Taming Romeo (19 page)

“Hey, I’m not the only one who got lucky last night. Looks like all my sisters got some too.” He doubles over, laughing.

Genie blushes while Choco shakes her fists, vehemently proclaiming her innocence. I follow her back to her room and slide in before she can slam the door.

“Are you, like, with Carlos? How come you didn’t tell me?”

“Genie’s making a big deal out of nothing.” She opens the closet and flips through her dresses. “We have to get ready for the benefit. I’m going to be hosting tonight, but you’re supposed to be sitting at the table with the big donors.”

This is a surprise to me. “I thought I’d just remain in the background and waitress. It’s Romeo’s show and I don’t want to distract him.”

She whirls around to face me. “You mean he didn’t buy you a plate?”

“Uh, at least I don’t think so. They go for a thousand dollars.”

“Oops.” She claps her hand over her mouth. “It might be a surprise. You think? Maybe he’s planning on like I don’t know, doing something special?”

Happiness bubbles over me. Romeo was nervous this morning and apologetic about hurrying out of the cabin. What if he bought me something too?

“What a coincidence,” I squeal. “I bought him a ring this morning.”

“You did? Let me see.” Choco clutches my arm. “Are you two in love?”

“Yes, he told me in the hot tub. It was so romantic.” I scramble to pull the ring out of my purse.

“It’s gorgeous.” She turns it in the light. “He’s going to love it.”

“I hope so. The salesman made fun of me, but the saleslady said it’ll go over well.”

Choco gives it back to me. “I always knew he loved you. What none of us could figure out was whether you were ready for it.”

“Oh, I’m more than ready for Romeo. I’m going to go back to Harvard, pass my anatomy exam, and see if his mother can get me that transfer to UC San Diego.” I hold the ring in front of me and twirl around. “How does Mrs. Romeo García sound to you?”

I arrive at Barrio XO a half hour late. A row of limos take up all the parking spaces, including Papa’s reserved spot. Papa calls Carlos to move his car to a garage and escorts Mama, me, and Tita Elena into the building.

The ride over was awkward because I didn’t know how much Romeo had told his mother about our relationship, so I played it cool and told her I was returning to Harvard. It was better not to mention the transfer to UC San Diego until it was actually approved because my father would go ballistic to learn I’d give up Harvard for Romeo.

The entire restaurant teems with people dressed in evening wear, men in tuxedos and women in fancy gowns. I’m beginning to feel underdressed in a simple ivory-colored María Clara dress with an embroidered shawl tied around my shoulders and a single strand of pearls around my neck.

A tall blonde in a sparkly black evening gown greets us. “I’m standing in for the hostess tonight. May I have your names?”

I turn to Papa. “Where’s Choco? I thought she’s hosting.”

“Not feeling well. Danny’s driving her home.” He clears his throat and addresses the greeter, “I’m Rey Sánchez, owner of this restaurant and this is my wife, Anna, my friend, Madam Elena García, and my daughter, Miss Evie Sánchez.”

She peers at a clipboard. “Oh, I’m sorry. They didn’t brief me. You know. Last minute. I’m Carlos’ friend. Let’s see, Mr. and Mrs. Sánchez, you two are in the
bangus
room, and Mrs. García and Miss Sánchez, you’re in the
kare-kare
room in front of the stage.”

“We’ll find our own place setting,” my father says, his arm around my mother.

“Okay, great,” Carlos’ friend says. “You two follow me. I think the rest of the table is seated already.”

“I’m surprised Romeo didn’t wait out here for us,” Tita Elena says as we walk through the patio. “So, what’s going on between you two? He’s very evasive and that’s not like him.”

“He’s probably shy.” I try to hide a smile because I’m sure Romeo wants to surprise his mother. Maybe after I give him the ring, he’ll let her in on our commitment.

“Shy? Tell me, how do you feel about him?”

“Put it this way, I hope you can get me the transfer. He’s very special to me.” It’s easier to admit my feelings to Tita Elena without the scrutiny of my parents.

She squeezes my arm. “I’m very happy. You’ll be good for him.”

“Thank you, Tita.” I bask in the warmth of her approval.

A waiter holds the door of the
kare-kare
room open. Romeo is pacing on the stage arguing with a gray-haired man.

