"How was your date with Harry last night?" Claire asked Gena when they decided to go shopping on Sunday afternoon.

With rolled eyes, the sassy Asian replied, "Don't even remind me. It was bizarre!"

Claire scowled, looking over her shoulder to where Gena was sitting on the lounge sofa with a champagne glass provided by the bouquet. "Not what I expected, such a killjoy. Bizarre, how?" She eyed back the set of designer handbags lined up extravagantly on the white wooden display.

"He took me to his parent's house, can you imagine? Not his place! His parents! Without any heads-up, Claire—who does that?" Gena lamented.

Baffled, Claire paused everything and faced her. "What do you mean?" she asked, laughter lingering in her voice.

"Ugh, I don't even want to remember," Gena remarked sadly. "Imagine how rattled I was when I stood before his perfect bourgeoisie family. His mother was... Oh, God, she was almost like Selma, no offence."

It wasn't easy for Claire to imagine that much, for that was a foreign context as far as her dating experience entailed. Her ex's family was friendly, to say the least—they were family friends. And with Ryan's, she had nothing to complain so everything was left to the imagination of what her stepmom would possibly act toward Jeorg's fiancee.

"What did his mother do to get you all worked up, Gena?" Claire asked.

"I don't know how to put it, Claire. I think she didn't approve of me, yet she had no guts to say it out loud in front of her son," Gena said, unsure. After a long sip of her chilled champagne, she added, "I mean, she was being a veteran bitch: the way she talked, scrutinized me as if I've escaped a mental asylum and stuff? I've never felt so judged in my whole life, I swear."

"Well, that's Terrible. But maybe you just imagined it all. What about his dad and siblings? Does he have siblings?" Claire got back to the handbags, giving a little attention to a white Channel.

With a small smile, Gena remarked, "His dad was cool. I liked him. He also has a sister, a teenage brat kind of sister, but she's not a threat."

They erupted into a peal of laughter.

"On the bright side, at least he's decent enough to introduce you to his family, right?" Claire suggested.

"Yeah, sure. Maybe you're right, Claire, but I was not ready for that," Gena argued strenuously. "I'm not even sure of the relationship we have and boom I have to face the parents? The scary mom? No, I did not sign up for that."

"Oh please!"Claire chuckled, fully aware of Gena's exaggeration at times. "You're just scared of how they think of you and I guess that's only natural."

"Maybe." Gena sighed tiredly.

"Relax, sweetie. I think they were just as startled as you are. I'm pretty sure Harry didn't tell them beforehand so no one was prepared for the night," Claire went on, trying her best to lift the wall of doubts her friend had already built.

She had her demons, but she was very much aware of Gena's too when it came to self-esteem and fear of rejection.

"You think?" Curious, Gena sat straight. "Because I didn't even have the chance to ask him. I left immediately after dinner."

"I believe so. Talk to Harry about it; I think you'll feel much better," Claire advised and she meant every word of it.

Gena nodded and stood up after emptying her glass. "Found anything? How about the black bag over there?"

"Nah, nothing new. Let's check the dresses. I need more office clothes," Claire replied and their conversation shifted. "Hmm, this is yummy." She plucked a carrot dress from the racks, not her usual type of colour.

"Yummy indeed. Go try it while I check these boots I definitely won't be able to afford unless my super-rich best friend buys me as she'd promised when she pushed me into this so-not exciting shopping of my life," Gena enthused. Claire burst into giggles. "I'm serious, Claire. I'm broke and I shouldn't be here."

"Well, this super-rich friend of yours will pay for you while we find a way to get you a job. And don't worry, because Jorge said there's an opening."

"I hope with all my heart." Gena smiled faintly.

A moment later, Gena inquired about Ryan. As always, Claire's heart flipped at the name.

"We haven't talked since that day," she answered ruefully.

"I see. No wonder you're so... that!" Gena pointed at her hands at Claire's dull face. "Maybe because he's out of the country. He didn't tell you?"

"No, he didn't. And he had no reason to," Claire answered pensively, and there was a dull ache growing inside her at the thought of him.

The following week went uneventfully, except for one time, on Wednesday, when Bruno dropped by and Claire had lunch with him. Despite being busy with work, and under a tight deadline, she still found time going way slower than she preferred.

Again she heard nothing from Ryan, and it began to bother her immensely without admitting it to herself. However, she believed it was better this way, that it was exactly the change she needed for her life to get back to normal.

Friday arrived and Claire's mood kept being bizarre. She couldn't stand the void inside her and maybe all she needed was distraction. A girl's night out.

"Are you free tonight?" she asked Gena on the phone.

"Depends. Wanna come over?" Gena sounded as bored as she was.

While pacing around her room, a hand on her waist, Claire replied, "I wanna go out."

"Oh, man!"

"Yes! Let's go to a club or... anywhere is fine, really, I just need to drink and have fun," said Claire, desperate to get out of the four walls that had begun to squeeze a life out of her.

