I was startled when I heard my son's voice from behind the sofa. He was poking his head out like he was hiding and peeping at me.
His curious eyes held a hundred unasked questions.
"What are you doing there, baby? Come here..."
"Hush, Momma! We're playing hide and seek, po!" He immediately hid and didn't peek at me anymore.
He really didn't want to show himself to me.
I cursed in my mind while thinking of ways to punish Laki.
I moved to where my son was hiding, but I froze when something caught my eye.
A burly man was leaning against the kitchen doorframe. I blinked when I saw the devilish grin on his face.
Why wasn't this guy wearing a shirt?
Laki was still smirking at me, so I gave him the middle finger and rolled my eyes.
Thankfully, my son couldn't see that.
Physically, Laki looked like Lazarus, but Lazarus had a stricter and more serious face. Laki was the playful and mischievous version of Lazarus. They both had undeniable sex appeal, with or without clothes.
"Zon baby, come out now," my voice was stern, which made my son quickly come out from his hiding spot.
I really wanted to throw a flower vase at Laki when I saw my son in full view.
My son was half naked too.
Really frustrating. What if he gets a stomach ache? I would really bury Laki alive.
I picked up my son and placed him on the sofa. Now, he was standing in front of me on top of the sofa. "Baby, did Uncle Laki feed you?"
"Yes, po, Momma! I ate a bucket of fried chicken!" He patted his little tummy. A few strands of hair covered his face, so I fixed his slightly messy long hair.
I looked at Laki. He crossed his arms against his chest as he leaned his left upper arm to the side of the polished wooden door.
"I'll get his clothes."
I didn't pay him any mind as he walked past me to go upstairs to Zon's room. The house wasn't that cramped, but it was just enough for the two of us. Just me and my son.
I took the rubber band from my handbag and tied my son's dark hair. He was sweating a bit from playing.
"Momma, I want to cut my hair, po. Tito Laki said I look like a gay with long hair, po," his reddish moist little lips pouted as he said those words. He still had a bit of difficulty pronouncing the letter r.
"You don't look like a gay to me, baby."
"But you should cut it, you're just too shy."
I shot Laki a death glare. He had already come down and laid out a plain dark blue tee shirt.
I harshly accepted the shirt from Laki and gently put it on my son.
I really don't know why I get so angry with the Cavanaugh brothers. I'm irritated, annoyed. It's just frustrating. Maybe it's because of what happened between Lazarus and me, even if it was just for a month.
That one month was really hard to forget.
"Hmm, Momma? Are you done working? Can we play now?"
I was momentarily stunned by my son's question. I bit my lower lip, trying to contain the anger, lest I punch Laki without a second thought.
I didn't want to lie to my son. He's young, but I just didn't want to fill my son's curiosity with lies.
"Yes, my work's done, baby," the hint of anger was still there in my voice, but I didn't let it show. "But you have to sleep first, okay?"
Laki was still standing at my side. I could see his stiff posture in the corner of my eye.
I picked up Zon and went up the stairs to his room. I left Laki there, knowing he wouldn't leave until we had a talk.
After half an hour of telling his favorite story and singing his favorite lullaby, my son fell asleep.
I went back downstairs after kissing my peacefully sleeping son's forehead. I always put him to sleep at noon because if not, he'd be asleep by six in the afternoon from playing too hard.
I didn't enroll him in school yet because he has a tutor every weekend, and I'll enroll him in a private school next school year. It's my Mom's idea that he should go to a private school. They said they'd help me with the expenses for their grandchild.
When I got downstairs, Laki was pretending to be seated on the sofa, watching Nickelodeon. At least now, he was wearing clothes.
He took the remote from the center table and turned off the television when he saw me.
"You look serious," the teasing tone was evident in his deep voice. "Oh? What did I do now?" he asked, looking genuinely puzzled when he saw the burning anger in my eyes.
"Did you give Lazarus Zon's DNA sample?" I couldn't help but be suspicious of him.
