This Crazy Rich Boy

There's something about taking long walks that seems to have a positive effect on the mind. When she was a child, back in the farmland her parents ran, taking long walks was a luxury—there were always a lot of things to do: cows to milk, chickens and turkeys to feed, long plots of different vegetables and fruit orchards to tend and water. But even so they never had complicated problems back then—usually it was the financial kind, which could be solved by selling off a few cattle heads, or turkeys.

This, however, is different. Claire has never had "boy problems" of this magnitude before. Men liked her, but those were ordinary men, whose entire gamut of concerns usually fell along the lines of where to look for temporary jobs, or what Playstation game they should play. There were no men like Gabriel and Miguel, whose men decisions can affect tens of thousands of other men. And sometimes, when those facts sink in, Claire couldn't help but get her mind blown.

She feels a bit guilty as she walks the road, which she realizes now is heading toward Central Park. Gabriel would be bewildered not finding her there. She hopes Dale would reassure him enough to relax and proceed with the lunch date with his brother. But still, Gab will talk about her with Miguel, and she could only imagine what Miguel would think. Would he be alarmed? Would he think her sudden disappearance means she's up to something? Let Miguel's own personal demons taunt him. The crazier he gets, the better.

The previously sunshiny morning has become overcast, the sky translucent with long swathes of gray. And yet, there are many people in the park: teenaged girls on roller blades, middle-aged men jogging, kids playing Frisbee, dogs and their owners in some sort of a gathering in the middle of the clearing. In the corners, pop-up stalls selling sandwiches (the "sisig" burgers seemed a huge hit, based on the long queues), artisanal ice cream and coffee, and cotton candy. The atmosphere is festive, and Claire wonders why she never even tried to spend time here before? She was always looking for work, or enduring her former roommates' endless prattle.

She's looking around as she walks among the crowd. Having grown up in a farm, she's naturally attracted to the crowd of people with all the dogs. She just stands there, gawping at the lovable furbabies. The human owners are chatting among themselves, letting their dogs play. Claire is content just watching them; for a moment, she forgets all her problems. She sits down on a wooden bench nearby, just under the shade of a leafy tree, offering a good view of the whole park. She looks at her watch and realizes Gabriel must be at The Residence by now; he's probably irritated, his temper, as usual, getting past him. But she knows him—he'd get over it for the sake of his brother, for their scheduled lunch. He'll make up an excuse why Claire's not coming over. There's a price to pay later, tonight, when she gets home and finds him waiting in her suite. Maybe by then she really has to face the music.

She feels something tickling her left toe. She looks down and squeals in joy—it's an adorable little Labrador puppy, the color of dark chocolate. Its yellow eyes meet hers, and it gets even more excited, wagging its tail frantically, making little barks. Claire picks it up and enfolds it in her arms, making baby talk to it. "Where's your mom, you poor little cute thing?"

"She's the runt," a hoarse voice says from behind them. It's an old man, his hair completely white, holding what is presumably the puppy's leash.

"Oh," Claire says, even kissing the puppy on the forehead. "You're the last of them, aren't you?" She turns to the old man. "What's her name?"

He shrugs. "Haven't named her. I thought the one who adopts her should get to name her."

"You mean she's up for adoption?"

The man sheepishly scratches his head. "To be honest, I'm here to try and sell her."

"How much?" Claire says without batting an eyelash.

"Up to you. How much do you think she's worth?"

Claire stops and looks at the puppy, which seems to "get" what the transaction is about and begins ŀɨċkɨnġ her face, mewling. Claire giggles. Then she says an amount to the old man. If only she was looking, she would have seen how the old man's eyes light up when she said the amount. And yet, he even haggled for more. But Claire, so smitten by the puppy by now, quickly agrees, even giving the man more money than he asked for.

The man promptly disappears after getting paid, leaving Claire and the puppy on that bench under the tree. But Claire doesn't mind; there's something about the puppy that makes her suddenly homesick. She missed the feeling of being in the farm, so far away from the stresses of city life and the complications of falling in love with someone like Gabriel Tan.

"So what do we call you? How do you like 'Ruby'?"

The puppy doesn't react. She's looking at her face intently, as if waiting.

"You don't like it? How about 'Misty'?"

The puppy still doesn't react.

Claire looks around, looking for name inspiration. Then she sees a German shepherd playing with a poodle. "Oh, how about 'Sam'? For 'Samantha'? From the movie 'I Am Legend'? Would you like that?"

For some reason, the puppy makes her little barks and wags her tail frantically, reaching out to Claire's face to lick it. Claire lets her; how she missed the smell of "puppy breath." It has always reminded her of new beginnings. "We'll call you Sam, then, my little baby."

---

It's already late in the afternoon when Claire returns to The Residence with one big bag of pet accessories in one arm, and Sam on the other. Everyone is so surprised upon seeing her.

"Oh my God, is it going to live here?" Dale exclaims. "What's its name?"

"It's a 'she', and her name's Sam," Claire says. "And she's going to live here for the rest of her life."

Sam barks in ȧssent.

"How adorable!" Dale says, before his face quickly changes. "But a storm brews on the horizon, Miss Claire."

"Where is he?" she says.

"In your suite," Dale says softly. "And not in the best of moods, Ma'am. I'm not sure if it's wise to bring the puppy in there."

Claire sighs. "I won't hide Sam from him. She's mine. He can't touch her."

"But it might—"

"—and it might not," Claire says. "Don't worry, Dale, I'll talk to Gab. I need to settle something here."

She hands him the bag of pet accessories, which Dale examines promptly, delighted to see a few squeaky toys for the dog. Then with Sam hugging her ċhėst, Claire proceeds to her suite. In the elevator, Sam mewls, like she's afraid, too. But Claire steels her resolve. There are a couple of things she must discuss finally with Gabriel, and the least of her concerns is how he'd react to her bringing a dog, a lifelong responsibility, to this uncertain situation. Miguel is the damned elephant in the room, and that must be addressed first and foremost.

But she has to admit that she feels a slight trembling as her finger pressed the buzzer, as she hears somebody inside get off the sofa and walk, with heavy, seemingly angry footfalls towards the door. Gabriel must have been stewing for hours, angry for not being able to reach her right when he needed answers the most. She can't blame him. She'll calmly take what he could give.

But when the door opens and Gabriel sees the dog in Claire's arms, his face lights up, like a kid who has just opened his Christmas present. "Oh, my God, you've bought me a puppy?" he says, excitedly snatching the dog from her, showering the dog with kisses. "Oh, my God, what a cute little baby!"

Claire stands there, her mouth hanging open, unsure of what's happening.