Sweet Downfall (9 page)

But deep inside, if she would be honest with herself, it wasn’t excitement she was feeling at her impending marriage. She felt like there was a noose hanging over her head.

A noose? Was she crazy? Women would kill to be in her shoes.

Feeling these irrational doubts and fears really worried her. She loved her fiancé and she wanted to feel giddy and happy just like any bride-to-be should be, as happy as she was when she was with–

Dammit! She abruptly halted her thoughts from straying into forbidden territory. She should never compare Jordan to anybody, especially to HIM!

He’s in the country again, shooting his latest Hollywood movie with his gorgeous rumored actress girlfriend…

She slapped the expensive upholstery of the backseat to stop the taunting thoughts. She had a whole new journey unfolding in front of her. A new life. In a few month’s time, she would be a wife and soon after that, a mother. Jordan wanted children right away and she would give him all the kids he wanted.

This was just pre-wedding jitters. Nothing more. Super IT girl will slay bridezilla. She will have a fabulous wedding minus all the drama and she will walk down the isle in her dream Alexander McQueen wedding gown and rock the cathedral.

Her life was nearly perfect.

Angie entered the magnificent lobby
of the newly-renovated, Empress Hotel, the flagship of the Empress Group, the 5-star hotel empire her family had been running for decades now.

The Empress Group used to be a purely private company but the necessity for expansion had forced her father to offer Empress stocks to the public, turning the company into a huge corporation.

The tactical move proved to be very profitable. The last five years had been the best years for the company. Two five star hotels were added to the chain in Hongkong and Indonesia and one was currently being constructed in Thailand.

Competition in the hospitality industry was very tough in Asia. She had to be constantly on her toes, abreast with other high-end hotels and resorts, especially in South East Asia where tourism was on the all-time high in the last decade. The Empress high-end resorts in the western Philippines located within three private islands were world-class. Those paradise islands with their stretches of white sand beaches were favorite vacation hideaways for westerners, frequently visited by Hollywood celebrities and European royalty.

When it came to her job, Angie was obsessive. Perfectionist was a word her staff had admiringly attached to her name from the beginning, but as the years passed, it was no longer in a good light. They couldn’t keep up with her. She demanded only the best performance from her people but the best in her book was not found in the typical one-to-ten rating scale.

When one spent the last eight years of her life proving to her family, especially to her father that she was a true and worthy Yulo, one would develop a controlling attitude. It quickly became a habit.

The elevator took her to the tenth floor.

The moment she alighted from the lift, Betty was on her, as if she had been waiting for her right there at the elevator lobby.

The pretty, chubby and usually cheerful PA looked frantic. “Angie!”

“Good morning, Betty,” she greeted her PA cooly.

“Angie, you have to see something.”

They passed by the vast Marketing and Promotions Department of Empress Group, her domain. She caught the covert glances some of her employees threw her way. “Is something wrong, Betty?” She didn’t like guessing games.

For the first time in their three-year working relationship, Betty grabbed her wrist and practically dragged her inside her office suite. Betty locked the door.

Angie was even more perplexed now. “Betty, what’s wrong?”

“There’s something you need to see.”

“What? Show me!”

Betty gestured to the executive table. Several tabloids were lying there. She frowned. “You know I don’t read those stuff, Betty.”

“Those were brought in by some employees of the hotel.” Betty was twisting her fingers in apparent agitation.

She raised a brow. “And why would they bring tabloids to my office?”

Betty gingerly picked up one tabloid and showed the front page to her. The headline screamed in big bold, red letters, almost dominating half of the entire page.

Angelina Yulo and Jaq Montero in a Sex Video Scandal?!

It didn’t register at first. Why would her name be in a tabloid? With Jaq Montero of all people?

Wait…Sex video?!

She went cold all over.

“Oh my God!” she gasped, her hand on her throat.

Her legs turned to rubber and she grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself. She walked on wobbly legs toward the sofa and dropped on it. Suddenly nauseous, she was afraid she would retch on the carpet. She leaned back and closed her eyes, trying to calm her nerves.

“Angie, are you okay?” she heard Betty ask anxiously.

Okay? Oh God! She didn’t understand. Why would she be in the rags with Joaquim Arkeus Montero, that Hollywood director who was as famous as the actors he directed, at least in this country? She was afraid to read the articles. But she was sure it was bad! Sex video? What sex video?

Jordan! She had to talk to Jordan first before he’d get to see those tabloids!

With shaking hands, she groped for her cellphone inside her bag. She blanched when she saw the screen. 27 miscalls! Mostly from Jordan, her father and brothers! She didn’t hear the rings. She forgot to unmute her phone from last night.

She was afraid to make a call now.

Her phone suddenly vibrated. Terrified, she just stared at it.

The caller was her fiancé.

Today was a holiday in hell.

Jaq was on the phone talking to his company’s publicist. Lulu called him from LA screaming like a banshee she nearly busted his left eardrum. Fuck. Shit traveled fast nowadays. The internet was an uncontrollable monster.

“No, Lulu! I ain’t doing any press conference to deny it! That’s me in the vid. Yeah. I’m sorry. It’s an old, old video....Hey, listen, this is different.... No, I’m not dating her. No…an old girlfriend from way back. I don’t care!...Listen! Relax. You don’t need to issue any statement. I don’t need to talk to the local press either….Just Jared? The fuck? What do they want from me? I’m a fucking director not Justin Bieber! They should leave my ass alone! Alright…alright…I’ll deal with it, okay? I need to go. I’ll call you later.”