I wave at him, but my smile freezes on my face. He turns away from me and furiously flips through the sheets of paper in his hand, pointing things to the man he’s talking to.

Did he not see me, or is he so stressed he couldn’t even smile at his mother? A douse of cold water pours over my shoulders. What if he’s upset that I’m talking to his mother, worried I might have told her about his declaration of love?

“Right this way, Mrs. García,” the blonde says, “You’re at table two, next to Mr. García.”

A waiter pulls a chair for Tita Elena. I glance at the place cards for my name, but the hostess says, “You’re at table one. Come this way.”

We take two steps and I spot him. Eric.

“No, no, can’t be.”

The blonde wrinkles her brow. “That’s the head table where the sponsors are. Those are five thousand dollar seats.”

Eric stands and makes his way over. A roaring noise rushes through my head, and the blonde’s chatter grows distant. I stagger back, but someone catches me.

“I’m not feeling well. I think I’m going to be sick.” Black dots swirl around me like pesky flies. I press a finger to my pulse point and gasp for breath. Everything spins and a whirlwind of stereophonic sound crashes like cymbals in my brain.

A set of arms wraps around me, and I’m placed in a chair. Someone fans the air and slips a glass of ice water to my lips. Voices murmur around me, and eyes slanted with concern peer at me. Dark eyes, the color of the night sky under stormy eyebrows.

“Lina, I should have called, but I was afraid you wouldn’t see me.” Eric is on his knees in front of me. “Forgive me?”

“No, no. You can’t be here. Can’t. I don’t believe it.” Nausea gushes from my belly. I glance wildly for Romeo, but his back is turned and he’s talking to his mother, who’s fanning herself and shaking her head.

Never in my worst nightmare have I imagined this calamity. Not only is Eric here, but his parents and sister are also sitting at the table. They stare at me with worried looks on their faces, whispering to each other.

I shut my eyes and lower my face to my hands. Eric’s parents obviously paid for my seat and they would lose face if I refused to sit with them. I need to pull myself together and get word to Romeo, explain to him that they ambushed me. He’ll understand I had nothing to do with this.

Eric’s arm closes around me. “I’ll make it up to you if it takes the rest of my life.”

“You hurt me. What did I do to deserve it?” I’m biting my lips really hard to keep the tears from coming.

“It wasn’t you. I couldn’t face you.”

Bitterness seeps into my gut and my throat tightens. “Is there someone else?”

“No. I failed.” His voice is choked. “I didn’t match.”

He’s talking about the internship match where hospitals select their new interns for the upcoming year.

“You didn’t? I thought you were starting at BU for internal medicine.” Stupid me, I stalk his Facebook.

“I was unmatched, so a hospital in Kentucky picked me up. My dad pulled strings, but I didn’t know if I could stay in Boston until this week when BU offered me a spot.”

I snap my head up and glare at him. “That was it? You couldn’t tell me? You put me through hell because you were unmatched?”

“Shh… lower your voice. I said I’m sorry.”

I feel like slapping him, but one look around tells me I should behave. Romeo’s mother has her eyes fixed on me and Eric’s parents are likewise looking grim.

Faking a smile, I stand and shake hands with Eric’s sister, Marisa, and then his mother, Dr. Charlotte Shen, and his father, Dr. Chong-Wei Shen. “It’s good seeing you. How was the trip?”

They reply with pleasantries and introduce me to the rest of the table: the trustees of the foundation, the family of the founder, and the mayor of San Diego.

The master of ceremonies taps the microphone and launches into the welcome on behalf of Warspring International, an umbrella organization collecting funds to aid organizations helping children displaced by war. A slide show gives the history of the organization and tells of the woman who set it up. I sort of zone out, my gaze resting on Romeo who has positioned himself next to his mother in a way that his back is turned to me.

Stealthily, I slip my cell phone from my purse and text him:
I know this looks bad, but I had no idea he would be here.

He doesn’t move or act as if he received a text.

I text again:
I thought you invited me. Please don’t be mad. I didn’t call you because I thought it was a surprise.

“Lina, who are you texting?” Eric cups his hand over mine. “You know that’s rude? They’re recording this.”

I swallow hard when I notice the news crews. Of course, if the mayor’s at my table, we must be in the spotlight. I silence the phone and put it back in my purse.

