36. Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Six
Oak the most prominent feature was the slanted glass ceiling, which, under the warm glow of the restaurant’s ceiling lights, made the night sky sparkle even more.
The open kitchen, paired with eclectic interiors and a palette of deep blues and slate grays, gave the space a more refined edge.
How on earth did Harmon find such a place?
The restroom was easy to spot, so she hurried straight there to check her reflection in the mirror.
She wore the same clothes from the broadcast: a pair of black Gucci signora pumps—the only designer shoes she had ever owned—a black midi dress with a sweetheart cut, and silver jewelry.
After reapplying some lipstick, she observed her hair was disheveled, so she opted to style it in a half-ponytail, letting her curtain bangs frame her face naturally as they fell out of the updo.
I guess this is good enough, she thought, and walked out.
The concierge asked, “Do you have a reservation, madam? Or shall I look for a table?”
As she was going to answer, the concierge’s eyes fell on a person behind her.
“She’s with me,” said a deep voice. “Reservation is under Harmon Moon.”
Sal looked over her shoulder and found Harmon, clad in a navy-blue turtleneck, deep gray slacks, and black leather shoes. He looked so sharp and handsome as he followed Sal to their reserved table. Once seated, the server offered the menu and asked if they wanted anything to drink.
“I’ll have a bottle of champagne, please,” he said. The server nodded and disappeared.
Sal gawked at him. “What?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a near smile. “You did well on the broadcast today. And this is our first date,” he said coolly as he looked through the menu.
He was subtly cocky as usual. It was fascinating how his cockiness, which was once annoying, had now become part of his charm. She cringed. Damn, I am developing feelings for him.
“Did you just cringe?”
“Yeah. I’m not used to your being so nice to me.”
Harmon let out a stifled laugh. “Can’t you see I’m trying here?”
“You don’t have to try so hard. I’m done pretending too,” Sal said, leaning forward and clasping her hands together. She wasn’t just referring to her feelings for Harmon; she meant everything else too. She didn’t feel the need to explain this to him, which was refreshing; Harmon just understood.
The server arrived with a bottle of champagne, popped it open, and poured it into two champagne glasses. He took their orders shortly after. She ordered the steak, while Harmon chose the duck confit with wild mushroom risotto, and they ordered some salad to share.
“Speaking of which. You’re not wearing your ring?” Harmon said, eyeing her fingers. Then his eyes traveled to her side and the bag hanging from the side of the chair. He cracked a shy smile at her but didn’t say a thing. Sal was learning to like him this way, blushing and secretly giddy.
She flexed her hands and placed them on her lap. “Rafa and I broke up,” she whispered. “I need time to think and a change of scenery.”
Harmon took a sip of his champagne. “So are you liking the scenery?” he asked, and she knew he wasn’t referring to just the restaurant.
She rested her chin on her palm as she took in the sight of him, from the top of his thick black hair to his straight nose and tapered chin — and a smile escaped her. “Yes,” she said softly. “I like the view.”
Harmon smiled the widest she’d ever seen him smile. “You should see the view from my room too,” he suggested boldly, his smile collapsing into a sheepish grin.
Sal gave him a judging look. “Oh no,” she said, shaking her head with good humor. “You’re not dragging me into a hotel room alone again.”
Harmon nodded as though he was expecting her answer.
“I’m kidding. I’m not here for that. Getting to know you at this level is much better.
” The server arrived with their salad, and they helped themselves.
“Thank you,” he nodded at the server, and when they were alone again, he continued, “though the negative press you were getting was tough to listen to. Some critics weren’t being professional about it.
I have to make a mental note never to work with some of them. ”
Sal raised her eyebrows. “You know everyone’s a critic nowadays.
There’s no end to people saying their opinions—some make sense while others are just spiteful for the fun of it.
Probably because they can’t stand seeing someone unknown make waves.
They just sit there in their mediocrity, embittered, wondering why her?
