BEYOND THE FRAY II

Outside the hotel, Pamela seemed flustered. She was exhausted from the chasing and felt the urge to stop. Maybe she was being overly obsessive? She was she, after all. Pamela Camille Renfrew. She was one of the best models in the States, and here she was chasing after this billionaire who didn't want to have anything with her. But she had been kind, loving, and sweet during their relationship yet he never gave her the closure to move on when he texted her one morning on how; “He couldn't handle the relationship anymore and how she had to understand.”

She'd flown to Miami from Johannesburg the next day, wanting to have a word with him, give him a piece of her mind. Maybe she had given it a little too much because she'd broken a wine bottle on his head, which shattered into bits and pieces and left Gregorio bleeding. After she'd noticed the blood, she'd fallen to the floor and cried, bawling her eyes out, her throat burning, pleading not to be left alone because she wouldn't be able to survive without him in her life.

Ever since, he had been avoiding her like a plague. Like that moment.

“Greg! Greg!” she was screaming now, pained beyond explanation. “Come back here you son a bitch!”

Gregorio didn't intend to stop, instead, he was chuckling, finding the chase amusing, somewhat fun. Just as he reached the swimming pool area, he found the petite young woman he had been staring at from his room window. She was standing at the edge of the pool, taking a nonending swig out of a bottle of Jack Daniels. Greg wasn't the one to judge but also wasn't the one to drink.

When he was eighteen, he had gotten two bottles as a gift for his brother, but decided to keep one for himself and had gotten a bit carried away. It was fun at first, but then the whole room started spinning around so fast, that even with his eyes closed he felt like he was constantly moving.

He'd vomited the whole night, slipped on his vomit, and fractured his elbow in the process. He spent the whole morning trying to clean up his broken ankle before anyone noticed, but the smell and the chunks of food everywhere made him throw up again and Gideon had found him, very sick and hurt. He grabbed the alcohol bottle from the unsuspecting young lady and hid it behind him. And then grabbed her left arm as she swayed dizzily on her feet, almost landing into the pool in the process, and pulled her into him so that his arm was around her slim waist.

“Play along,” he whispered. “In a few minutes, it'll be over. Just help me this one time and I'll be indebted forever.”

Elizabeth's eyes widened, and then she squirmed to get away from this unfamiliar man who was holding her in a way she wasn't quite comfortable with. She couldn't exactly move because he was holding onto her a little too tightly around the waist. He towered her with height, 6'3 at most, and looking up at him, she could see he looked breathtaking. She had never been in a close range with a man so good-looking in her entire life, that was a fact.

“There's this one person...Oh shit! No time to explain, here she comes!”

A shrill scream pierced the air and the awkwardness enclosed around Elizabeth. Her head shot up and she tried to keep her composure cool, smooth in her gown with her trembling fingers, but the confusion was too evident and to make things worse, she was tipsy from the alcohol.

The feminine figure closed in on them and Elizabeth quickly recognized the lady as the one demanding to see Mr. Gregorio from Holly in the ballroom. “Greg!” she screamed impatiently. “I have been chasing after you through this entire hotel! You're making me chase you! Really?!”

“I never asked to be chased...”

“I just want to talk.”

“I'm not risking bottle shards going into my hair once again.”

“It was a mistake!” Pamela screamed once again but then paused as soon as she noticed the third party. Her slender arms folded over her chest, and she looked over Elizabeth over and over again, as if mentally rating her. The girl seemingly didn't seem comfortable being in the position with the two of them having a conversation which involved Pamela's endless shrill voice screeching against her ears. “And who are you? Why are you standing there? Why...” her eyes widened, reflecting instant jealousy, her voice reduced to a whisper. “Why are you holding her in that manner?”

The question was directed to Gregorio this time. Pamela's face had become beet red. She squeezed her fists and gnawed at her cheeks on the inside, expecting a response.

Greg was enjoying this. “Where are my manners?” His accent was such a playful tune as if he were the star of his movie. “This is—” he paused and shared a look with Elizabeth. He hadn't asked for her name. He didn't know what her name was but studying her features, she looked almost like a Rose. It was a boring name and she did look a little basic, her makeup wasn't out of the ordinary. Even her dress was a simple one and he didn't want to offend her in any manners so he stuck to being romantic instead. “—my woman”

“Woman?” Both women asked in unison. Pamela stared Elizabeth down and then cleared her throat. “How long have you two been together?”

“Three,” Greg gave her waist a little squeeze and she instantly added. “and a half years. We met at Laucala Island, Fiji. I was there on a vacation.”

What was happening to her? Why was she lying so effortlessly? She had never been at any resort to talk less of being on such an expensive island. She had never been out of their town more than once or twice in her life and that was when she was a child. She was a nobody compared to these people. This caliber of people. This party. She didn't want to get tangled and she was already in at this point. The man, Greg, as she'd heard the feisty girl say seemed to be pretty wealthy. Even his cologne smelled so unbelievably rich, the scent was so strong, that she could almost taste it at the back of her throat.