"He'd be so lucky if I were the one who gave it to him," he said seriously, but the teasing tone still hadn't left his voice. "I know Kuya Lazarus, he doesn't need my help just to do what he wanted. What if he demands custody of his own son?" he smirked teasingly. "I'll support you in court."
This guy is really infuriating. Both him and his brother are demons.
Maybe their blood boils against each other. They don't seem to get along. Lazarus aims high for their company, while Laki is a competitive magnate with lots of connections in politics, business, and more.
I wouldn't be surprised if he found out more about what happened between Lazarus and me before, and how it all ended up with Luzon.
I stood in front of Laki while he was sitting on the sofa. His knees were apart, and his elbows were resting on them, and he looked up at me.
"You're fired?"
"I have no choice."
"Still won't accept my money?" He's really testing my pride.
I shook my head. "I'll just look for another job."
"Why didn't you just accept my brother's offer? You're just making things difficult for yourself."
That got me silent.
I've been struggling ever since I got pregnant with Zon. I tried to contact Lazarus, even though I knew it was unlikely he'd answer my call.
He wouldn't want to hear my voice or see my face.
I'm done trying to force my way into his life. All I cared about before was ensuring that my child wouldn't grow up without a father, so I felt obligated to talk to him about the baby. But he never listened.
Now that my life is quiet and peaceful, he decides to disrupt it? After all the trouble he's caused before?
Hasn't he done enough damage?
"I would never do that," I said firmly.
I promised myself I would never beg again.
If someone doesn't want me, I won't force myself on them. I don't want my son to see me as pitiful. He used to see me as brave and strong.
A week after the incident in Lazarus' office, I immediately started looking for a new job.
"I'm so sorry, Ms. Belmonte, but we don't have any vacant positions in this office for you. Try applying at Cavanaugh Finance Corp."
Every bank and company I went to rejected my application, even though I could see that they were hiring. They all suggested I apply at Cavanaugh Finance Corp.
It's clear that Lazarus is involved in this again.
I've been hungry since earlier. It's scorching hot outside, but I'm walking. I can't afford a taxi or any other mode of transportation. My car is just sitting at home, the gas almost empty. My parents will send money next week, but I'm not relying on them. I need to find a job.
I left Zon at Irithel's house. That rich witch offered me money, but I didn't accept it.
It's not all about pride.
"I'm so sorry, Ms. Belmonte, but-"
"Fine! Fine! I'm leaving! Is this another suggestion to try applying at Cavanaugh Finance Corp.? Take my resume!" I said this in frustration. It's happened to me several times before.
They're like broken records, saying the same things over and over again. It's infuriating.
It's already hot outside, and I've been walking for quite some time. I don't even know where I'm going next to apply for a job. I don't have money for a taxi or any other transportation. My car is just parked at home, almost out of gas. My parents will send money next week, but I'm not relying on them. I need to find a job.
I happened to stop in front of a tall building, several meters away.
My feet brought me to the building of Cavanaugh Finance Corp.
I saw Lazarus near the entrance, talking to a businessman. I also saw his expensive car waiting below.
He's probably leaving.
The anger I carried earlier weighed heavily on my heart.
Maybe it's time I let it out.
Just as I approached, the businessman he was talking to entered the building, and Lazarus was heading down to his shiny black car.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw me. He wasn't surprised or happy to see me here. There was no change in his expression as he looked at me approaching.
I held my pouch and resume tightly. I was dressed formally-a tight black pencil skirt paired with a white long-sleeved shirt and black shoes with a slight heel. It's a struggle to wear heels when you're going to be walking all day. I didn't bother with a blazer, it's too hot.
With gritted teeth, I stopped right in front of him, about four feet apart.
"Ms. Belmonte, what brings you here?" Nothing had changed in his deep voice since I last heard it. It was plain and calm, yet serious.
It's nothing like our last meeting. He was shouting at me, telling me to leave.
