26. Chapter Twenty-Five Gloria
Chapter Twenty-Five: Gloria
D uring my lunch break at work, I'm about to call my brother Paulo and my mom to tell them about my trip when an email alert pops up on my computer.
Clicking on it out of curiosity—and because part of me is dreading the interrogation I'll receive when I tell my family I'm dating someone—I read the title.
JOB POSTINGS
Because of your interest in "nonprofit legal jobs", we have found the following listings for you.
I skim the list of jobs; most of them are volunteer positions or part-time work at places like animal shelters, but I find one that looks interesting to me.
Healing Hearts Children's Home . It’s a group home for children, often orphans, who have experienced some kind of trauma or loss, and they need a legal expert to help them with applying for government grants, administration, and ensuring legal compliance with local child protection laws.
It looks like the kind of work that would be demanding, but meaningful. More meaningful than what I do right now, even if the pay is lower than my current salary. I have been putting away some of my salary in investments in a retirement plan, so I wouldn’t be too strapped for cash.
Without thinking, I hit the apply button and start working on my application, drafting a cover letter. After typing out a brief missive, I stop second guessing my wording and submit the application.
Then, I head out to call Paulo and my mom.
Eddie's cheerful face greets me when the FaceTime call connects to my mom's phone. "Gloria!"
"Eddie! I’ve missed you. But why are you answering my mom's phone?"
"She's cooking dinner right now, so she told me to answer it," he says. "Do you want to talk to her?"
"Actually, I wanted to talk to her and Paulo. Is Paulo around?"
Eddie makes a pretend-grumpy face. "So you don't want to talk to me?"
"Of course I want to talk to you," I say with a laugh. I've missed him so much. It's hard to see how much older he looks because when I left, he was still a kid. Now he's a teenager. "I actually wanted to tell you all that I'm coming home for a visit on Halloween."
His face lights up. "Really?"
"Yes. I'm also bringing my boyfriend, London."
He crows in a sing-song tune, "Gloria has a boyfriend, Gloria has a boyfriend!"
I laugh, even though there's no way out of this now that he's declared it that loudly. "Eddie!"
As if on cue, my mom comes into frame and dismisses Eddie, telling him to go help her chop vegetables. He sighs loudly but does as he's told. "What's this? Gloria, you have a boyfriend and you didn't even tell me?"
"Mom, it's not like I meant to exclude you from the conversation. I haven’t even told Paulo yet. "
She sighs, as if that doesn’t make it any better. "When did this happen? Who is he?"
"His name is London—"
"Your coworker? The boy you've been friends with since college?"
"That's him. And this only happened a few weeks ago."
"I'm happy for you, sweetheart." Her smile is genuine. "I can't wait to meet him. You are bringing him when you come visit, right?"
"Yes, I'm bringing him in a few weeks. I was thinking he could stay with Paulo at the beach house?"
"Of course," she says. "Make sure to let Paulo know."
We catch up for a few more minutes before she has to finish making dinner and I have to go eat my lunch before heading back to work.
After finishing my pancit —my favourite stir-fried noodle dish—I head back to my cubicle, only to find London sitting on my desk.
"You know, I thought we were trying to keep our relationship on the down-low." A smile plays across my lips anyway.
"Maybe I accidentally spilled glue on your desk and now my pants are stuck," he says.
I burst out laughing and sit down. "Did you actually?"
"No. I just wanted to see you after I missed you at lunch."
I cast an eye around the office to make sure no one's watching before he leans down to kiss me, a quick peck on the lips that nonetheless makes me feel suffused with a pleasant glow.
"Are you ashamed to be seen with me, Ria?" London asks, hopping off my desk.
"No," I say quickly. "We're just… at work."
"Okay," he says. "And?"
"And, we're supposed to be working."
"Technically, we still have five minutes left of our lunch break. "
I check my watch and find that he's right. "Well, we're supposed…"
"We have unpaid lunch breaks. You know that as well as I do," he reminds me, resting his hand on the arm of my chair, right next to where my elbow is. I never thought my elbow had so many nerve endings until it was millimetres away from being touched by his fingers.
"Um…" It's true that I can't think of any excuses for him not to kiss me at work, other than that I'm worried we'll be teased by Reggie and Giorgio. Or perhaps accused of being unprofessional in the workplace. But it's not like he's my boss—we're coworkers.
"Are you worried someone will see us and report us to HR?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.
"Maybe." I shrug. "Aren't you?"
"No," he says. "I want everyone here to know that you're mine, and I'm yours."
