Chapter 33: Chapter 33

C H A P T E R - F O U R T E E N

While I walked in humiliation up to my house, Fang lazed by the curb. Really, it wasn't a walk of shame, but no one would know that if they saw me in broad daylight wearing a tiny black dress and stunning heels.

Fortunately, I discovered that Fang wasn't a gifted communicator. This was both advantageous and disadvantageous since it allowed me to retreat to my head and remain there the entire distance to Falcone's lair. This was both good and terrible for me because I needed to be in my brain to sort my junk out, but I didn't want to be there and I didn't know how to do it.

As soon as I opened the door, I discovered Melinda, Micah, Antonette, and Mrs. Bartolome all seated on my furniture and sipping coffee on the left side of my living room. The dust mist on all surfaces had vanished, the furniture had been rearranged, and the floors had been swept. The remodeling tools have disappeared. Even though it was vacant, the right side of the living room was equally neat. My once-empty den was revealed to be used as storage for tools, tubes, cans, and equipment by a peep through the glass doors. However, at least it appeared to be a living room. The walls still needed to be re-skimmed, the floors refinished, the fireplace mantels stripped and redone, and the light fixtures needed to be replaced.

Jeez. It had just turned ten. Melinda had a lot going on.

I admired them as I gazed at them. They were all wonderful, in my opinion. And I adored how Melinda transformed my living room into one.

However, I desired cookie dough. Being alone and baking cookies.

No, I required some alone and cookie dough.

A lot, and I mean, a lot

.

I cried out, "Hey."

Good night, sir.

Melinda smiled.

I muttered, "Um.

Mrs. Bartolome praised the dress, saying, "That's a wonderful dress."

I came into my house thinking Mrs. B was being so Mrs. B and said,

"Thanks, Mrs. B," even though I was wearing the clothing that everyone could see made me seem like a slut from the previous night.

She said, grinning broadly at me, "Heard you have a hot one on your hook."

I suppose so, but I was concerned that I was now on his hook.

I said again, "Um."

"You alright?

Mic questioned as he gave me a close look.

I said again, "Um."

All female eyes were fixed on me since it looked I was speechless.

Mic then relocated.

"Right," she murmured as she rose from the couch. "Shower, yoga pants, here we go!" " she said and clapped her hands, hurrying me up the stairs and up them, directly to my bathroom.

I turned to face her as I approached the restroom door. Mic was my height, all legs and booty, with small cleavage that wasn't much to write home about, but it didn't matter since she was absolutely stunning. Large almond eyes, big lips, fantastic cheekbones, an exquisite jawline, and wonderfully arched brows. She was Antonette's exotic, African American yin to her girl next door yang. This used to bother me because my two best friends were like runway models set wild on society, but I learnt to suppress my feelings of inadequacy by copious amounts of cosmos and purchasing for wonderful outfits that would boost my confidence whenever I went out with them.

"Mic," I introduced myself.

"You're freaked," she said, reading me like a book.

Of course, I wasn't trying to be cryptic.

"Something occurred," I explained. "Well, a lot of stuff occurred, but -"

Antonette's exotic, African American yin to her girl next door yang was her. This used to upset me because my two best friends were like catwalk models gone rogue in society, but I learned to hide my feelings of inadequacy by consuming copious amounts of cosmos and shopping for fabulous clothing that would boost my confidence whenever I went out with them.

I introduced myself as "Mic."

"You're freaked," she remarked, like if I were a book.

Of course, I wasn't attempting to be mysterious.

"Something happened," I said. "Well, a lot of things happened, but -"

I accepted it and shifted my gaze to Mic. "How did you get rid of Melinda and Mrs. B?" ”

This, I realized, was an accomplishment. Melinda was the only mother I knew, and she was concerned about me even though I was thirty-three and there was nothing to be concerned about. Mrs. B was Grandma to me and every other youngster on the neighborhood, whether they were thirty-three, three, or sixty-three years old. She was your Grandma if you were younger than her, and practically everyone I knew was younger than her save her friend Erma, who evidence suggested was dating Father Time.

"I didn't have to," Mic explained. “Mrs. B is accompanying Melinda to her home to speak with the insurance representative. But I had to promise a thorough briefing."

"You're not delivering a comprehensive briefing," I said as I sat in my office chair and sipped my coffee.

She mumbled, "Of course not."

"What's up with the expression?"

" Antonette inquired, and I turned to face her.

"Which face?"

"Your face," she said in response. "You seem... I'm not sure how you look. I felt the date was fantastic. Last night, I received twelve SMS saying how wonderful the date was. You don't appear to have had a good time on the date."

My gaze shifted to the window. "It did."

“So? " Mic inquired, and my gaze shifted to her.

"Thursday called," I said, Mic's eyes slowly closing, but Antonette's look changed to puzzled.

I locked my gaze on Mic. Mic was aware of something.

“Thursday called? " Antonette inquired.

I choose to ignore her.

