Chapter 14: The Politician's Son
April 19, 2013
5:49 pm
Christine Romulo
"Why are you going on a date with someone you don't know?"
That was the question my mother instantly asked when she found out that I am heading out for the night. Usually, it would be Margaret who would help me with my occasions, but since she is at the hospital, I guess it will be mother who will do the work for her.
"I did not want to go out on a date," I say defensively. "He was just some man that crashed unto me with his motorcycle."
As she was about to grab a dress from the closet, all she could do is look at me incredulously. "What? So now you're a lunatic? Christine, I know there are rumors about your promiscuity, but come on! Have some standards! Don't choose a man who crashed unto you."
"Mother, it's just one date. He says he just wants to make it up to me for what he did. After that, we can forget each other, and everybody is happy."
She just lets out a face that says she does not believe me one bit. "It won't be one last time, Christine. I know you. And, soon enough, you'll have him at your bed, and then thrown away when he's no longer good for you. I did not raise you to be like that. You are a Romulo."
Well, at least she's not being misogynist. She readies my dress and a few of my jewelries. She helps me put on a blue casual dress with a few touches of jewelries. "Just make sure he is a good man from a good family. That is fine with me, fine with your father, and fine for the company."
At the end of all of these, she clasps a silver necklace with a blue pendant around my neck. She urges me to turn around to face her. "Done. You look beautiful."
"Thank you," I say to her.
She kisses me on the forehead and fixes my dress up a bit. Soon after, my maid awaits my door. "Miss, your visitor is waiting at the entrance. Shall I send him in?"
"No, I'll come see him."
The double doors open wide for me. Right outside, there he is leaning on his car with a smile on his face. He approaches me and kisses my hand. Beside me is my mother who looks approvingly at Mateo.
"Well done, Christine," my mother whispers to me. "Looks like I don't have to worry about you after all. I guess being the wife of a politician's son is not that bad for our name."
*
A politician's son? What does mother mean? Inside this car, I cannot help but look at him every time. I feel like I have to know. Who is this man?
"Mateo, I feel like I have to ask you," I say gently. "As we are going on a date and must engage in such conversations, I need to know. What is your name?"
He just laughs at me. "Well, for that lengthy introduction for a single question, I must say that you have already answered yourself. My name is Mateo, and you are Christine."
"Well, I meant your full name."
His smile dies down when he hears the question. "Mateo Jonathan Macedo. That is my name. And, I suppose I already know yours. You are Christine Romulo, and that was your mother, Irene."
"How do you know all that?"
"The world of the elite is a small place, sweet Christine. Everybody knows everybody. Just give a name of your relative, and I'll know who you are."
A Macedo. Possibly the son of the very governor I want to take down. I couldn't be in a more terrible situation such as this. All I can do is give another smile of fakery. No, I cannot ignite suspicion. I cannot let him know the things I have done against his family. Or, he might still not know that it is done.
*
He drove me around the city. I see the skyline of this beautiful city where the lights flicker like fireflies hanging on trees. The waters reflect the lights and beauty of this town. As the capital city of this country, this city is the center of commerce, business, national concerns, basically everything! As he drives around some more, we pass over flyovers, underpasses, bridges, anything that showcase the city's beauty.
Then, he passes by a quieter part of the city. I see lovers walking around with their arms locked into each other and a night owl chirping their love away. The streetlights shine beautifully with their warm colors inducing romance for these lovers. The clay brick pavements of this part of the road give it an old-fashioned look, like the Spanish villages up north. There is even a carriage with a horse pulling it, giving it an illusion of going back in time. Then, I realized. We are at the older part of the city. The buildings are made of the same stone and asphalt as the University of Saint Dominic. Some parts are in ruins, but other find it a beautiful reminder of time.
After driving around some more, we move into the uptown part of the city. I see women dressed in their trench coats catching their taxis to commute their way home. Men in suits talk amongst themselves probably about business of some sorts. Everything around here screams business with the tall skyscrapers, dollar signs everywhere, and just the seriousness of the surroundings. Suddenly, he goes inside of a driveway of a particular skyscraper. This particular skyscraper has a set of security that already knows Mateo. They just let him in the arm barrier of the driveway without even asking for anything.
Inside the driveway, I can now see that this is more of an underground carpark with many luxurious brands of cars showing all around from the classic Mercedes-Benz to an expensive Lamborghini. He finds a parking spot near the entrance of this skyscraper. I'm used to this life, but somehow, I am in awe of what's going on. Is it because I am not on a mission of seduction that I notice the beauty of this city? Is it because I am letting the world take charge this time? I can never know.
And suddenly, I see him open the door for me. He lets out his hand to help me out, to which I gladly take.
"You seem rather pleased of what I'm doing," he remarks.
"You are being quite the gentleman here, Mister Macedo," I say teasingly to him. "What luck you have to go on a date with one of the country's wealthiest all because of a motorcycle accident."
He laughs at my teases and whispers something in my ear. "Accident or no, I still would have asked you had chance come along my way." He then breaks away from me. "We are, after all, elites. We know each other, socialize with each other, and maybe one day, marry each other."
I just smile at his assumption. That clearly isn't going to happen. You are not marrying me. "Shall we?"
"Of course."
He then puts his arm in order for me to cross mine with his. Of course, it figures. This is his act of being a gentleman. Quite oddly, he not like his father. Who is this man? Is it right to say that he is, or will be, like his father? I just shake the thought away. Who knows? Maybe the son did not carry the father's sins. Maybe it was all Macedo's greed with no family encouraging it.
We go into an elevator. Inside, he presses the top floor. When we went out of it, we are now suddenly inside of this chill and cosmopolitan restaurant. The lights are fairly dim with candles bringing light to each table. The music is that of jazz, like that of from the 20s with a live band performing it. I see the restaurant being adorned by aquarium displays of rare sea creatures such as eels, carps, lion fishes, trouts, and many more. I can even see some of my father's partners around here that they just give me a short nod when they see me.
Immediately, the hostess leads us into a reserved seating area. I guess he has already planned and prepared for this. As we sit, the hostess gives us the menus.
"Hi, good evening," the hostess says after she had handed the menus. "My name is Claire, and I will be your host for tonight. Our special for today is…"
I let her go on with her speech about what the specials are. Honestly, I think the specials are a fraud and that they want to sell more of that stuff than the ones that are obviously more technical and expensive to make. But then, as I turn the pages of the menu, I find it quite fascinating how every piece of item here is seafood. Then, I look at the cover. Of course. It's a seafood restaurant. This is possibly why I don't know this place – Oriental Seaside. It's because my parents never took me here due to my allergy with seafood.
"I think I'll take the seabass with – "
"Mateo, may I have a word please?" I ask before he was about to order.
"What's wrong?
"I can't eat here," I say quietly, so that the waitress can't hear.
"What? Why not? I have already prepared and – "
"I'm sorry. I just can't. The food here is dangerous for me."
"What do you mean?" he looks at the hostess for a while. "I think we'll think about our orders first. Will you please give us a minute to talk?"
The hostess just bows and leaves us. Mateo turns his attention to me once more with a grave face. "Christine, how is the food dangerous? Do you have any allergy?"
"Yes," I answer. "With everything on the menu. I can't eat any form of seafood."
His enthusiasm just fades away when I said that. I know, I am sorry for him too, but I just really can't. "Well, what are we going to do now? I don't have a reservation booked with another restaurant. I might as well just take you home."
I just sit in silence for a while as he talks. Then, it came to me. "I think I know what we can do right now."
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