When they could ask why not her?” Sal explained as she forked her salad.
Harmon wiped his mouth with a napkin and nodded. “Unknown people who make waves are brave, and that bravery is something others fear.”
“Hmm. I can’t really claim to be a brave person. I’ve always been a nervous wreck.”
He shrugged. “Isn’t that also a construct of bravery? Acting through things that frighten you because it lights you up, even if you’re scared? It doesn’t take bravery to do things in your little bubble if it’s guaranteed to succeed.”
Sal considered this notion in connection to the grimoire, and then said, “We still need to play nice though. You should know this. The purpose of the broadcast was to change the narrative of the grimoire.”
Harmon shrugged. “Yes, but all I’m saying is you need to adjust your expectations. How can they rejoice in your happiness when they’re so accustomed to misery, bound by the rules of others?” he asked.
Impressed with his opinions, Sal could do nothing but nod. “Yeah, well, I’m a recovering people-pleaser.”
“You are?”
“Well, I’m not as bad as before, but I’m still the person who spent her entire life specializing in a field because it would please her parents…but I’m trying to unlearn it,” she said, her shoulders tensing.
The server arrived with their main meals and they waited for him to leave before proceeding again.
“That bad?” he said, with his brows tilting upward and mouth forming a grimace.
Sal nodded as she chewed the first cut of her salty, garlicky, and buttery steak.
Harmon gave her a long glance after taking a few bites of the duck confit. “Sal,” he said, wiping his mouth with the napkin. “I have a proposition.”
Sal was midway through chewing another mouthful of delicious steak when she noticed the shift in his tone. “I’m listening.”
“I want to forgo everything,” he said, eyes averted. “I no longer want to pursue Autumn Town, the land, or my inheritance.”
Sal swallowed slowly. Was he being serious? Why would he renege now? She had a lot of questions but the only question that came forth was, “Why?”
Harmon seemed surprised at the question. “Aren’t you glad?” he said.
“Why would I be?” she said, brows furrowed.
“We’ve spent considerable money, time, not to mention resources, on this wager which we agreed and signed on.
” She could feel herself panicking at the thought of Willow’s reaction and Theola’s hard work going down the drain just because of their romance.
Not to mention all the artists she signed on who would benefit from her art show.
“It’s out of the question to back out of this. ”
Harmon bit his lower lip and then clicked his tongue. “I figured you would be elated and say yes.”
Sal set her utensils down. “You don’t think I can do it. You don’t think I can win.”
“That’s not what I said,” he replied, leaning forward.
“But that’s what you’re implying, right?” She tilted her head, her mouth forming a suspicious frown.
“Okay, let’s say I win, and you lose—”
“I won’t lose.”
Harmon paused. “Let’s just say it will go in my favor,” he stated slowly. “What next? You will lose everything.”
“I knew the stakes were high when I agreed to this, Harmon.”
“I’m sorry, I won’t do it.”
“So now you’re developing a conscience?”
Harmon closed his eyes, looking as if he were in pain. “I did not know I would fall in love with you.”
Sal took a breath. “This is all so very romantic, Harmon,” she said, leading the conversation back to where it should be.
“But many people are working hard to make our art exhibits happen.” Sal thought of Willow, who followed her to the Philippines; of Theola, who helped build their following; of Rafa, who traveled with the grimoire, leaving his family business in shambles in order to help her.
She knew what each of them had given up for this, and for her.
If the wager didn’t push through because Harmon fell in love with her, then what?
Would she start a relationship with him and forgo Rafa?
Willow would have wasted her time, Rafa would have lost a fiancée, and Theola would never see the project she worked so hard on, that would be such a boon for her résumé.
If she was to follow her heart and be with Harmon, she would do it without dropping the ball this late in the game.
“I will not call off the wager, nor should you,” she said with finality.
“Then would you ever forgive me if I ended up taking everything from you? You’d resent me.”
“I told you, I won’t lose.”
