by Tara Frejas
“Maybe he thought you were friends? Or maybe he wants to tap you for a project.”
“Hah, no thanks! After what he did to Ira—remember Ira? My photographer friend who did Philharmonic’s headshots?”
“Yeah. Haven’t seen her in a while, though.”
“She’s based in Canada now. Anyway...” A few clicks on the mouse and Datu swiveled his chair so that he and Pio were knee to knee. “Luigi hired Ira for gigs under SFM, an experimental project they were going to pitch to some client. Made Ira work three straight weeks, didn’t pay her a single cent.”
“How’d he get away with that?”
“Well, there was no contract. It was all—lip service.”
“But they were friends, right?”
Datu went back to working on his computer. “As if Luigi cared about friendship. Or loyalty, for that matter.”
Pio blinked. If the guy Audrey dated for ten years wasn’t a jerk just to her but to other people too, what made her want to stay with him? It was almost impossible to believe she missed this kind of behavior or tolerated it. Was she that in love with Luigi Blanco, or was he simply that deceitful?
“Hoy, Pyo—what did you do for SFM?”
“Online campaign for a client.”
“Oh. Good.” Datu nodded, the concern in his face turning to relief. “If Luigi Blanco approaches you and asks you to invest in SFM, say you’re not interested.”
“Invest?”
His kuya shrugged and paused, looking like he was contemplating on his words. Or the scene he was editing. Either way, his lips formed a thin, straight line. That usually meant Pio should listen.
“I’ve heard from a friend who used to work with him that SFM has been barely surviving. They’ve already cut costs here and there, let go of employees under the guise of transferring them to an ‘affiliate’ company.”
“But they just had this lavish company party!”
“Kapritso,” Datu said. “Exactly why Luigi’s losing money. He gets all these expensive new stuff for status, but doesn’t value his people. Frankly, I’m surprised SFM’s still alive. He’s probably running around finding new investors, but he’s burned way too many bridges to land one so easily.”
It was easy to lose Datu to his work, and Pio knew to slip out of his brother’s studio when he felt he had overstayed his welcome. Instead of hanging out with someone who would shush him when he started on a new topic of conversation, Pio decided to go to the kitchen for a drink. On the way there, he bumped into Manang Lagring, mayordoma of the Alvez household. The stout, graying woman yelped in surprise.
“Lagring?” a malambing voice emanated from the kitchen.
Finger pressed to his lips, Pio gestured for Manang to keep quiet.
“N-nothing, ma’am! I thought I saw a mouse.”
“I love you,” Pio whispered and hugged his former nanny. Lagring simply poked him in the rib so he would let go.
The kitchen was bright, clean, and smelled of lemon dishwashing liquid when Pio finally poked his head in. His mother stood by the black marble counter, her back to him, dropping chopped carrots into a blender. He snuck up to her and surprised her with a hug.
“Oh!” Cecilia Alvez turned around abruptly, the initial stunned expression melting into a warm smile when she realized who attack-hugged her. Fine lines appeared at the corners of her eyes, matching the ones Pio wore. Sandwiching her son’s cheeks between her hands, she squished them together until he whined. “When did you get here? I didn’t even know you were coming!”
“Hours ago.” Pio kissed her on the cheek. “Kuya Dats and I were working on something.”
“I see. Are you having dinner here? I cooked mechado yesterday, and there was just too much, so I put the rest in the freezer. I can heat it up for you—let’s have dinner together.”
“Sure! Let me get the mechado...”
Pio released his mom from the hug and went to retrieve the dish from the fridge. He wasn’t hungry yet, but the queen of the castle seemed to be in high spirits, and that was always a good reason to stay.
“How are you doing? It’s like I haven’t seen you in ages! Did Datu tell you Isagani brought a girl here over the weekend?”
Aha, he thought, So there was a reason behind this extra vibrant energy. When Isagani hit thirty, Cecilia started badgering all of her sons to date and marry and give her grandchildren. A tall order, given how none of them seemed keen on being in a relationship at the moment.
