"Where's Jacob." It was a statement I greeted Jaxx with the first time I saw him at noon on Monday. I hadn't seen him last Saturday, and Jaxx just brushed it off, saying he wasn't feeling too well for another alcohol-filled party.

"You suddenly care about the guy?" he smirked as we walked towards his office.

"I care about my company especially when I have to make excuses to a client because a key employee has been missing the entire morning. He hasn't updated me on our projects, and I'm meeting with the client this afternoon," I angrily said in one breath.

"Have you tried calling him?"

"Oh, now why didn't I think of that?" I gasped. "Of course I have! What do you take me for?"

"Guess that didn't work. How about Bart? Have you --?"

"I already did," I cut him off.

"And? Still no good?"

"Would I still be looking for that bloody idiot if Bart was of any help? He could not give me anything because Jacob encrypted the damn file, and only Jacob knows the password! Goddamn irresponsible little shit!" I was so pissed steam was practically piping out of my ears.

"Hey, chill! I'll get that file for you, and I'll kick him in the balls for you," he laughed, more amused than concerned.

"I'd feel better if I did the kicking myself," I scowled.

"You don't even know how to kick one ball. But sure, be my guest," he chuckled and dialed his phone.

I left his office and went down to IT to see how Bart was doing. This was one of my faults: I did a lot of micromanaging, and it was stressing me out. But if I didn't, not knowing how things are going also would stress me out. I'd rather be stressed out knowing what's happening than being blind to it.

Twenty minutes later, the coveted file was on my desk and in my email, and everything went smoothly with the client, with Bart filling in for Jacob during the discussion.

"Thank you so much for your time and for patiently discussing everything with us," Mrs. Villaleon shook our hands. She was around sixty years old, but she was very hands-on. One of her daughters had approached us to digitalize their business, and Mrs. Villaleon wanted to understand and be briefed on the computerization process.

"Forgive me for being rude, Mr. Kingston. I didn't think you'd be so Filipino-looking with a surname like that," she said in a tone that was a little confused.

"Oh, that's because I'm not Mr. Kingston, Ma'am. I'm Bartholomew Quing, Mr. Kingston's more handsome colleague," Bart explained.

"Oh, pardon me," her eyebrows rose, but she chuckled.

"It's all right. Our CEO here sometimes forgets to introduce me properly," he joked.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Kingston is on sick leave today," I interrupted. "But he will be informed of our discourse and the changes we've agreed upon."

"Thank you, Mr. Acebedo," she smiled. We chatted a little more as we walked her to the elevator, after which we said our goodbyes.

"Good job, boss." Bart patted my back. "I think I have an opening for a software engineer in my department. Would you like to apply? Because I really would love to be promoted to CEO."

"I'm not a software engineer, Bart, but I agree. You might need another one soon," I said, the smile on my face immediately dropping the moment the elevator doors closed. The thought of Jacob almost ruining the deal was back, making my blood simmer.

"When's Jacob coming back? Think he'll be back tomorrow?" he asked as we walked back to my office.

"I have no idea. Ask Jaxx. Maybe he knows," I shrugged, stomping my way to my office.

♤

Jacob didn't show up Tuesday either and I was getting more pissed. No phone call, no message. He didn't bother telling HR or Bart that he would not be able to come in. Sure he probably informed the COO but why didn't he tell me?

By Wednesday, my mood matched that of an angry momma dog that had just given birth. Only I wasn't quietly observing. I was actively picking on everyone. Even Bart steered clear of me.

"You're going to need a new keyboard by the end of the day if you keep pounding on the keys like that," Jaxx interrupted my thoughts. Since his birthday, he has been in a good mood, and it pissed me off even more, knowing he was okay while I was having my non-existent PMS.

I huffed, not having anything to say to him. My mind has been a jumble for quite a while now, but I was lucky that the thirty percent of it dedicated to work was functioning well. I needed a break. I wanted to have a break from adulting. I wanted to be a fish, so I could just swim all day.

"Did you know about Jacob and his gambling problem?" I asked him, unable to wrap my head around Brigs' revelation. The question startled him a bit, but he was not uncomfortable answering it.

"Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?"

"And you didn't think this would be vital information that you should have told me before we hired the guy?" I immediately lost my temper. He knew!

"I told you to meet the guy properly, but you never did. And you refused to be friends with him. He doesn't go around telling people he has a gambling issue in the US. That's why he's here in the Philippines, you know. But if you asked, he would have told you," he defended, not even apologetic.

