9. Chapter Nine
Chapter Nine
The Wager
SAL
When Sal sat in Michael McGuirre’s small conference room a week later, she had a faint idea of what was to come.
The process, Michael explained, would be a formal mediation before a legal battle.
Michael convinced her to do it. The truth should be enough, so why must she attend this mediation?
She thought, as she sat there, eyes fixed at the door.
If it hadn’t been for Rafa building up the idea with Michael, she would have skipped the mediation and gone for a legal battle.
Harmon entered a few minutes later with Briggs trailing behind him and another woman, who was undoubtedly his lawyer.
They all sat opposite Rafa, her, and Michael.
Harmon still had that polished and collected look to him, and it upset Sal more than she cared to admit.
The nerve, she thought, of him sitting coolly as if he were the rightful owner ready to take what he believed was his.
So when the mediation began, her posture had stiffened, and she met Harmon’s gaze with a deadpan expression.
Michael would do most of the talking, and whenever necessary, Rafa would speak first to set the tone, and she would follow.
Rafa mouthed, “Charm offensive,” when he perceived her annoyance.
Harmon’s lawyer said, “Even if Ms. Claire Liang wasn’t aware of my client upon her death, my client reserved the right to contest the inheritance given their relationship.” Harmon’s lawyer spoke as though she were reciting something she’d memorized.
“If money is the primary concern, maybe we could work on my client settling an agreed amount in tranches instead of in a lump sum?”
Before Harmon’s lawyer could respond, Harmon intervened.
“No,” he said curtly. “It’s too messy.”
“So you’ve wasted all our time here,” Sal retorted, her patience wearing thin, and her voice hardened with irritation. “Why bother coming here if all you’ll do is reject our terms?”
“Have I?” Harmon raised a brow and smirked. Was this all a joke to him? “You haven’t heard my terms yet.”
It took all of Sal’s energy not to roll her eyes into the crevices of her skull.
Of course he had come to the mediation expecting to be the only one with terms worth considering.
But something piqued Sal’s interest because out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Harmon’s lawyer fidget nervously.
A thrill came over her, and with little thought, she blurted out, “Let’s hear your terms then! ”
Harmon smiled and said, “I’d like to propose a wager.”
Sal was not about to stop him from tripping over himself, so she responded, “Go on…”
“If you win, you get to keep everything as is. But if I win, you will relinquish everything to me—the cottage, the land Autumn Town’s built on, and the Art Cards from Nowhere.”
“There’s no way we will accept this,” Rafa objected.
“We can leave that decision to Dr. Poe,” Harmon replied.
“So it’s either we do this or duke it out in court,” she summarized. Harmon met her gaze with a determination that taunted her. Something within her lit up like a dull fire spurred into roaring flames. “State your terms,” she demanded.
Harmon leaned forward, like a predator that had just lured its prey in for the kill.
“You and me compete in the arena we’re both in—an art show, make it the biggest and most grand one ever, and whoever has the most crowd turnout, meets the minimum amount of sales, and meets the passing score from critics will win.
” He jeered, leaned back, and finished with, “Since I am a gentleman, the lady will decide where this will take place…”
The fire within Sal turned into a ravenous blaze.
His proposal was, for lack of a better word, enticing—an opportunity to win against and humiliate this arrogant twat.
Her mind raced to come up with a place even he, with all his vast connections, would have difficulty navigating.
Then it hit her like a sudden gust of wind.
Old Manila beckons you… a voice said in the deep recesses of her mind.
Cool sweat trickled down her spine, and her breathing hitched as she mouthed, with little thought, the following words: “The Philippines.”
“You’re not actually agreeing to this, Sal—?!” Rafa said.
“The Philippines it is.” Harmon’s response came out strong, muffling Rafa’s, then he added, “In the spirit of being fair, travel expenses will be shouldered by me, but all the other personal charges will be on your account. We both must scout together and decide after which museums to host our individual art shows at.” He looked to his lawyer, who held a hand to her forehead.
“Did you get that? Let’s write up the papers.
” His disgruntled lawyer did nothing but exhale and nod.
Sal looked to Michael, who had a pained expression on his face, almost as if he was pleading with her not to push through, but she ignored his beseeching gaze and said with finality, “Michael, you know what to do.”
***
Rafa’s pace was quick as they exited McGuirre they listened to their shared playlist on the way back as usual; he opened the door for her when they arrived at the cottage as usual.
It was only after pacing to the kitchenette and gulping down a glass of water that he spoke. “You must be thirsty after that meeting…” he said in a tone so worn and defeated that her guilt turned her inside out. He took another empty glass with his back turned to her and poured for her too.
She took a few gulps from the glass before setting it down and then hugged him from behind. Her words failed her. All she knew was that she wanted to hold him. She felt his breathing steady and the rhythmic beating of his heart slow down at her touch.
“I would cross all distances if it meant being with you at the end,” he said as he exhaled softly.
Sal remained silent and then realized what she had done. She expected what he was going to say next with a nervous ache that spread out through her chest. The kind one felt as a child when they knew they had done something terribly wrong.
“But I can’t go with you to the Philippines,” he whispered. He rested his hands on her forearms as they dug in tighter around his waist. “You know I can’t.”
He was right. How could he possibly go? Not with his company in shambles while going through an internal audit.
“I hate that you’re going with Harmon and not me.” He turned around and held her face in his hands.
Sal felt like she was going to burst into tears when he kissed her forehead. The tears didn’t come; instead, a muffled ache lingered in the center of her chest. “If you ask me not to go, then I won’t,” she whispered, looking up at him.
Rafa remained silent. He was too noble, too kind, too accepting of all her faults. Her heart ached. He was too good for her, and she knew it. She knew he would never ask her that.
“Can I tell you something?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I love you, Sal. Together, we can weather storms and build something meaningful. When I look at us, I see us wrinkled, gray, and happy. I know how much Autumn Town means to you. So I won’t ask you to stay.
” He looked deeply into her eyes. “I’ve never been so afraid of losing anyone in my entire life.
You’re my person. You’re that someone I turn to, knowing that all will be all right as long as you hold me through it.
So I want to protect you, to care for you, and to love you.
Please, promise me you’ll be fine without me. ”
Sal nodded. “I promise,” she said, her eyes wet with tears. He released his hold on her face, and she buried her head in the soft base of his neck. “I love you too.”
Rafa caressed her back. He bent over and left a trail of kisses on her chest up to the edge of her jaw. She willingly surrendered, arching her back slightly so he could kiss her in more places. He reached her ear and groaned, “Can I have you now?”
Sal let out a soft whimper and nodded. She wanted him. She wanted his weight, feel, and smell on her. He lifted her and placed her on the leather sofa, and they made passionate love throughout the night.