I just stared at him for a few minutes before slamming my resume onto his unyielding chest.
"What is this about, huh? No one's accepting me, not even as a janitor! Damn it! I used to work with dignity, but why did you have to threaten Mr. Santos just to get me fired? I don't want to work in your company!" Every piece of paper from my resume flew into the air as I smacked it against his hard chest, and he didn't even flinch or step back.
I could feel the eyes of the employees and even the guard on us. It wasn't the same guard I had accidentally given my money to.
I didn't care if I looked scandalous here.
Lazarus had all my attention at this moment.
"I'm not forcing you to work in my company, Ms. Belmonte. It's your choice," his voice was incredibly authoritative, and I couldn't find a way to interrupt him or interject.
It took me a moment to gather my thoughts before I could speak again. "But I'll be forced to because no one's accepting me! You're so terrible!"
"Are you saying that you're going to work in my company now?"
"No! No! I just want to tell you and show you that I'll find a job eventually! I'm fine being a vendor as long as it's dignified!" I was inches away from slapping his face. I didn't care if I tarnished his reputation, even though they say he's incredibly handsome.
"Are you suggesting that a job in my company isn't dignified?"
I fell silent for a moment, unable to think of the right words.
"Does the cat got your tongue, Ms. Belmonte?"
I can't outsmart him.
"Shut up! Just stop those shit that you're doing, Mr. Cavanaugh! What do you want? My fucking service in your company-"
"Watch your pretty little mouth, Ms. Belmonte." He's still formal and I can see a progress on his expression. He looked pissed.
In my rage, I had nothing else to say. I turned to leave, but before I did, I faced him again and said, "Watch me say fuck you."
I left him standing there, and I could still feel his icy gaze on me as I walked away.
I didn't bother picking up my resume that had fallen on the floor earlier.
It's strange how he didn't get angry when I smacked my resume onto his chest. Isn't that embarrassing, especially since so many people saw me do it?
I don't care about that. I don't care if I tarnished his reputation.
The sun was setting, and I was still in the middle of the city. I wandered, searching for any possible job, but how? Now that I don't even have a resume.
I texted Irithel to take care of Zon because it looks like I'll be late picking him up tonight. I'm sure he'll worry about me seeing that it's getting late and I haven't picked him up yet.
"Even just as a dishwasher in a small eatery, they still refuse.
How much did Lazarus give them for them not to accept me?
It's already late at night, and I'm still walking.
My eyebrows raised when I saw a familiar sign at a bar.
Hiring Waitress.
I applied as a waitress in a restaurant but no one accepted me.
I'm having second thoughts about whether I should enter or not. Being a waitress in a bar is still a respectable job, right?
After all, it's just being a waitress, not a prostitute. But what if someone disrespects me? Is that still important? What matters now is that I get a job.
I approached the entrance of the bar, and my eyes widened when I saw the entire exterior of the bar.
So, it was familiar.
This was the bar I went to where I first talked to Lazarus.
Same as when I've been here, the expensive bar looks fun and colorful with its dancing lights, disco ball on top of the dancing floor and neon lights.
It's six in the evening, so there aren't many people here yet. Maybe by ten, more people will come.
I approached the guard who said I looked underage.
"Hiring waitress? Where can I apply?" I asked him. I saw how his eyes widened when he saw me.
I can see the confusion in his eyes that has dark shadows under. "Inside, just go straight to the staff's room."
I nodded and simply walked in.
There are a few wealthy people here. They're drinking, enjoying themselves, but I just walked straight and fixed my gaze on the white door a distance away from me in the very corner of this marvelous bar.
I knocked on the door of the staff's room before it opened, so I entered.
I didn't expect what I see. I thought applying here would be formal.
"My God! Bakla (gay), what is it! They're not the kind of waitress I'm looking for! Can't you see my bartenders? They're all on point! My baby boys and baby girls here are so hot, and them? They should be the ones applying at my bar!"