Pio chuckled to himself while listening to his mom’s story and placing a few big spoonfuls of the pork stew into a microwaveable bowl. He made sure to scoop a relatively equal amount of pork slices, potatoes, peas, and bell peppers before depositing the dish into the oven.
“And? What did Kuya Gani say? Is she a girlfriend?”
“Hay naku! Your kuya is even more showbiz than you!” The frustration in Cecilia’s voice was so evident, Pio couldn’t help but laugh. “But I feel like he lied to me so I won’t nag him about getting married.”
“Just let him be, Ma. It hasn’t been long since Rebecca broke up with him. Maybe he’s still testing the waters with someone new.”
Cecilia clicked her tongue. “Why is it taking so long for you boys to settle down?”
“I just turned twenty-four, Ma!”
“I got married at twenty-four!”
Well, that was a great idea, Pio almost blurted out when he opened his mouth to protest. Instead, he let his jaw hang for a second before conceding—“Fine. You win.”—and taking the bowl of mechado out of the microwave when it was ready. Their family crisis might have been “settled” a long time ago, but a careless remark like that could still carry some venom. He wasn’t keen on finding out just how much it would sting. Not today.
“So—when are you bringing a girl home to meet me?” Cecilia asked, placing a spoon and fork neatly on the center of each plate she laid on the table.
Audrey entered his mind in a snap, which was ridiculous given their faux-relationship setup. Meeting her family was still part of the act, but Audrey meeting his mom? That would be a different story altogether.
“Are you really not seeing anyone? Don’t lie to me, Jaime Pio...I can see stars in your eyes.”
A sigh. No matter how far and in between these mother-son conversations have become, Cecilia Alvez still had it in her. That instinct, that gut feeling that her son was not being completely honest. There might have been times she had pretended not to know of certain things, but Pio knew to give his mother credit for being attentive to their needs, no matter how trivial.
He saw it in the way she would prepare a different version of the same dish for Isagani because he couldn’t stand garlic. He realized it when a first-aid kit magically appeared in Datu’s backpack after getting into a fistfight in high school. He knew it when he came home after an especially bad day and found that the fridge had been stocked with every brand of chocolate he could possibly want.
“Well, there’s this girl.”
“...and?”
“She just got out of a relationship, so...this phase isn’t very ideal.”
Cecilia nodded sagely. “That’s true. But are you willing to wait for her?”
“Maybe? I’m not sure. But I can tell you what I’m sure of, though.”
“Which is?”
“That she’s awesome.”
“Like Erin?”
“Sort of, but different. She is...” he paused and tried to think of the right words to describe Audrey. Beautiful wasn’t going to cut it. Competent sounded so technical. And he couldn’t very well mention that she was good in bed. He was open to his mom about a lot of things, but not that. “She’s great at what she does. A no-fuss, no-frills kind of girl who gets things done. But she’s also fun and warm and family-oriented. And her smile. It’s one of the most beautiful things about her.”
“Oh my. This sounds like Erin 2.0.”
“Does it?” Pio cringed. “I may need a cure.”
“Well…” Cecil
ia patted his cheek. “If things don’t go the way you want them to, you know where to find me.”
FOURTEEN
A udrey regretted agreeing to play by Pio’s rules tonight.
She thought it only fair. After all, everything they’ve done on their dates so far have been what she wanted. Her favorite restaurant, her choice of movie, what musical she liked to see. So when he asked if he could call the shots just once, she said yes.
Frustrated wasn’t a word she would use. No, not when she saw fireworks every time she closed her eyes. And definitely not when every inch of her screamed a resounding “Fuck yes!” in response to no question in particular. Honestly, she wasn’t coherent enough to find an appropriate word to describe what she was feeling. All she knew was that she already climaxed twice—shit, thrice—and the only weapons Pio have wielded from his arsenal were his fingers and tongue.
He was also still fully clothed, which was just unfair.
