating form with great relief, Lyn points out that not one part of the body jiggles, even as the hips are forcefully swayed from side to side across the sand. I shush her, and try really hard to relax and think of nothing, which is the major objective of this holiday. But my boss’s 25 year old wife has totally spoilt it for me now. The image of stern, solemn, no-nonsense Jason who’s already in his mid fifties, with a receding hairline, growing paunch and hairy chest, asking his Supermodel-wannabe wife half his age for morning cuddles – yikes! I really need to get that out of my head!

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I must have fallen asleep. When I open my eyes again, the sun is high and bright, the skin on my tummy is beginning to burn, and Kaelyn is no where to be seen. I grab the tube of After Sun and smear a big dollop on my hot skin. Then I reach for my Coppertone SPF 35 and search around for Lyn again. I need her help to cover my back with sun block; I don’t want to look like an octopus with too-short tentacles while trying to reach behind me.

I finally spot her at the beachside bar, in her green bikini top and a sarong wrap, deep in conversation with a dark hair man wearing beach shorts and sunglasses. She leans closer to say something, and the man throws his head back laughing. He looks some what familiar, but it’s hard to tell from this distant. Well, I don’t think Lyn will be available anytime soon to help me with my sun block.

“Hey gorgeous, you look troubled. Come, tell uncle Ean what’s bothering your pretty head.”

I turn back around to find “uncle” Ean plopping himself down onto the bottom half of my beach mat. Like most guys on the beach, he wears a t-shirt, broad shorts, thong slippers and a pair of sunglasses. He also spots an Addidas cap for extra shading from the sun.

“Hi uncle, you don’t look ready to hit the surf. Taking it slow today?”

“Yeah,” Ean leans back on his elbows, “stayed up late last night drinking with a few of the Finance boys, and had a hard time waking up this morning. Maybe I’m really getting old?” He grins and I reply with a small laugh.

“Hm, maybe.”

Ean tilts his head back to get a better look of me, his eyebrow arching over the frame of his sunglasses. “Really?”

He sounds worried, and I had to laugh again. “No! Of course not!” I shove him playfully on the shoulder and then nod at the group of girls sitting nearby. “They’ve been ogling you ever since you sat your butt down.”

Ean makes a face. “Ogle. You make me sound like some hot shot on display.”

“Well, you are! To some, anyway,” I add, “don’t you know what most of the girls at the office who are under 30, and some over 35, thinks of you?”

“I can’t be bothered with what they think, really. However,” he tilts his head back again, and I can’t stop my heart from doing a tiny flip when a boyish grin spreads across his handsome face. “I do care about what you think.”

My throat has turned dry suddenly. “Uh, about what?” About you? Well, I think a lot about you, but if it’s possible, I hope you’ll never find out!

“Oh, about anything and everything. But let’s start with what caused you to frown and look so thoughtful just now. You’re not thinking about the project are you? Because I forbid you to think about work this week, even if it’s your first solo project and there’s a promotion promise hanging at the end of it.”

Less than a week ago, Julianne handed me a folder containing a new investment planning project and told me that Jason and herself had had a discussion, and thinks that I’m ready to take on more responsibilities. At the end of the project, they want to sit down with me and talk about my “development plans”, was how she put it. Ean translates that as getting a promotion, a pay rise, and maybe even an assistant. Of course that got me into a hype, which resulted in working till midnight 3 consecutive days prior to leaving for Redang, and Ean and Lyn had to physically remove me from the office and strap me into my seat, or we might have miss the flight and the beautiful beach and surf altogether.

“I wasn’t thinking about work, but thanks for reminding me just when I’ve finally managed not to think about it at all since waking up this morning.” I give him a mock annoyed look before going on as-a-matter-of-factly. “I was just worried about getting an uneven tan, and was looking around for Lyn to help apply more sun block on my back.”

The boyish grin is back. “Hey, now that I can help.” Before I can say anything, he took the bottle of Coppertone from me and sits up. I must have a horrified look on my face, for he adds, “I did spend four years in Queensland surrounded by beach babes who constantly needs help applying sun blocks – in fact, my friends and I even considered setting up a sun block-applying service during the summer season and earn some extra cash; it sounded quite promising then.”

“Yeah? I can imagine.”

Ean waves away my condescending reply and guides me onto the mat so that I’m lying on my stomach, with my back to him. I sense rather than see him squeeze the lotion onto his palm, place the bottle down near my arms, and then kneels down beside me. I didn’t realize that I have tensed up with anticipation of the contact until I feel him ruffling my hair playfully.

“Relax, Princess! I promise to be gentle.”

I bunch my hair up in one hand to get it out of his way and at the same time give him what I hope is a relaxed, carefree smile. He winks back. But my smile slips immediately when I feel him untying the strings of my bikini top.

“Ean, I think –"

“No, don’t think. Just lie back and enjoy the ride.”

It is at the tip of my tongue to shoot back a sassy reply, but somewhere at the back of my mind a rein appears and pulls me up short. There is a pause, and then something inside me clicks. I can’t really explain what, how or why, but it feels like an unspoken assurance passes between us. It is hot and cold, light and heavy, calm and exciting all at the same time. And as if someone is guiding me, I lie back, and relinquish myself – to the moment, or to Ean? – I don’t really care. For now, anyway.