Chapter 11 -Who is Alondra anyway?
1523 Words
“Don’t tell me you brought a woman even to my parents’ house?” Micah asked, his tone low and sharp, eyes narrowing like storm clouds gathering.
Cougar only grinned, unbothered by Micah’s darkening glare. “We left her in the car,” he said with a teasing lift of his brows. Then he reached out and gave Micah’s tense shoulder a solid pat. “Lighten up. We won’t force you if you don’t want any woman. We just brought you breakfast because we figured you’d be crawling from a hangover.”
Micah’s jaw ticked as he let out a slow, controlled breath. His gaze darted past Cougar and locked on the dining table, as if focusing on something neutral could keep his irritation at bay. “How did you even know I was here?” he asked, his voice clipped, following them into the dining area with slow, deliberate steps.
“Tracy told us,” Cougar replied easily, dropping a paper bag onto the table with a thud. “She said she knew we were worried about you. Your parents are preparing some food too. They said they’ll bring it over later because they want to celebrate your birthday.”
Micah sighed and ran a hand down his face. The word birthday made his chest tighten. Not from joy but from the weight of memories he’d rather forget.
“What’s this?” Arice’s voice cut through the room, his hand already reaching for a folded piece of paper resting near the teacup.
Micah’s eyes snapped to the note like a predator sighting prey. “That’s nothing!” he barked, lunging forward to snatch it away. But Cougar, ever the mischievous one, was quicker.
Cougar’s grin widened as he plucked the note from Arice’s hands, holding it just out of Micah’s reach like a kid with stolen candy. “Aha!” he declared dramatically, eyes scanning the handwriting. “You had a woman with you last night named Alondra. She even prepared breakfast for you. Who’s this Alondra?”
Micah’s brows knitted in annoyance as he closed the distance in two long strides. With a swift motion, he grabbed the note from Cougar’s grasp and shoved it deep into his pocket like it was a loaded weapon. “It’s none of your damn business.”
“It is our business, buddy,” Steele chimed in with a mischievous smirk, punching Micah lightly on the arm. “There’s definitely something between you and this girl. You were practically glowing when you opened the door earlier. I swear you looked like you wanted to hug me because you thought I was Alondra. Then bam! Your face dropped like a kid who found coal in his Christmas stocking.”
“Who is Alondra anyway?” Arice jumped in, his curiosity clearly piqued. “Did you meet her after you left the bar? Outside your condo? Is she your neighbor? Did you spend the night together?” His words came rapid-fire, like bullets from a machine g*n.
Micah pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly at the end of his patience. “Don’t get any ideas,” he growled, shooting them all a withering look. “Alondra is my employee. She’s temporarily staying here because her boarding house burned down. She took care of me because I had a headache. She cooked breakfast to show her gratitude for letting her stay here. And she’s old enough to be my mother. I’m not into older women, okay?”
“Okay,” they chorused in unison, grinning like schoolboys caught eavesdropping.
“What’s for breakfast? Maybe we can share it,” Steele asked, his eyes darting to the kitchen counter with a hopeful gleam.
Micah folded his arms and scowled. “There’s a McDonald’s downstairs. Go there.” His voice dripped with annoyance. “I don’t keep supplies here.”
"Alright," Steele said, then left after taking the others’ orders.
"Are you leaving the Philippines again?" Cougar asked when Steele returned with their food.
"No. I’ve decided to stay for good. And as early as tomorrow, I’ll be back at work," Micah declared.
His friends cheered together like a miracle they’d been waiting for had finally come true. "So this means you’re also ready to date?" Arice teased.
"Forget it." He growled and continued eating. But he couldn’t stop thinking of Alondra. What could she be doing now?
When his friends finally left, he called Tracy. It was already past nine in the morning. "Is Alondra there? Did she arrive safely?"
"Yes. Do you want to talk to her?"
He hesitated. What would he even say? Should he ask why she suddenly left? If she had eaten? What time she’d be back at his condo later? He shook his head. No. He’d sound like her boyfriend or husband.
"No. Never mind. Just tell her not to be late tomorrow."
**
Alondra wanted to cry. It was already past 9 AM, and the bus she was on was still stuck in traffic. They had been sitting on EDSA for over thirty minutes, yet the bus hadn’t even turned onto Ayala Avenue.
She had gotten up late because she was tired from moving and fixing her things in the new apartment she’d transferred to. It was a good thing that when she packed up her things from the condo two days ago, a tenant from her coworker’s friend’s apartment also moved out. So she was able to move in and wasn’t required to pay a down payment after they heard she was a fire victim.
Why did she have to be late now, of all days, when today was Micah’s first day back at work in Zest Ads?
She was still anxious even though Tracy had already promised to help her with Micah so that her job wouldn’t be in jeopardy after the mess she caused at the condo. But no one could defend her if she walked into work late.
Her phone rang. It was Tracy. She felt her stomach sink as she answered the call. “Hello, Ma’am.”
“Where are you? It’s already past nine. Micah will be here any minute,” Tracy’s voice was tight with worry.
“I’m already at the corner of EDSA and Ayala Avenue. The traffic is horrible,” Alondra said, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Micah is on his way here. He’ll surely look for you. I hope you arrive before he does. He said he’s nearby.”
Alondra felt her chest tighten. How could she possibly get to the office before Micah? She counted to ten and decided to get off the bus. But when she looked down, her heart sank. She was still wearing her flip-flops. She had been in such a rush that she forgot to put on her flat sandals.
She always wore flats to the office instead of heels, knowing she might need to sprint on days like this.
By the time she arrived at the Locsin building, she was panting hard. Her makeup had worn off, and she was drenched in sweat. She prayed she’d have time to retouch her face or at least change her shoes while inside the elevator.
Her phone rang again. It was Tracy. “Ma’am, I’m on my way up,” Alondra said breathlessly.
“Micah’s on his way up too. Hurry!” Tracy warned.
Panic shot through her. She saw the elevator doors starting to close and practically flew towards them. “Wait!” she shouted, squeezing through just in time. She bumped into someone inside, and they caught her by the shoulders to steady her.
“Thank you. P-please pardon me,” she stammered, keeping her head down.
The scent of a man’s cologne hit her nose, calming her frazzled nerves for a moment. But then a deep, amused voice said—
“It seems like you’re in a hurry, Miss Enriquez.”
Her eyes flew open, and she looked up. Micah’s sharp, teasing gaze met hers. “S-sir… you’re here…” she whispered.
He looked devastatingly handsome in a black business suit and slacks, his python loafers gleaming. Clean-shaven, with his slightly long hair brushed neatly back, he radiated authority.
Then his cologne enveloped her senses. Of course—it was Micah. Rawr. Too bad they’d run into each other like this.
She wanted to run, to escape, but the elevator had already started its ascent.
Alondra dropped her head again, closing her eyes. This was her nightmare. She wasn’t just late. She was trapped in an elevator with him. “I-I just wanted to welcome you, Sir.” Great.
He arched a brow, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe. “Nice welcome, though. Is that the new office attire? Flip-flops? Very grand, Miss Enriquez.”
Alondra looked down and nearly melted in embarrassment. She was still wearing her flip-flops. She hadn’t had the chance to change into her sandals because she was too flustered sharing an elevator with him.
“S-sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to be late. It’s just… EDSA traffic is terrible. I really didn’t want this to happen.”
- Writer