A shiver runs down my spine. "I told my mom about our trip."
"I like the sound of that," he says.
"Of our trip?"
"I like the idea of having 'our' trip, and things we do," he says. "It's… nice."
"I like that, too," I whisper.
"Good." His lips curve into a smile.
He lingers at my desk for a few moments as I tap on the keyboard to bring the screen back to life. The screen shows my confirmation email for my job application and the cover letter.
"What's that?" London asks, arching an eyebrow. "Are you leaving McMann and Ma?"
"No?" I say. "I mean, I don't know? Maybe?"
"That's not the Gloria I know," he says. "Ending three sentences in a row with question marks."
"It's a job that popped up," I say. "I was just messing around. "
London frowns. "That's not like you either. You don't 'mess around' with your career."
"I'm not messing around with my career…" I bite my lip. "I told you I’ve been feeling bored. Yes, the pay is good, but I feel like I have no purpose here."
London frowns.
"I started law school to pursue justice, you know? And now I'm fighting lawsuits for companies that might actually have ethics violations, which is the opposite of what I wanted to do."
"That makes sense. What job did you apply to?" he asks.
I show him the job posting and he reads it over.
"Wow, that sounds like a great nonprofit to work at," he says. "I'm sure you'll get the job."
"Thanks, London. I don't even know if I want the job, though."
"Even if you don't want it, I'm sure you'll hear from them in no time," he says. "You're amazing. They'd be stupid not to hire you. And it sounds like work you’d enjoy more than you do now.”
"Aww, thank you." I squeeze his hand.
He goes back to his desk and I try to focus on work. Still, the job application burns in the back of my mind, as do his words.
I spend the rest of the day half-heartedly typing up legal documents, calling clients, and other busywork.
Then I jump away from my desk at five pm sharp, pack up my stuff, and powerwalk to the elevator.
London follows me a moment later, setting a hand on my lower back.
I feel the heat of his touch through the layers of my blazer and button-down shirt, and spin around to face him.
"What's the rush, Ria?" he asks while we wait for the elevator.
I shrug. "I just want to have enough time to go grocery shopping, clean the apartment, and start packing my suitcases for the trip. "
He chuckles and we fall into step alongside each other. "Suitcases, plural? We're going for five days, why do you need more than one bag?"
I shake my head as we get into the elevator and push the button for the parking garage. "Men."
"Please enlighten me, a man, as to why you would need more than one suitcase for a five-day holiday."
"I need one for souvenirs, concert merch, and I'm sure my family will start bombarding me with requests for stuff they want me to bring them from the States," I say, just as my phone goes off. Sure enough, it's Paulo asking me to bring him a certain brand of coffee he likes. “I’m bringing so much stuff back, and then when I get there I’ll have to bring back all the stuff that I can’t find here.”
"You can put that stuff in my suitcase if you want," London offers. "That way you won't need to pay for more than one checked bag."
"Are you sure? I don't want to weigh down your luggage."
"Let me carry your stuff for you. You know, like a boyfriend would," he says with a knowing glint in his eye. "Besides, it's just five days in the Philippines. All I need are my swim trunks and shorts."
"You're not bringing a shirt?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Would you like me to bring a shirt?" he says, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. Only, I’m the canary.
"Of course," I splutter. I'm definitely not thinking about the time he answered the door shirtless when I showed up at his apartment. "You're going to be around my family. You can't walk around shirtless all the time."
"Would it be too scandalous for you?"
"Yes!" I retort as the elevator doors open and we walk into the parking garage. "Can we please stop talking about inappropriate family vacation attire?"
"Are you bringing a swimsuit? "
"Only if you bring at least two shirts," I say.
"You can wear the other one," he teases.
The last thing I need is to think about wearing London's shirt. I still haven’t returned his hoodie.
"Fine," I say, sliding into the driver's seat of my car and looking straight ahead.
I don't even protest when London plugs his phone into the aux cord and starts playing a podcast on the stock market.
Although I really should. I don't need to worry about the economy when I have enough things on my plate already.
"Why are we listening to this? We both took finance classes in college. "
"I'm trying not to think about you in a swimsuit, so this was my idea of a mood-killer."
"It's working." I back out of the parking spot as the host drones on in a monotonous voice about index funds and ETFs. "So you're saying the mere thought of me is too distracting for you?"
London leans over, his lips caressing the shell of my ear. "Just as much as the thought of me shirtless is too distracting for you , Ria."
I can't hide the shiver that runs down my spine. This is going to be a long few weeks until our vacation.