There’s no way I can pay attention to the speeches and enjoy the dinner, but when it’s time for Romeo to sing, I again wish for the hole in the ground. He launches into a medley of popular hits, walking around the room and engaging the audience while studiously ignoring my presence. When he gets to my table, he greets the mayor and the founder’s family and even asks Eric’s sister if she’s enjoying the show. But he avoids eye contact with me, and Eric compounds matters by sitting close to me with his arm over the back of my chair.

Either Eric really doesn’t know who Romeo is, or he’s acting as if he’s won and Romeo has lost. I don’t know how much more I can take, but Romeo is working the crowd and people are singing along and dancing between the tables.

The servers clear the table and place dessert trays on the serving stands. Maybe I can sneak to the bathroom while everyone is pigging out on the
turon
,
halo-halo, buko pandan
,
flan
and other goodies. Out of the side of my eye, I see Carlos and the crew wheeling out the dreaded karaoke machine.

I tip back the champagne glass and prepare to dash for the bathroom. Eric is speaking to the master of ceremonies. Romeo is singing a song to his mother and charming the ladies at her table. The two doctors Shen are engrossed in conversation with the mayor and trustee, and Eric’s sister looks bored, her fingers tapping on the tablecloth as she mentally practices piano.

Two quick steps and I’m up. I clutch my shawl and dash for the door. But when I reach it, my parents are coming in along with the guests from the other rooms.

“Where are you going? The karaoke party’s starting,” my father says, grinning.

Mama is all bubbly too, no doubt from too much champagne. “Come on, Evie. Let’s do the first song. Family style.”

“No, really. I have to pee.” I sidestep them, but Eric corners me.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“Powder room. I have to freshen up.”

“I’ll walk you there.” He offers me his arm.

“I know the way. It’s my family’s restaurant.”

“Great, then I’ll follow you. I have to go too.”

I scurry to the women’s room and shut the door. After using the toilet, I extract my phone and text Romeo:
Can we talk after the concert? Call me.

Several guests stream in and out of the bathroom. I park myself in the corner and stare at my phone. One by one, I read and delete every message I sent Eric. How pathetic I was, begging him to come back. Asking for an explanation. Apologizing even when there was nothing I should apologize about.

The bathroom door opens and Eric’s sister steps in.

“Eric’s looking for you,” she says. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just checking messages.”

“Have you forgiven him? He’s been so worried he got an ulcer.”

“I, uh, I don’t have anything to say.”

She opens her purse and takes out her lipstick. “We all really like you. Can you give him another chance? He’s had a real hard time with not matching. He felt he failed you.”

I swallow a surge of bile and rub my queasy stomach. “Answer me, Marisa. You’ve been with Tim for a year already, right?”

She nods as she touches up her lipstick.

“If you failed a class or couldn’t find a job, wouldn’t you share it with him? Or would you cut him off and say you need a break from the relationship?”

She shifts her gaze to me through the mirror. “It’s different. He’s a man. He has to be the strong one, the one you can look up to. He’s already on his hands and knees coming to you and admitting his faults. Why are you kicking him when he’s down? I thought you loved him.”

“I do, er, I did,” I mutter, my gut clenching. If Eric had come even a week ago, I would have fallen all over myself to go back to him. “I’m sorry. I’m not kicking him. I just don’t feel the same way about him anymore.”

My head is hot and starts to throb between the temples. I take several calming breaths while washing my hands. “Please understand. I would have been there for him to support him and help him if he’d told me, but he cut me off. I can never trust him again.”

She frowns and heads for one of the stalls. “He loves you and wants to marry you. You can’t throw away five years for a single mistake.”

I stomp out of the bathroom and head for the patio. The music is deafening and the air is stuffy. My head swims with a combination of dizziness and pain. Maybe Romeo is taking a break now that the karaoke is in full bloom. I fumble for my phone.

“There you are,” Eric says. “They’re calling for you.”

“Who?” My heart leaps. “Are my parents okay?”

“Come on, you’ll see.” He’s grinning and plants a kiss on my cheek.

“Uh, no. I don’t do karaoke.”

“Don’t worry, someone else will do the singing. The mayor wants to thank your parents.”

“Okay, sure.” I wouldn’t want to miss their moment of honor, no matter how much I wish to disappear. I follow Eric back to the
kare-kare
room.