There he was again, looking down at her.Why did he even bother agreeing to this showdown if he knew he would win?Was it just for his ego?To crush her hopes?No matter how much she tried, she had trouble rectifying that the person seated in front of her, in his pristine linen shirt and perfectly ironed trousers, had such thoughts.But one thing increased her annoyance at him.“And what’s this whole business about you and Claire?You’re obviously lying about your connection with her.”
Harmon frowned.“I’ve traveled all this way to compete with you over a lie?Poe, you need to get more creative if you’re convincing yourself that I’m in the wrong here.”
The server finally arrived with their orders and placed their bowls in front of them.Steam rose from both bowls, and the delicious scent of freshly cooked ramen rose into the air.Each bowl had a renge spoon hooked over its rim.Harmon grabbed a pair of chopsticks.He offered her one, which she took.
“But youarein the wrong,” Sal argued.
“That’s subjective,” he said, breaking his chopsticks apart and taking a spoonful of the ramen broth.
“How so?”she asked.
“It might get cold,” he said, slightly waving his chopsticks dismissively.
Sal eyed her dish.The swirls of soy on the creamy base beckoned her to take a spoonful.The only thing worse than eating with a jerk like Harmon was eating cold ramen with a jerk like Harmon.So she grabbed her chopsticks and took a quick slurp.She felt an immediate pang of relief when the salty and smoky broth activated her taste buds.She slurped more, ignoring the world around her.At that moment, it was just her and this rich, salty, savory bowl of creamy shoyu ramen in a small ramen shop in the middle of a busy city.She looked up to breathe and locked eyes with Harmon’s reflection.He was observing her with a soft expression on his face.Immediately, he turned away and buried his face in his ramen bowl.
“Why’d you invite me here?Is it just to poke at my wounds?I know I stepped in a pile of dog shit by meeting you.”As much as she disliked having to butt heads with others, she curiously looked forward to his reaction.Harmon was always so calm and collected.Like nothing could phase him.She wanted to rile him up just once.
Harmon wiped his mouth.“If that’s so, then why did you follow me here?”he asked, looking irreproachable.
She scowled at his haughty expression.“Because a psycho held my groceries hostage and led me here.I’m stuck here in the pouring rain because I have no damn umbrella, and I don’t have a phone to call anyone.”
He let out atut-tut.“Don’t worry.The psycho that led you here is paying for this bill, and will do you the courtesy of getting you a ride to wherever you need to be.”
He was trying to do a charm offensive yet again after continuously offending her.It wouldn’t work.“That’s unnecessary,” she said, slurping more of her ramen before it lost its heat.
“I told you.I can’t have you sick and delaying the entire wager.”
“So then, if you think you aren’t in the wrong, then who is?I can’t be the wrong one here, I’m not the one forcefully taking the property of others.”
“People have their reasons for doing what they do.Mine isn’t wrong or evil,” he said with a tone of frustrating certainty.“But indulge me again.Why did you quit your illustrious career as an oral surgeon in New York?If you won’t tell me why you left the Philippines, tell me why you left New York.”
Sal paused, trying to see the parallels of his reasoning, and granted his request and indulged him with her story.“I pivoted into art because I went into my dental career for all the wrong reasons,” she muttered.
“What reasons?”
Perhaps for someone like Harmon, who had worked so hard to be where he was, her reasons may seem foolish or weak.But that was a story for another day.
“I just couldn’t pretend I was happy anymore,” she mumbled.
Harmon paused for a moment, finished his ramen, and then casually said, “I admire you for starting over, no matter your reasons.”
Sal felt her cheeks grow warm, then set her chopsticks down and burped into a napkin.She was done with her dish and done with this date—or whatever this was.“Thanks for the meal.I’ll hail a taxi somewhere.”She prepared to stand.
Harmon lightly grabbed her wrist.
Sal looked back, and in shock, sat back down.
Harmon blushed and cleared his throat.“I’ll ask my driver to take you wherever you need to go.And please, don’t do me any favors anymore,” he said, asking for the bill.By favors, he meant the prescription she wrote that helped him get the meds to cure his assistant’s stomach flu.It wasn’t a favor; that was a power-play.But he didn’t take it that way, apparently.
“I won’t.Not if it means spending another meal with you like this,” Sal said, but as soon as she said it, she felt a pang of regret.He was being nice to her; she shouldn’t be so mean.
He paused and studied her.“Actually…I like having conversations with you.”
Sal’s head snapped so quickly toward him she thought her neck would break.She realized he was serious.A sarcastic laugh came out unexpectedly.“Why?”she asked.
Harmon finished his beer and then gave her a neutral look.“I enjoy conversing with brave people.The tenacious, persevering types, the ones who see the odds and still go for things.They understand what it’s like to reap the rewards of living life outside the rule book.And because they’re like that, they don’t judge others who do the same.”
Sal felt her heart leap at his statement.He thought of her as brave?
