This Crazy Rich Boy - Chapter 159

The bus stops right across the road from The Residence. The inspector ȧssists Claire as she alights, carefully bringing down her one-piece luggage. And of course, Sam in her cage, too.

“I guess that’s it, Miss Claire,” the inspector says sheepishly. On his shirt is scribbled Claire’s dedication, done in felt-tipped marker.

“Thank you so much,” Claire says, giving him a hug. She looks up; all the other passengers are on the windows, waving at her. She waves back, her eyes looking for the old woman, the one to whom she owes an enormous debt of gratitude. But she’s nowhere; either she could not get to the window or she’s not bothering to look.

Claire watches the bus continue on its way, its hulky figure growing smaller in the distance. She gazes across the street; The Residence seems fine, as though nothing has changed. Because why not? It has only been a few hours since she “left,” for pete’s sakes!

She cautiously crosses the street, Sam in one arm, and tugging at the suitcase with the other. Before she could even touch the lobby’s doors, it swings open, and out comes Dale, his face the face of delighted surprise.

“Miss Claire, you’re back!” Dale throws his arms around her, forgetting propriety.

Sam barks from within the cage. “She wants you to know she’s back, too,” Claire says, laughing. She puts the cage down ad opens the door; Sam leaps out happily and runs around the cavernous lobby. She makes a turn into a corridor and is gone in an instant. “She’s probably looking for Lucille.” She looks around; the place seems deserted. “Where’s everybody?”

Dale looks uneasy. He shrugs. “Everyone’s in the back-of-house,” he says. “We thought you were really leaving for good, so we realized we’re probably losing our jobs, soon. So we were having some discussions about what to do next, you know. I only came out to get some of my notes and…”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry for causing all this trouble.”

Dale makes a weak smile. “So are you back for good, or did you just forget something?”

She sighs. “It all depends on him.”

“Gabriel?”

“Yes,” she says. “I really must talk to him. I shouldn’t have left things hanging like that. I should’ve—”

“But he was looking for you!” Dale looks panicked. “Didn’t you come from the airport? You didn’t see him there?”

“The airport? I didn’t go to the airport!” Claire is exasperated. “Why would I go to the airport?”

“Uhhh, because you were leaving and going somewhere…”

“I was at the bus terminal, Dale. I would not be able to afford a plane ticket.”

“But there are a dozen bus terminals throughout the city.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “But only one airport. So…”

“He’s still there,” Dale says. “He will wait for you. He won’t leave that place unless he knows you’re really, really not there.”

“Jesus,” Claire mutters, looking at the wall clock. “How long has he been gone?”

Dale shrugs. “Maybe a couple of hours, give or take.”

“I must find him,” Claire says. Then without further ado, she runs out into the road.

Dale scratches his head. What’s wrong with this couple? They are always looking or running after each other. When can they ever meet and settle down and just enjoy each other’s company, perhaps forever?

“Oh, well,” Dale mutters to himself as he walks back to the back-of-house area, where his colleagues must still be talking about the future, and how they’d face the uncertainty of joblessness. He’d be happy to tell them there’s no longer any reason to be afraid, that Claire’s back, and so is the long-term outlook of their tenure. But at this point, Dale knows the sheer unpredictability of this union—how at any moment, Claire could change her mind, or something unexpected happens, and something worse would descend on their lives. So he will withhold that news of Claire being back for good, at least for the time being.

Meanwhile, once Claire is out on the street, she immediately catches sight of Dean, having a smoke by the Bentley at the end of the driveway. She hesitates for a moment, wondering if she still has command of him. Why not make a stab at it? She waves a hand. Dean has already seen her, and is half-running toward her.

“Miss Claire!” The happiness on Dean’s face is unmistakable. “My God, I’ve never been so happy to see you back!”

Claire doesn’t know what to say, she so just smiles.

“You’re looking for Gabriel?” Dean says.

“Yes! Have you seen him?”

“I know where he has gone to,” Dean says. “So let’s go and make a run for it.”

“Thank you so much, Dean!” she manages to say, even as they run toward the car.

But Dean stops before he opens the car’s door. “But Miss Claire, please promise me one thing.”

Claire stops, too.

“Please don’t leave Gabriel like that. No matter what happens, no matter what you fight over, please talk to him before you make that kind of decision?”

“I’m sorry,” Claire says, almost teary-eyed. “I promise.”

Dean gazes at her for a moment. He smiles. “Thank you, Miss Claire.” He opens the door for her and ushers her inside. “Reconciliation with Gabriel is going to happen in about T minus ten minutes,” he says before he snappily closes the door.

Claire smiles despite herself; only now she realizes how much havoc she has caused by running away like that. She’s in a different league now, in a different world; a month ago, when she was still living in the apartment and just looking for a job, she could disappear and nobody would notice; maybe her parents back home would get to know about it only weeks later. But here, now, she disappears for a few hours and other people’s lives go in disarray, their employment put at risk. And slowly, the gravity of being with Gabriel sinks in—this is what it means for being with a captain of industry.

The Bentley is backing out of the driveway when Claire taps Dean on the shoulder.

“Dean, can I ask you something? I’d appreciate it if you could give me an honest answer.”

Dean looks at her in the rear-view mirror. He smiles. “Sure, Ma’am.”

“What would you do if you were in my position?”