Harmon inhaled sharply. “Then be with me instead,” he pleaded.
“That way, win or lose, you’d still have Autumn Town.
You’d still have your little cottage overlooking the lake, and your sunrises and sunsets on the porch.
I wouldn’t get in the way. We could live there if you wanted; and you could do whatever you want, as long as you’re with me.
You and I are so much alike. We’ve never belonged anywhere, so let’s belong to each other. ”
Sal paused and pictured herself in the cottage forever.
Harmon told a convincing story. But as she peered down at her lap and looked at her hand where her engagement ring once sat, all she could see was Rafa and herself in that small pocket of heaven she called home.
She thought of Rafa with his plaid outfits.
Rafa, with his handsome smile and dimples.
She remembered Kimmy and Hana snoozing with him on the leather sofa during chilly autumn afternoons.
Then she thought of Autumn Town and their time together building it, and the idea of supplanting him with anyone else made her heart ache.
She took a deep breath and gave Harmon an apologetic look.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that to Rafa.
But I won’t resent you, Harmon. I know what I got myself into and…
” She paused, gathering strength to say the words.
“Whether I win or lose, I’ll accept the outcome.
But you better believe I will give it my all. So don’t go easy on me.”
Sal noticed several expressions on his face that she couldn’t name, but he then said, “See? You’re a lot braver than you give yourself credit for,” and Sal knew he understood.
That’s what she was learning to love about him—he understood; he always did.
The rest of their dinner felt light; Sal felt like she was talking to someone she had known her entire life.
Harmon had that effect on her; she felt like he understood her deep down with no explanation.
When it was time to pick up the bill, Harmon offered to pay, much to Sal’s protestations, and said confidently as he signed it, “I know you can afford your share, but as long as you’re with me, you don’t have to.
” In that way, he and Rafa were alike, both intent on caring for her.
It would have been easier if they were complete opposites, but that was not the case.
Harmon and Rafa were two different men who loved her in their own way.
It wasn’t about who had more money—she could manage on her own—or whom she loved more, because she loved them both.
It was a question of what kind of life she was willing to live if she chose a partner.
As the date ended, Harmon walked Sal to her car. They stood facing each other as she reached for an invitation from her bag and offered it to Harmon. “Our exhibit differs from yours, but maybe you’ll come to like it,” she said proudly.
Harmon’s face lit up. “Wow, it’s an art fair exhibition. I haven’t been to one of these since...”
“Since you were a teen?” she said, completing his thought.
“We’re used to spearheading art fairs in St. Stephenshire, so we’ll do it again, but Pinoy style.
” She explained, “The theme is to dress up in traditional Filipino formal wear for the opening, so I’d get busy looking for a barong if I were you. ”
He nodded, looking pleased.
Sal had named the event When Magic Meets Home. Theola had designed the invite, which had deep purple coloring, foiled gold star adornments, and was sealed with a ribbon in a pretty persimmon shade.
“Even your invitation is lovely,” he said, admiring the foiled stars.
“Thank you.” Sal beamed with pride.
A gust of wind passed them just then. The evening air was cool, and it was getting late. Harmon stepped closer. “Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you? I could always get a taxi back.”
Sal shook her head. “Let’s keep it this way for now,” she said as she pecked him on the cheek. “Thank you for dinner. I’ll see you again on your opening night.”
Harmon bowed, his Korean sensibilities showing. “Good night and good luck, Sal,” he said as she walked to Theola’s car.
The evening had already deepened into a dusted backdrop of bokeh lights against the night sky.
Sal breathed in the cool air as she entered her car.
In the rearview mirror, she could see Harmon waiting for her to leave, hands in his pockets, and with only the glow of the streetlights framing his face.
Sal put down the driver’s side window, felt the breeze caress her face, and waved goodbye as she drove through the Makati city lights.
She smiled to herself as Harmon disappeared from the rearview mirror as she drove and realized she would never forget this wonderful day.