Greg was smiling—no—smirking down at her. Seemingly impressed by the lie. She was a little tipsy from having that first gulp of alcohol, and if this man hadn't taken it from her, maybe she'd be drunk at that moment and be able to push away the shyness and get more into character. She tapped her fingers rhythmically against her temples and sighed dejectedly. “If you don't mind, I—we—have to leave. Whatever is going on, I don't want to know. I'm having a migraine oncoming, I should have just stayed home.” she looked up at Greg briefly. “Babe, can we go somewhere more silent, I need rest.”

“Sure. Anything for a princess.”

Before they could even move, Pamela turned away and began speed walking back in the direction of the entrance of the party. Her heels gave continuous click-clack-click sounds and her shoulders heaved and trembled in frailty as she seemingly suppressed her anger and the urge to cry. Greg eased out of character and let go of Elizabeth's waist, holding onto her forearm to stabilize her stance as she swayed from left to right a little bit.

Elizabeth watched him, saying nothing, her gaze not leaving his face for even a moment. Her lashes curled over her cobalt blue eyes fluttered endlessly and her small love-shaped lips were parted subconsciously revealing two front rabbit-like teeth.

There was a very awkward silence between them. Gregorio revealed her bottle of Jack Daniels from his back, his left arm already cramping slightly. Feeling like he needed to muster some sort of courage to relate with this woman. He took a swig, and then another, and another. It was awfully cold too, and as Elizabeth continued to watch him, she was shuddering in her gown, her frail arms around her shoulders. The cold continued to bite hard against the exposed part of her skin, threatening to send her fingers trembling, almost to the state of numbness. She shuddered uncontrollably, her teeth began to chatter.

Due to the distance of the pool to the hotel building, she could barely make out the sound of the music going off in the hotel's ballroom. The indecipherable sound of festivity loomed in the air overhead, effortlessly reminding them of the fact that they were missing out on a lot and were going to miss out on more. Including the entrance of the Cortez brothers.

“Do you stare a lot?” Greg finally asked. Elizabeth didn't look pleased with him in the slightest bit. “Look...” he made to apologize. “I'm sorry I pulled you into this and made you lie for me.”

“Maybe next time be man enough to tell a woman off your back? Rather than involving strangers?”

He wasn't mad. Instead, he chortled loudly. “I'm sorry, okay?”

Elizabeth ranted now. “That's my problem with rich people, you think you can do as you like and no one can put you in place. What gave you the audacity to come over here—” she practically ripped her drink out of his hand. “—and take my drink from me, and pretend to be my boyfriend. My woman?” she laughed a sultry mocking laugh. She was overreacting, and she knew it. “Who even are you?”

“I'm Greg—”

She waved her free hand. “You know what? I don't want to know.”

“Gregorio—”

“I don't want to know. Better we don't know each other even. You don't know me and I don't know you.” She sighed dejectedly, feeling like she was being too much of an asshole. “I'm. I'm sorry. I'm just kind of off today. I needed an escape from the party and wasn't expecting you or anyone to turn up here. What's the worst that could have happened?”

“You could have gotten too drunk and drowned.”

“That could.”

Greg leaned forward and stepped closer. He had taken off his suit jacket and it was hanging high in his hands, clutched tightly between his fingers. Elizabeth's breath hitched and threatened to get stuck in her throat. He towered over her with his incredibly, amusing height, and carefully draped the piece of soft fabric around her shoulders, his eyes unwavering as they settled on her facial features for a moment too long. Elizabeth's heart pounded hard in her chest. Up close, his features were more effulgent and breathtaking. His tanned skin glowed radiantly beneath the lights surrounding them. His breath smelled of cigarettes. When his fingers lingered on her small shoulders, her insides turned to mush.

Tension zapped through the air and Elizabeth burned with momentary panic, cheeks blazing with thoughts of what he might be thinking in his head, until he pulled away and patted her shoulders twice in assurance as if he knew what she had been thinking. She had been really cold, he had just been really helpful.

Greg hesitated. “Can I know your name at least?”

At least? Because he had offered his jacket? Elizabeth let out a breath she had no idea she was holding in, engulfed by the warmth evading his jacket. “No,” she told him, sternly.

Over them, the dark sky rumbled loudly, like groans of protest and agony. Lightning lit up the starless sky like fireworks that brightened the night into a few seconds semi-day before everywhere went dark again. An unexpected gust of wind from the south slapped against them and caused the thin silk of Elizabeth's gown to dance with the movement of the cold breeze, before finally sticking very closely to her flesh like a second skin, just like Greg's white shirt also did. Stuffed like a life jacket as the air invaded it and then stuck back like a wet, burst balloon to his muscles. His hair, though cut short, toppled out of place and danced about in the air, stray strands of deep brown. The sound of festivity from the hotel's ballroom burst outward with a sudden flurry of activities, and then faded off, gradually into the air overhead, into nothingness.

Elizabeth took a swig from the bottle in her hand and clutched harder at the jacket around her shoulders with the other while resisting to swat the permed strands of hair in her face back in place. Then, she knew she had all of Greg's attention, whether he liked it or not. His lips were pressed into a firm line, his gaze unwavering and just when he opened his mouth to speak, the rain began, unexpectedly.

Greg instinctively looked up at the sky and while he shot that few seconds glance up, Elizabeth had rapidly begun walking away, she had the bottle to her lips, downing its content like it was water. He followed, stubbornly, knowing how severely sick she was going to feel in a few minutes from then.