“Pio, I swear to god, if you don’t—”
His lips were quick to interrupt her, collecting the words from her mouth with each soft kiss. “Patience,” he whispered, the smile on his face almost wicked under this light. Audrey groaned when she felt his hardness press against her through his jeans and she lifted her hips, needing more of that friction.
Pio hissed, clicked his tongue in admonition. His dark eyes challenged her, as though daring her to do that again.
She whimpered. “You’re punishing me, aren’t you?”
“Now why would I do that?”
“Because I rode you like a stallion the first time?”
His laughter roused the butterflies in her stomach, and her response was a chuckle of her own. It had only been a week since they were in bed together, but Audrey had already begun craving for this, the sound of laughter alternating with moans and cries of pleasure. It had been like this with Luigi a long time ago too. She just couldn’t figure out when the fire stopped burning.
Hello—can we not think of Luigi please? That’s just disrespectful.
Pio dipped his head to the crook of her neck, the gentle kiss he left there pulling her back to the present.
“I actually quite liked that,” he admitted, lips brushing against her ear. She turned her head to kiss him, but he drew back and knelt between her legs so he could—finally, thank god!—take his clothes off.
Oh, he was gorgeous and he knew it. Audrey could tell he wasn’t a gym buff like her ex, but he wasn’t a slacker either. Even if Pio wasn’t carved to perfection, his broad shoulders and strong chest were a sight to behold.
“Anyone ever tell you you could be a Safe Sex Ambassador?” she joked, watching him rip open a condom packet like he was playing to a camera.
“I think Shinta Mori’s got that covered, babe.”
“There are other condom brands...babe.”
He hovered over her again, his sinewy arms straining while he steadied himself. Ugh. She wanted a bite. And maybe she would indulge.
“Career decisions later,” Pio mumbled against her lips. “There are more urgent matters.”
Her mind went blank the second she felt him enter her, and each languorous thrust seemed intent on drawing something out of her. A moan, a gasp. Her soul, probably.
He picked up the pace, snaked his arm around her back and hoisted her up, the sudden shift driving him deeper into her. A hint of smugness laced Pio’s smile when she cried out his name, and the only thoughts she could manage were how dare you and more please.
She didn’t have to ask.
“You’ve had an awful lot of meetings this week,” she pointed out, hand splayed carelessly over his chest. A couple of things they planned to do either had to get canceled or moved because Pio had to attend to some sudden appointments. Audrey wished she could say she didn’t mind. After all, she was only borrowing Pio’s time. But she was starting to crave his company, and she felt a little sad every time he couldn’t make it.
“Yeah. I’ve been looking for work.”
“Any luck?”
“Just some auditions, screen tests, all that stuff. No callbacks or contracts just yet.”
Audrey let her fingers walk up to his collarbone and trace over a mark she left there. “Don’t worry too much about it. You’re a fine actor and a consummate professional. They’d be missing out if they don’t cast you.”
“Awww.” Pio exaggerated a touched expression, jutting his lower lip out. He ran a hand over her hair. “My fake girlfriend is so supportive!”
“Only because I have a talented fake boyfriend.”
“And which talents are we talking about here?” The way he waggled his eyebrows made her laugh.
“The ones for public consumption, Mr. Alvez!” she replied, shoving his face away when he attempted to kiss her. “Seriously, I did some research and found your old teleserye on iFlix. You’re good, Pio. You’re definitely someone who can hold his own among the industry greats.”
“Oooh, somebody’s doing research!”
“Shut up.” Audrey pulled a face and turned around, smothering the smile she tried to conceal with a pillow. That smelled of Pio. How wonderful.
“Hey.” She felt his lips graze over her shoulder. “I was kidding.”
“I know.”
“Then why’d you turn away? I wanna see your face.”
“I’m exhausted. Go nap.”
As she closed her eyes, Audrey felt Pio’s arm slide across her waist, palm settling gently over her belly. Inching closer, he pressed his body flush against hers and pulled a thick lock of hair away from her neck. “Thanks, by the way,” he whispered, his voice sounding much delicate, almost fragile. “I needed that.”