"I don't have to be friends with people because you think I should be. He doesn't have to tell me he has a gambling problem. But you, you knew and you didn't tell me! It was your responsibility to lay the cards down and tell me everything I should know about the guy before hiring him!" I seethed, forgetting about the pun.

"Is he being hunted in the US? Is he on their wanted list? I don't want to be employing a criminal on the loose, Jaxx!" I blew my lid.

"Whoa, Ace! He's not a fugitive. He had an encounter with the law because of gambling but it wasn't because he stole or murdered someone. He and his friends were working on a theory, found a way around the system, and won several games and some huge pot money. It wasn't even the jackpot. But the federal law is strict when it came to those things. They've been arrested and penalized for it," he clarified.

"Jacob will not cheat us, nor is he here to deceive us. He isn't going to sell us out if that's what you're worried about. Leave his gambling arrest in the US," he said firmly.

"And what is your reassurance that he isn't going to fuck us over? What if he's back to gambling? Are you sure he hasn't been to casinos or poker clubs and he's not involved in shady things?" I pushed further.

"He still gambles. That's why he fights. The provision was that he could not set foot in a casino in Philadelphia. I don't know if he's been to any of ours," he replied quietly.

"You better rein him in, Jaxx. I'm saying this as a friend and as a business partner. If he's that good, sooner or later he's going to end up in those high-stakes poker clubs. I don't know about you, but I don't want to read about his death or arrest in the local paper's headline one day," I cautioned him. He sighed and nodded.

We sat in silence for a few minutes before I remembered that I wanted to be a fish.

"You want to go to Milieu this weekend?" I asked.

"Are you sure this is going to push through? Because you said that five months ago, and it didn't happen," he said, lifting his phone and tapping on it.

"Are you going or not?" I asked again, a little irritated.

"This weekend is good. North or South?" Jaxx looked up from his phone.

"South. It's closer," I replied. "I'll have Noelle take care of it."

"You okay? Did the presentation go well?" he asked. The look in his eyes tells me he feels there's something wrong.

"It went smoothly. I'm just really stressed," I said. "I'm gonna take a walk. I need a breather."

The twenty-minute walk around the area lifted a lot of stress from me. That plus some ice-cold coffee while people-watching in the park calmed my nerves and eased my mind. It was a cloudy day and there were occasional drizzles. Next to a bright sunny day at the beach, this bed weather in the city was my favorite. The cool wind blew through the trees in the park, bringing with it the scent of fresh rain. When a small drop of water landed on my cheek, I snapped out of my reverie and decided it was time to head back to work.

The short break significantly soothed my mood and put a few things in perspective. I returned to the office by four and decided to stop at the IT department to have a little chat with Bart. However, when I opened the door to their office, the calmness I gained while walking flew out the window when I saw our blond engineer with another shiner, a brand new bruise on his jaw, and something that looked like a hickey on his collarbone. He quickly adjusted his shirt when he saw my eyes settle on the purple mark.

"W-what are you doing here?" he sat up straight, hiding his surprise disastrously as he knocked Bart's mug to the floor.

"I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing here?" I raised an eyebrow.

"I work here," he joked. He tried to make a fucking joke.

"Is that so? I didn't know you still worked here seeing you've been AWOL since Monday. In case you did not know, I work here too. In fact, I own the firm you work in and you work for me, and under me, " I rebuked him.

"And just so we're clear, your work schedule is eight in the morning to five in the afternoon, Monday through Friday. Not flexi-time. If you need to go over time, you will. You got a problem with that, take it up with HR," I informed him crossly. He was lucky I took that damn break. Otherwise, I would have kicked him in the nuts the moment he opened his mouth.

"Bart, I need that report on my desk by eight tomorrow morning. Not in my email or in Dropbox. I want it printed out and on my desk."

"Sure. That's Jacob's account though," he said meekly, cowering behind his desk.

"I don't remember asking."

"About that. We're actually working on it, but the–" Jacob spoke, but I didn't let him finish. I did not want to hear his excuse.

"I don't believe that's my problem," I glared and left.

Moments later, I was briskly climbing the stairs to my floor once again in desperate need of another break. The office was suffocating. The people were incompetent and inefficient. I felt like a prisoner in my own room. I needed to get out. I needed the ocean.

I stuffed my things in my bag and left my office as fast as soon as the second hand struck five. Whatever I was feeling, it was overwhelming and upsetting.

Instead of heading to my condo, I went straight to the gym. I had to clear my head again.