"Holy Christ! Do you want to go to a club? You?" Gena exclaimed loudly.

Claire rolled her eyes. "I'm coming to your place. Wait for me." She hung up.

An hour later she was at Gena's. The Asian was amazed by this unusual proposition. Claire and Clubs without any conviction? Ryan was driving her nuts.

"So, let me get this straight," Gena uttered, laughing. "Are you being serious about this clubbing thing?"

"As serious as a pike," Claire said. "I mean, it's Friday, right? Shouldn't we get off some steam or something? I'm getting depressed sitting around waiting for Monday to arrive," she added while rummaging through Gena's dresser for something to wear.

"Depressed over some Ryan?" Gena teased.

Ryan? Was he the only reason for her moods lately? Claire refused to accept that much.

"I don't know, Gena, and I don't care. All I want is something flashy and sexy to wear. Any suggestions?"

"This ought to be good," Gena murmured excitedly.

Picking and tossing, at last, they found what to wear. It felt like their college life was back, and found themselves fooling around with clothes and makeup until an hour or two later when they finally got ready to go.

"Now you look smoking hot, girlfriend," Gena eyed the little red dress that cramped Claire's curves and waistline into place.

"You look great yourself," Claire returned. "Only you could pull a maxi dress and still look like Delilah on the mission."

A loud laughter filled the room.

Heavy music regarded them as one of the wildest clubs perched in the city centre. Gena was a regular—so many smiles were thrown her way from the second they stalled in. A few shots of tequila forced her onto the dance floor which was already on fire, and it only took ten minutes.

Maybe this was going to keep her mind off things for a while, Claire thought as she took a seat at the bar. Smiling, she focused her attention on the bartender, who finally granted his utmost attention to her.

"Have you made up your mind? Because I'm not giving you a cherry soda with how steamy you look," the curly-haired guy behind the counter said.

"What makes you think that I want cherry soda, huh?" Claire asked smilingly. "And even if I did, what's the problem with that?" She already had a simple cocktail but she needed more.

"Everything is wrong with that. It goes against the Friday night rule," he shouted back.

"Oh, really now? Friday night rule?" Claire stared intently at him, and he was easily dragged into the sphere of her terrific eyes. "He blushed. Are you sure you haven't made it up?" she asked.

The bartender laughed aloud. "Okay, you got me there. So, what will you have?" He drew himself back, getting his working mode active.

"Surprise me," Claire said playfully, resting her head on her elbows.

The guy's eyes shone. "As you wish," he said gently and then moved away nonchalantly.

Claire decided to seize the day. Watching people mingling on the dance floor, some making out in some dark corners, others chatting, clinking glasses, and laughing while seated at the booths with faint light, it was all worth it.

And finally, a cocktail glass in front of her: a pink liquid dressed with a slice of pineapple, an umbrella, and a little straw. She arched an eyebrow at the sight of it, and admittedly it was enchanting to the eyes. The bartender shrugged.

"That was quick. What's the name?" Claire asked him.

"I call it..." He leaned over with a big, playful smile. "Hey, gorgeous."

"Hey, gorgeous?" Claire had a soft sip without leaving his eyes. "Are you flirting with me right now?" Her voice was comprehensive.

"Not really, I'm just admiring your eyes." He pulled back to attend to another customer.

"How cute," Claire uttered with a smile.

"What did you say?" he asked over his shoulder while picking glasses.

"I said you are not my type!" Claire replied loudly enough for him to hear.

He burst out laughing, together with another guy who was sitting next to Claire. "Why not? I'm handsome, I'm cool, so why not your type?" He served a smokey whiskey to the guy, still smiling.

"Cool, yes, you are," Claire replied. "But I love fire," she thought aloud, and for once she let her mind wander off to Ryan's penthouse where she got to experience a million emotions in one day.

Why were her body and mind ganging against her?

She missed him.

A hand slipped around her shoulder and she suddenly heard, "Hey, stranger?"

Startled, she snapped, "Gosh! Nathan?" while laughing at him.

"My bad. Didn't mean to startle you." Nathan took a seat casually beside her, laughing back.

"No, worries. Look at you!" Claire remarked, her eyes appreciating him in a casual T-shirt and jeans, unlike his signature office look. "You look great!"

"Well, you look great too, Levy." His eyes glowed the more he stared at her like most men who came across her did. "When you walked, I thought it was someone else," he said, and to the bartender, he added, "Double scotch please!"

"Um, thanks. I didn't know you also come to these kinds of places," Claire said, licking the little straw of her delicious cocktail.

"Well, I do... once in a while. I'm not the only one; the entire team is over there except you," Nathan replied pointedly.

Claire followed his gaze and saw the rest. "Oh, how would I know if I wasn't invited?" She pursed her lips accusingly.