“Mic? " When I shouted her name, her eyes opened and a light shined in them, a sad, sorrowful light. "Mic," I said quietly.

"You said you two were through," she remarked quietly.

This was correct.

“Thursday called? " Antonette said again, impatiently, and I looked at her.

"The finest date ever, greater than my wildest aspirations. He was into me, he was interested in everything I said, he was witty, and he got me Jimmy Choos," I informed her, and her eyes brightened.

"I know, his girlfriend, Ramona, who, by the way, is funny; she sworn me to secrecy, but I thought it was so awesome!" Completely selfless. I offered her my discount, but she declined. I just gave you a business credit card. Awesome! " Antonette finished with a sob and a jump on the couch.

"Yeah, fantastic, till Thursday phoned," I said, and Antonette looked perplexed once again.

"What's the deal with Thursday?" she inquired.

"I'm not sure," I said, looking at Mic. "But do you, don't you?" ”

Micah's gaze was fixed on mine. She then sighed.

Then she said something. She remarked, "Yago 'Falcone' Cabrera is on the grid." "In fact, he's all over the grid. He's so on the grid." There's considerable mystery and supposition around his operations, but he's Mr. Grid. If it's occurring in Manila, he'll know about it, and rumor has it that he's occasionally involved, but no one knows how. Also, no one knows what he does or everything that he does; all they know is that he's a busy person."

I had previously suspected this and didn't care at the time.

So I inquired, "And?"

She took a deep breath, the kind that signaled she was preparing me for something unpleasant.

Then she began to give me the unpleasant. "When it comes to Cabrera, one thing is certain: His Days are not mysterious."

"What about His Days?"

" Antonette said again.

Mic gave her a nod. "Also known as His Women."

"Shit," Antonette whispered, her gaze shifting to me, but my gaze remained fixed on Mic as I battled to breathe.

"Talk to me," I gasped out.

"Girl, I'm really sorry," Mic murmured, pressing her lips together.

I felt a tingling sensation in my throat, but it wasn't as joyous as it had been the night before.

"Talk to me, Mic," I said quietly.

Mic took another breath before saying, "OK, Cabrera is known to claim women." He does this and schedules them accordingly. They come and leave, but they are claimed while they are there. He studies them and makes it plain that no one should approach them. When he's finished with them, he's finished; one moves out, and another moves in."

"This can't be," I said. "I'm not going to have a day."

Mic inhaled. This is not a good indication.

“What? " I inquired.

"Girl," she began.

I leaned forward and did it again. “What? ”

“You’re known as a Filler.”

Oh my goodness.

"I'm a Filler?" I said quietly.

She gave a nod. "He comes to you when he wants a change, or one of his ladies is out of town, or he has a slot free that he hasn't filled yet."

"My name is Filler," I said again.

"Honey," Antonette said quietly.

"Who knows who I am as Filler?"  I inquired at Mic.

"Um..." she paused before saying, "everyone now."

"Everyone now," I said again.

She gave a nod.

“Magtanggol?”

She bit her lower lip and nodded once more.

Oh my goodness!

“Finn?" I inquired.

"Probably," Mic said.

I looked down at the ground. Then it hit me, and I returned my gaze to Mic.

"She knew," I explained.

"What is it, babe?"Mic inquired.

"She knew it was Thursday. She knew what she was, who she was, and what day it was. She knew his name and his phone number."

"Well, err -" Mic began.

I interrupted her. "I suppose if you get a guaranteed position, you get his contact information." But Filler, Filler is now simply filler."

"Gigi, honey," Antonette said softly.

"I don't believe this!" I sprang out of my chair.”

Micah and Antonette both leapt to their feet.

"Gia, baby, pay attention to me. He's now off routine, according to the discussion. This nonsense with His Days is for them what it was for you, late-night visits and strict restrictions. He never dates them; he only sleeps with them."

“So? " I shouted, slamming my mug against my desk, coffee splattering.

"So, this is fantastic, you've broken through," Antonette said immediately and eagerly, as she always did with my beloved, beautiful Tonette.

"No, Tonette, this isn't good," I said again. "It's embarrassing."

That it was. It was embarrassing. Deeply embarrassing to the core.

The hardest thing was that I had caused it to happen to myself.

Again!

I raised my hands, put my fingers through my hair, and clung on. "I cannot believe it. "I'm not sure what to do with this," I said to the floor.

"Perhaps you should talk to him about it," Mic, of all people, said, and I lifted my head so my gaze could narrow on her.

"Are you stoned?" " I screamed, and she flinched. "Everyone on the grid knows I'm filler. God! " I ran my fingers through my hair and threw them out to my sides, saying, "God! ”

"Calm down, Babe," Mic murmured quietly.

I raised my hands again, pressing my palms to my brow, and peered at her through my arms. "I want him," I said quietly.

"Then talk to him," Mic said quietly.

"I wanted him to be exceptional," I kept saying quietly.

"Girl," she continued to murmur as she drew closer, putting her fingers around my arm, "speak to him."