This is stupid. This is not me. What was I even furious about? That I saw him with a new bruise? That after two days of absence, he decides to grace us with his presence, and yet, he has the gall to joke around and ask why I was at the office? Isn't that where he should have been Monday, eight A.M.?

I increased my speed on the treadmill.

There must be a rational reason behind all of this. I should not be furious. That's overreacting. Irritated, annoyed, pissed. Those are all acceptable reactions. But furious? Livid? Too much. I told myself. I sighed and held my temper down.

As his employer, I had every right to be pissed that he went AWOL and then showed up halfway through the afternoon with a goddamn hickey. His personal life was none of my concern but his being irresponsible and undependable in his work is. Jaxx can't and should not keep on covering for his ass and I should stop tolerating his insolence. If I should be objective about it, I should have served him several warnings for the stunts he's pulled before. The only reason he didn't get a reprimand was because he was Jaxx's friend.

But let's not forget about that fucking hickey. Are we going to address that? What was that about? I should not even be hurt about it because what the hell were we even? Fuck this fucking stupid feeling! Why am I feeling this for him? Goddammit!

That bastard. He might as well be under Bart since that guy was several notches more reliable than he was. I scowled harder at no one. I was furrowing my eyebrows so much that they were almost down to my nose.

I was on the treadmill for twenty minutes straight, running at nine kilometers per hour and my legs were about to give way. I moved to the machines and then the weights room after, relieved to see there were only four other people and so I didn't have to wait my turn.

The in-house physiotherapist approached and spotted me while making small talk. He gave me advice on how to improve my posture and optimize muscle gain, among other things. Whatever he said went inside one ear and out the other without being processed. My head was too busy trying to keep my face stoic and my mouth shut.

It was a little past rush hour when I drove home to El Valle and, in the process, got stuck in traffic for an hour and a half, but still, I wasn't done venting out. Val was most likely in Makati, and so was Cara. Chino must still be at work, while Seb, well, I didn't want to talk to him. He's an idiot and I would probably end up regretting it but I didn't have much of a choice because the moment I stepped inside the house, his laugh echoed from the kitchen.

"What's going on here?" I asked, peering inside.

"Oh honey, you're home! What brings you here?" My mom wiped her hand on her apron, cupped my face, and kissed me on my cheeks. "Miguel is teaching me how to make your dad's latest favorite dessert. I'm surprising him tomorrow when he arrives from La Union."

"That's cute, mom." I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"Stop worming your way into my mom's heart," I said, giving Seb a warning look.

"Just a little more and she'll forget you even existed. Right, mom?" he said, laughing. My mom just gave his shoulder a light punch and shook her head.

"So Tita, the last step is the confectioners' sugar. Let me show you a trick." They returned to their lesson, forgetting about me. And so, I climbed up the stairs and locked myself inside my room.

An hour later, Seb's relentless heckles and knocks woke me up.

"What the hell man? What do you want?" I squinted as the light from the hallway poured into my room.

"Mom wants you to come down for a late dinner," he said.

"Please tell mom I'm not hungry. I'm tired, I just want to sleep." 

He studied me for a bit and cocked his head. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just beat. Busy day, and I went to the gym," I said trying to close the door but he blocked it using his foot.

"For the love of God, Miguel Sebastian, don't be an ass tonight. I'm fucking stressed, and I'm in no mood to play your games!" I threw my head back and let my arms sag at my sides. Exasperated, I jumped back into my bed and let him do what he wanted.

"Look, I won't be an ass. I'm just curious. You don't have to answer if you don't want to," he said in all seriousness.

"What do you want?" I grumbled with my eyes still closed.

"Do Brigs and Jacob know each other?"

"Yes, why?"

"Nothing. Just curious," he said without conviction.

"Sure you are. Now if it is not important, can you please let me sleep?" I irritably said.

"Yeah. Last question: Did you leave with him last Friday?"

"With Brigs? Yes, I did. Which reminds me, what happened? What was the fight all about?" I turned around and faced him, propping one elbow on the bed.

He remained standing by the door. I knew there was a fight but Jaxx didn't tell me the details. He just said it was two regular people. When I told him that I heard someone say, "Blondie can fight," he just brushed me off, saying it was some other blond foreigner.

"Mmm. I don't know. One minute Chino and I were laughing, the next somebody shouted fight and I arrived on the scene in time to see Briggs hit Jacob."

"What? Why?" I sat up in bed as if I was tased awake. Why would Brigs head back to fight Jacob? For that stupid shove?

"Beats me," he smirked and shrugged before closing the door. 

"You fucking asshole! Miguel!"

♤  ♡  ♧  ♢