"Oh, our bad." Nathan gave her an apologetic look, his green eyes gentle toward her. "They wanted to invite you but... you know, they thought you wouldn't want to hang out."

"Oh, please. Do I look like a pastor's daughter or something?"

He laughed loudly. "God, you're so funny!"

Claire decided to go to the others and said hi. They hung out a bit before everyone else either went for the dance floor, restroom, or anywhere else away from the booth. In the end, she returned to the bar with Nathan.

After a small talk, mainly about work and other mundane stuff while enjoying another round of drinks, Gena's phone was ringing incessantly inside her purse. Claire opted to ignore it as the Asian was utterly busy at the moment.

"Lydia seems drunk," Claire remarked with a laugh as they spotted one of their colleagues dancing out of the tune.

"The question is... who can stop her? I just hope no one has recorded that zombie move, or else she won't know peace on Monday if Chris has it," Nathan remarked, and they both laughed heartily.

Again, Gena's phone rang, and when Claire finally decided to check, it was Harry. What a timing! Her friend was lost on the dance floor and no way in hell she could ruin that for her.

Seeing how persistent Harry was, Claire decided to answer.

"Hello?" she uttered, blocking her ear. Nothing was clear—too much noise. "Hello?" she yelled louder but it was the same broken speech with music above it.

She hung up.

"You can't make a decent phone call here. Maybe we can step outside," Nathan said suggestively.

"No, it's okay, I'll have to let Gena do it," Claire replied, and luckily Gena was jostling her way back. "Oh, here she is."

"What's up, beautiful." Gena kissed her hard on the cheek, her mood at its peak.

"Jeez! I'll appreciate this display of drunk love and all, but your lawyer has been calling you like crazy," Claire told her and sipped her drink.

"Who, Harry?" Gena asked sharply. Claire nodded her affirmation. "You should've just ignored him! He is the most annoying guy I know. How dare he call me now after ignoring my calls the whole day?" she snapped.

Trouble in paradise? Claire sighed.

"Okay, Gena, sit down and relax a bit. You're drunk and you should calm down." She forced her onto the barstool.

"No, I'm not drunk!" Gena lashed. "Wait, I know what to do. I'm gonna show him what I am and you're gonna help me with that, my friend," she muttered with a diabolical smile. "A lawyer or not, no one messes with Gena Montero! Not even the hot chocolate!" She stood up once again.

"Genaaaa, what are you planning, huh?" Claire was appalled.

"Do you mind taking a selfie with us, Claire's boss?" Gena asked Nathan, who had been observing them in silence with a small smile.

"Um, uh, sure... no problem," Nathan answered hesitantly, bemused.

Claire frowned. "Gena, Gena—"

"Selfie!" Gena squealed. Saying no more, she placed herself between Claire and Nathan and then snapped one picture of them.

"Jesus," Claire breathed.

"Hmm, this is good," Gena said, her hand busy on her phone. "And... sent!" she muttered.

___

Ryan was finally back from his trip to Cuba. Harry was there to pick him up as soon as the SK private jet landed. Now they were driving back to the city while making small talk regarding the deal they'd just closed.

"So, we're branching to Havana, aren't we? This is exciting." Harry grinned at their triumph.

"Oh, yes, we are. Now it's time to show those old men at the next board meeting. Heard it's scheduled for Monday, right?" Ryan glanced at him with a wrinkled face.

"Yeah. This Monday," Harry replied, his eyes constantly on his phone on the dashboard despite handling the steering wheel.

"What's wrong? Are you expecting a call?" Ryan asked him casually, eyes on his phone.

"No, it's nothing," Harry replied curtly, but his face spoke completely the opposite—he looked mad.

Ryan smirked. "Is it a woman?" he asked him.

"Oh come on, why would you conclude it's a woman?" Harry snapped evasively.

"Ryan creased an eyebrow at that, smiling. I've never seen that look on your face before. Are you seeing Gena now? Seems like you two are getting serious, huh?" he teased.

"Stop kidding around!" Harry sighed, his face anxious.

"Sure. I'll stay out of it." Ryan shrugged, finding him amusing.

After a small silence, Harry uttered, "Do you know where those two women are right now?" He gazed at Ryan.

"Those two women?"

"Yes. Gena and... your Claire," Harry said.

"Not really. Do I have to?" Ryan frowned tightly.

"Maybe you'd love to." Harry plucked his phone and touched the screen in search of something. "Check this." He handed the phone to Ryan.

It was a picture sent some minutes ago by Gena. Ryan's brows furrowed in apprehension of what Claire was wearing, most especially when he detected the presence of none other than Nathan Panther.

"Do you know the place?" Ryan asked monotonously.

"I think I do." Harry nodded. "It's the only club Gena goes to, from what she'd told me." He rolled his eyes.

"We're heading there," Ryan articulated.

________

A/N: It's been a long while! Thank you for sticking around.