"For him to be exceptional, he must make me feel unique." Not like Jonas made me feel." I heard Antonette weep, she understood how Jonas made me feel, they both did.

"And definitely not worse than Jonas made me feel."

Mic's other hand came up and wrapped around my arm, tugging it down. She stepped in close, her hands sliding up to hold mine while Antonette crept into our tiny huddle.

"I did this to myself," I said quietly.

"Baby," Mic replied as Antonette wrapped her arm around my waist and said, "Honey."

"I wanted to believe I could make it," I continued.

"Perhaps you have," Mic responded.

"I believe you have," Antonette added.

"I hung on, expecting to break through," I said, pretending they were silent.

"Gia, take a deep breath and clear your mind," Micah said.

I lowered my head and examined my toes. Winter polish in dark cherry. Summer was everything I needed. I needed the sun. It was time to take a break.

"I'm always going to be filler," I told my toes.

"Oh honey," Antonette said quietly.

I abruptly drew back, lifted my head, and declared, "I need to finish on time." I stared at Mic. "Can I spend the night with you and Ryan?" ”

"That's not a good idea," Antonette remarked.

"You can, baby," Mic answered.

“Mic!" Antonette snapped, and Mic turned to face her.

"She needs space," Mic said again.

"He's coming to you tonight, isn't he?" Antonette said.

"No," I said. "He wants me to accompany him."

Her eyes widened as she drew closer. "Then leave."

"No," I said.

She cupped her hands over my shoulders. "Gigi, I understand it, this stinks, but I can't help but believe that -"

I took a step back, and her hands fell. "I can. I can imagine that. Tonette, I'm not even furious with him. I'm not. This is my picture. I did it to myself. This was something I permitted to happen. And if I'm going to have any self-respect after this fucking,fucking catastrophe, it's up to me to put a stop to it."

"That's a poor decision," Antonette stated emphatically.

"Perhaps, but it's the one I built," I said, straightening my shoulders. "Jonas penetrated me and I adored him." That nearly killed me. I was even aware that it was occurring, and I tolerated it until I couldn't anymore. I waited too long to take care of myself with Jonas, expecting he'd straighten his mess out, and I waited too long with Falcone. Even if things have changed for him, I'll always be aware of who I've allowed myself to be and what others think of me. It's no surprise that both Magtanggol and Finn believed they could make a play. Who can blame them for wanting to get in? A sure thing who opens her bed and her legs, no questions asked, no expectations, just the chance to get off and go your own way till you're through. Shit! ”

"That's not who you are," Mic said.

“No? "Seems like that to me," I said.

"Then you're mistaken, girl," Mic responded.

My head trembled. "I can't even think about it right now. I had to go to work. I'll be there as soon as I submit my files," I promised Mic.

She looked at me and whispered calmly, "All right, daughter. Today is my day off. "I'll buy some ice cream."

I clarified, "cookie dough."

"Cookie dough," she said quietly.

"Gigi -" Tonette began, and my gaze was drawn to her.

"I love you, sweetheart, you know that, but not right now." I can't handle your optimism right now. Please.”

"All right," she said quietly.

"I need to work," I said again.

"Right," Mic said.

I nodded once and twisted my wrist to switch on my computer. As I heard them leave the room, I grabbed a Kleenex from the box on my desk to clean up the coffee spill.

“Gia? " Mic yelled, and I spun around with a coffee-soaked Kleenex in my hand; she was at my door. "Jonas was a jerk, and Cabrera had complete influence over his life. He got one dose of you in broad daylight and it changed his entire manner of doing things. "You are not who you believe you are," she explained.

No, she was mistaken. I was precisely who I believed I was, and the worst part was that Yago "Falcone" Cabrera was aware of it.

"I have to work," I explained.

"You are not who you believe you are," she said again.

I locked my gaze on her.

"Cookie dough," she said quietly as she walked away from my door.

"Ready, ready," I replied to the courier who was standing outside my door, clearly anxiously waiting for me to finish writing out the check from the number I'd written down when I contacted Nordstrom's to find out how much a pair of fantastic silver, watersnake, platform, peep toed slingbacks cost.

I signed the check, ripped it off, and stuffed it in the envelope with the message I'd hurriedly written while I still had the strength.

Falcone,

Regarding the shoes. You must find someone to cover my shifts.

Gia

I licked the envelope before closing it and handing it over to the courier.

"You don't have a business name?" he inquired.

My head trembled. "No, I only know the building, fourteenth floor, straight off the elevators, directly down the hall, and second door on the left." Tell whomever gets it to deliver it to Falcone."

His brow furrowed. “Falcone? ”

“Falcone.”

He looked at me as if I had a screw loose.

Then he murmured, "Whatever," and walked away.

I closed the door behind him.

Then I went upstairs and emailed my work to my author, along with my notes. Then I packed my belongings. Then I left a letter for Dad and Melinda in the kitchen. Then I got in my car, which Melinda and I had gone to fetch the day before from her place.

Then I went to Mic and Ryan’s.