A professional gay is sitting at a table, holding his temple as if he's extremely stressed while talking to another gay, and there are almost five girls lined up in front of them.
"Girl, don't stress," the gay he's talking to patted his shoulders.
The stressed gay sitting in front of the table lifted his gaze, and at the right moment, our eyes met.
In an instant, the stress vanished from his face as he stood up in slow motion, gazing at me.
The gay was checking me out.
He hurriedly approached me and led me towards a sofa.
"Are you applying, girl? Perfect timing! We're short on waitresses!" He even checked my body figure and adjusted a few strands of my hair.
I looked at the girls lined up, being ushered out by the gay who is probably the assistant of the gay in front of me now.
They're not crossdressing. Their hair is cut short, and they're wearing male clothes, but when they act, they seem like girls.
"Yeah, I'm applying but-"
"You're hired! Just sign these papers. It's only a one-month job here, and you'll get paid every weekend. If you want to work here again after one month, you can sign another contract!"
He sounded desperate to have me working here. They probably won't sell me, right?
He sat me down on the sofa and his assistant handed me a folder and a black sign pen.
"Anyways! I'm Ruru Vicedo, the manager here, but you can call me Aurora, and this is Mike, but just call her Mikaela," he said in a high-pitched voice. It's kinda irritating but entertaining.
I read what's written in the contract, and when I saw that it's safe and doesn't involve any prostitution, I signed it.
"When can I start-?"
"You can start now, dear!"
He gave me the uniform and directed me to a restroom to change.
Why are things moving so fast?
I'm still in the restroom, looking at my reflection in the mirror while wearing the clothes that Ruru Vicedo has given me as my uniform.
It doesn't look indecent or inappropriate. It's formal, just like what the bartenders are wearing.
The only thing is that it's really tight on my body, revealing the true shape of my body. It's not perfect since my body suffered from pregnancy before, but I managed to get back in shape by working out at Domino's gym and maintaining a healthy diet.
The clothes are skintight, and it's so uncomfortable. The red skirt goes down to my thighs, and the top is a black tube. You can't see my cleavage, but I decided to pull it up a bit.
The gay said to tie my hair into a messy bun. I didn't have a hard time because my hair is naturally messy.
"Here's the tray, girl! Go girl on fire!"
When I came out, Ruru or Aurora gave me a black tray and pushed me out of the staff's room.
There's no one else in the staff's room, just them, because others have already started working.
Now, I see other girls dressed like me. They're all sexy and hot in their own way.
The bartender I gave a hard time to earlier was also surprised when he saw me. I didn't talk to him because someone called me.
"Miss, a bucket of beer, please."
"Anything else, Sir?"
"Well, may I order... you?"
I wanted to smack him with the tray I was holding.
Awkwardly, I laughed and left to get what they wanted. I felt his lingering gaze on me, as well as his companions.
They're sitting on a round sofa with a table in the middle. They look rich and just having a good time. Almost everyone here is wealthy and around my age or older.
Another bartender quickly attended to the orders I relayed.
Three hours have passed, and I'm really hungry. It's almost ten, and I get off at three in the morning.
I miss my baby. I'm worried that he might not be able to sleep, or maybe he's crying now because I'm not yet at Tita Irithel's house.
It's almost ten, and some other guy is giving me a lecherous look, but I didn't mind it. I'm focused on taking their orders, and I often think about my child.
"Miss," a guy who looks like a creep calls me, so I had no choice but to approach.
"What-"
I almost stumbled when I felt something hard wrapped around my small waist and pulled me away from the table. The tray I was holding even fell to the floor.
I didn't know where the guy who suddenly held me tightly by the waist was taking me.
It's dark, and the moving lights here hurt my eyes. It's also noisy, and there's the smell of expensive cigarettes.
I'm getting nervous. Can't I just lose it? What if Ruru fires me because I hurt his customer?
My body is pressed tightly against the guy holding me by the waist, and I'm cornered against the wall. He leaned forward and whispered huskily.
"It's a good job. "