He angrily ended the call. “Joey!” he barked.

His PA popped up inside the huge tent. “Geez, man, seems like you’re back to your ol’ bad boy days! They want your ass!” She meant the local paparazzi trying to kill each other to get a piece of him. The security men he’d hired were fending them off. He had no idea the local paparazzi could be as rabid as their western counterparts.

The world was awaiting his next opus as this was a major studio production, especially in this country where Hollywood movies were regular entertainment staple.

On normal shooting days, people flocked to his set like tourists but they didn’t behave like this. Madness! His set quickly turned into a damn circus and he was the main entertainment.

“I think you can make a living as a porn star, cuz,” Joey commented.

Jaq kicked one of the plastic chairs near him, sending it like a missile toward Joey who jumped back in surprise, narrowly missing getting hit.

“Aw, man! A joke, okay?!” she whined.

“Shut the fuck up!” he growled.

She made a face and hunched her shoulders.

He really wanted to kick someone’s butt for real.

Eric Gould, one of his assistant directors entered the tent. “Jaq, I think we need to stop shooting for now. The crowd’s getting unruly.”

Pack-up? That would mean further delay in his schedule and budget spent on nothing. He hoped the studio wouldn’t hear of this. He’d been in all kinds of female shit but he’d never had his ass caught on cam. The irony was not lost to him, too. It was his camera that caught his own ass on cam. Fuck!

A gunshot suddenly cracked the humid air.

He jumped in surprise. “What the hell was that?!”

Screams.

They all ran outside the tent.

People were scattering like ants, running in all directions.

“Holy shit! Is somebody dead?” Joey croaked.

They ran toward the center of the commotion.

He saw one of the security men holding a gun upright. “I said the set is closed right now!” the guard shouted at the throng of paparazzi. “You’re trespassing!”

“We just want to talk to Jaq! You have no right to stop us! We’re just doing our job!” shouted one reporter.

“Jaq is very busy!” the guard shouted back.

“We will write about this!” threatened another paparazzo. “This is harassment!”

Jaq cussed under his breath. This was getting more fucked up by the minute.

When they saw him, the hounds went wild again, as if he was the last meal they would have on earth. His first words regarding the ‘scandal’ must cost a fucking fortune. The scene before him looked surreal.

Jesus, what did this people want from him? He may be a highly-paid Hollywood director now but he was no longer the rock star the local kids used to idolize. His Oblivion days were long gone. His life was behind the camera now. Sure, he still dated actresses and models from both sides of the Pacific, but even that had not caused this kind of mass hysteria.

It must be Angie causing all this extreme curiosity. She was the one who was famous now and that fiance of hers who owned the biggest television network in this country.

“Jaq, what do we do now?” asked one of the security men. “We can’t fend them off for much longer. We may resort to force...” His voice trailed off nervously.

Jaq exhaled sharply. “Call the local police.”

The man saluted and jogged away.

Having no choice, he finally shouted to his crew nearby, “Pack up!” He cursed his way back to his tent while his men scampered to do his bidding.

Managing a set this huge was hard work. It was a movie that had scenes taken in a real location and not within a studio where environment can be controlled. They were in the open and it was hard to cordon the set and prevent spectators from disrupting the shooting.

Now the paparazzi were here. These were a different breed of nuisance.

He grabbed a cold bottle of mineral water from the cooler and downed it until it was empty.

Joey stuck her head inside the tent again. “Cuz, the bitches are asking what’s going on.”

Joey collectively referred to the male actors of his movies ‘bitches’ because according to her, they were all pussies anyway, only in different clothing. Joey was right, at least in this particular cast, with the exception of Romjin, one of the supporting actors, The muscle-bound extras he’d hired to act as warriors in this movie were all swag (Secretly We Are Gay), but he preferred to call them ‘happy’ people, literally and figuratively. Living the best of both worlds should make anyone happy, right?

“Tell them to rest at the hotel for now. We’ll resume tomorrow.”

His actors were billeted at a 5-star hotel within a high-end resort around the area.

Joey disappeared.

Jaq dropped his bulk on a chair and massaged his forehead. What the fuck should he do now? After Joey slammed those tabloids in his face this morning, he went about his business. Today’s schedule was full of difficult stunts and he needed natural daylight. But not sooner than his crew started setting up the shoot, people arrived in droves, along with the paparazzi. Mayhem followed.

The video. He had to check his house. Shit!

He jumped back on his feet and gathered his important stuff.

Someone called out from the outside.

“Come in.”

Gwenna entered the tent. “Jaq, are you okay?”

He nodded and slung the backpack on his shoulder.

“Where are you going?”

“Just gonna check on something.”

“Can I come?”

Her eyes were telling him she wanted to come another way but even a promise of a wild nooner from the sexy starlet couldn’t cheer him up today. “Sorry, sugar. I need to attend to something. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She pouted. “Is this about that video?” she pressed.

“Gwennie…”

“Who is she? An old girlfriend of yours?”

He didn’t like her questions. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You’re not going to her, are you?”

He speared her with a serious look. “You should be concerned about your acting, sweetheart. It’s more important to me than those nonsense.”

She smiled, licking her lips, touching his denim-clad hip suggestively. “Can I treat you to something delicious before your go? You won’t have to do anything. Just lie down and enjoy.”

Christ, the woman was a blow job junkie! On another occasion, he would have been her willing fix, but not today. Today, he needed to fix something. Fast!

He kissed her cheek. “Take a rest. We’ll be busy tomorrow. I’ll see you then, okay?”