Perhaps he saw the question in her eyes when she turned to look at him because he quickly added, “Not talking about the sex. I meant the words of encouragement.”
Something about the way he uttered those words sparked her curiosity. Audrey always saw a self-assured young man in Pio Alvez, but now it was apparent he had been nursing insecurities of his own too.
“Never thought you needed any reassurance, but you’re welcome,” she said, collecting a stray eyelash from under his left eye. “If you need help practicing lines for auditions, just let me know.”
He turned his face slightly, kissed the palm of her hand, and smiled. It was the first time she saw this one. Soft and vulnerable, without any trace of mischief.
“You’d do that for me?”
“A girlfriend’s gotta do what a girlfriend’s gotta do. Fake or not.”
Audrey closed her eyes as Pio’s lips descended on hers, tender and luscious, kissing her like it was the only form of communication known to man. And he had a million things to say.
FIFTEEN
O ne week later
At three p.m. on a Wednesday, the newly opened wine bar in the heart of Makati was relatively quiet, with only a handful of patrons occupying the rustic wood and wrought iron tables. Because Pio skipped lunch for an audition nearby, he went ahead and ordered some tapas and a bottle of Merlot while waiting for Cleo. His handler had called him last night and told him to meet her here because she had good news.
His phone buzzed when a text from Audrey came in.
AUDREY: Was in a meeting when you called.
So? Is it the contract you’ve been waiting for?
PIO: I don’t know yet. But I hope so!
AUDREY: I need my hands to edit something right now, so I’ll just cross my toes for you.
PIO: That’s more than enough.
AUDREY: If it doesn’t turn out well, we can always do some more rehearsals.
After dinner and a few drinks, of course.
Pio’s lips curled up into a smile at the mention of rehearsals. Each night for the past week, Audrey helped him run though some lines and pick out nice audition monologues. With nothing but a flimsy shirt on. Or a blanket draped over her chest.
Best. Rehearsals. Ever.
He was still wearing that smile when a figure in a gray jumpsuit hovere
d over him. “What’s so funny, P?”
One of Cleo’s eyebrows was raised, but she had on a teasing smile. Behind her was Queenie, one of the representatives for Juxtapose Pictures. To say that Pio’s heart leapt with anticipation upon seeing them was an understatement.
After getting the pleasantries out of the way, Queenie pulled out a long brown envelope from her bag and slid it over to Pio’s side of the table. “Tito Chinggoy wants you to join his latest project,” she said. “The contract is yours to review with Cleo and your management, but I’m sure you will find the terms satisfactory.”
Wasting no time, Pio browsed the document, his skin tingling with excitement. Finally, all the networking and table reads and screen tests have paid off. “Thank you so much, Queenie. Please tell Tito Chinggoy...” He paused mid-sentence when Queenie reached across the table and left a small, black and silver item by his hand. A car key at the end of a keychain embossed with the Audi logo.
“Tito Chinggoy wanted you to have this. It’s a gift.”
His heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he exchanged glances with Cleo, who appeared as baffled as he was. He was a fledgling in this industry, but Pio had heard enough inside stories to have an inkling of what this gift entailed. After all, it was an open secret that former film director and now Juxtapose Pictures owner Chinggoy Bartolome sometimes acted as a benefactor to a few young actors looking to break through showbusiness.
He didn’t expect this sort of thing to happen. This wasn’t his end goal.
“I don’t understand,” he began, letting go of the documents he was perusing. “I was under the impression you’re signing me up because you believed I was a fit for this role.”
“Of course, Pio. We do. But Tito Chinggoy wants to take care of you and help you become a bigger star. You know it’s always a good thing to have a backer in this industry. There’s no such thing as too many connections…”
“Queenie, that’s enough.” Cleo’s tone was clipped when she spoke. “Pio isn’t comfortable with this arrangement. This wasn’t what we talked about on the phone earlier.”
