Harmon raised a brow.“Everything all right?”he asked, looking at her, puzzled.
Sal straightened her back and cleared her throat.“Whatever this was, it wasnota conversation.A good conversation is a meeting of minds.It’s two people exchanging ideas, and they come out of it feeling nourished, not drained.”
“Do you feel drained now?Because I don’t.”
Come to think of it, she didn’t feel drained.If anything, she felt energized.Sal frowned and searched his expression for anything taunting or sarcastic.He looked as if he truly meant it.
“But I disagree.”He leaned against the bar but didn’t break eye contact.“A conversation—a deep one—involves two people willing to share their vulnerabilities and flaws without judgment.There is room for discourse and space to accept differences.It’s impossible to always have ameeting of the minds.The ones that accept that end up being not just good conversationalists, but good company.The kind that challenges you to see things through a different lens.”
“Did you just compliment me?”
Harmon’s broad shoulders squared while he reached for his wallet as the server approached them with their bill.From the corner of Sal’s eye, he seemed like he was holding back a smile.“Maybe,” he muttered coolly and turned to her, and for the first time since she had met him, he smiled a joyous smile that showed his two perfect dimples.
Sal couldn’t help but feel something.Her heart, if it ever felt cold toward him, began to thaw.
***
“Mr.Moon said I have to make sure you got back safely, ma’am,” the driver said while keeping his eyes on the road.His English was heavily accented, and he was very polite; he said hispo’sandopo’seven if he was older than Sal, and kept a genuinely kind smile on his face the entire time he would speak with her.
“Then let’s stop over at the mall first.I need to buy something before I head back home, if that’s okay?”If she was being lent his driver, she might as well take advantage of the free service.
“Opo, I can wait for you, ma’am.”
The driver dropped her off at the mall nearest her flat, and she bought a mid-grade Android phone she had looked at online and went on her way.The phone was light and felt like a chocolate bar in her hands.She held it closely in her bag as she got out of the car and picked up her groceries from the back.Harmon’s driver assisted her to the front door of the unit.
When Sal knocked, she heard tepid footsteps approaching, a loud clank of locks opening, and soon, Willow emerged, her red hair a wild mess.“You took longer than I thought,” her friend said.
“Thanks!”Sal said to Harmon’s driver as they relieved him of the groceries.
“It’s five p.m.; I thought for sure you’d be back for lunch.Were you able to get your new phone?”Willow asked as she carried the grocery bags.
Sal took off her cardigan and dropped her tote bag on the carpeted floor.“Yeah, I still have to set it up though,” she sighed as she placed the groceries in the kitchenette and started unpacking them.
Just then, they heard a knock.
Willow frowned and walked over to the door, looking through the peephole.“It’s the driver.”She looked over her shoulder, and when Sal offered her an indifferent nod, she opened it.
“Sorry, Mr.Moon said I give this…” he said rather hurriedly.“I have to go, ma’am.”He seemed to have pushed something into Willow’s arms and left quickly.
“What was it?”
Willow shut the door and locked it.“It’s for you,” she said, holding a shopping bag, and placed it on the coffee table near the sofa bed.
“It’s from Harmon?”Sal asked, leaving the groceries and walking over to the package.
“Apparently?”Willow shrugged and moved over to the kitchenette to continue unpacking what Sal had left.
Sal inspected the shopping bag; it was from a well-known department store in the Philippines that offered mid-range to luxury goods.Upon opening it, she saw a box with a brand she was familiar with but had never owned.She opened the box and softly gasped.It was a beautiful black leather shoulder bag, not unlike her own.
When did he get this?And why?He shouldn’t have.
She placed her hands tentatively on her lap, hesitant to touch it.But then she saw a note sandwiched on the side of the wrapping paper.Without thinking, she took it, wondering if Harmon had written anything on it.In small, neat handwriting, it said:
We’re even now.
- Your rival
Sal closed the small note and felt a warmth rise from her cheeks to her ears when she remembered his statement: “To say we are rivals is to say we are equals.”Did he think of her as his equal now?
