My Kind of Perfect (17 page)

“Hmm... looks like you do,” he said, examining me from head
to toe.

“Stop staring! Stop doing anything!” I said, feeling even
more crimson by the minute.

“And the price for the kiss, I'm waiting for that,” he said
out of the blue, making the situation more awkward than before.

“It's a million!” I exclaimed.

“Okay, you said it, right?” he asked me again. Then before I
could even answer, he said, “Then, it's a deal.”

I blinked twice before realizing the meaning of the hint of
laughter in his eyes. Oh, crap! I totally forgot that he was the General
Manager of Burchett Hotel. And those kind of guys could afford prices like
that.

Why all this trouble?

“About that... let's double or triple the price!” But
instead of answering me, he started to go down. I hurriedly followed him down
as I said, “John, listen...”

I stopped midway because I was trying to land my foot on the
next branch, only to realize that there wasn't any. The branch was broken,
probably when John went down a while ago. I looked down and saw that I was
still some feet away from the ground. Thinking that I would get a sprain if I
would jump from where I was, I pondered for a while on what to do. Johnny
seemed to notice that I was not talking anymore, so he looked back.

“What are you doing? Jump,” he said as soon as he saw me.

“I'll get a sprain if I do that,” I said back to him.

He closed his eyes, as if containing himself, then exhaled
before he walked back towards where I was. If you translate it, it looked as if
he said,
‘Can this girl be any more annoying than she
already is?’

Well, I didn’t want to get a sprain.

I bent down, trying to step on the broken branch and see if
I could still make use of it. So really, I was determined to do everything
within my capability to get down by...

Myself?

I took that back as John carried me by the waist and placed
me on the ground. I instantly froze in place, not being able to do or say
anything. He carried me. Johnny carried me by the waist. I asked myself why I
was feeling this way. I was supposed to be mad. But I wasn't. Instead, my heart
was going wild beyond my consent.

“Kayla?” he asked, waving a hand in front of me.

I snapped back and needlessly said, “That's a thousand.”

“Huh?”

“You touched me. Pay me a thousand,” I said to him. I was
still confused why I was acting this way but somehow I managed to say
something. At least, he wouldn't notice that I was struggling with my thoughts.

“Seriously?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied, still dozed off in space. Then I moved
towards the tree and grabbed some sharp stone from the ground. I carved the
deal together with the prices I said earlier and signed at the bottom. Handing
the stone to him, I told him, “Now, sign here.”

“That's the deal?” he asked again, just making sure of my
sanity.

“Yes, that's the proof that we signed a deal. If you ever do
anything funny again...” I warned.

“You mean if I don't pay you, you'll sue me with this tree?”
he questioned.

“Yeah, I will sue you using this tree,” I echoed back,
pointing to the tree. “Don't worry. I'll bring a lawyer over to make everything
legal.”

“That sounds interesting,” he said, nodding his head. I
watched as he laughed for a while. Nevertheless he placed his signature beneath
the 'deal'. Now this would make a good headline:
General
of Burchett Hotel Signed a Deal with a Tree
.

But that was enough for me to believe that I somehow had
something that I could make use of in preventing him from doing anything funny
to me. Or so I supposed.

I turned back and saw his laughing face as he shook his head
while looking at the funny deal that was inscribed on the tree. The tender look
in his gray eyes became more familiar by the minute, together with the sound of
his laughter. It reminded me of everything we once were, of things that I'd
rather wished had stayed and never changed.

Then after looking at it for quite some time, he turned
back, catching me off guard. “What?”

But I knew that he hadn't got a clue on what I was thinking.
For with another friendly gesture, he gently tapped my shoulder as he passed by
me and said, “Let's get going, Kaye. It's getting dark.”

“That's two thousand now,” I let the words slip my mouth,
covering up my messed up thoughts.

“Two thousand it is. Are you coming?”

I exhaled. “Yes, I'm... coming.”

“What happened to the two of you?” exclaimed Dorothy as soon
as we came in sight, ditching the book that she was reading.

Worry was evident in her eyes, as well as some kind of pity
with our destitute state. But I wasn't sure about all that knowing how good an
actress she was. However, she certainly appeared to be even more surprised than
what I had imagined her to look. For a moment, as we were desperately trying to
find our way up here, I also thought that she would be pleased more than
surprised. Well, she should blame it on the fact that seeing me in any form of
helpless state amused her.

“Hi, Grandma,” muttered John half-heartedly.

“Why are you covered in mud? And what's with the torn
clothes?” she disbelievingly asked as her eyes went from him to me.

“Hi, Dorothy,” I exhaled. Couldn't she just let it go and
act as if she saw us with fine clothes and decent appearance? I wasn't fond of
elaborating the exhausting events that had happened to our supposed to be
honeymoon.

“What happened? And where's the car?” she uttered again as
she cut in between us and tried to find the missing car. If she would go all
the way down the mountain and across those deadly trees and pass that mountain
boar, she would find that ‘missing’ car.

I let out a long sigh which in turn resounded by the
worn-out man beside me. We walked away, leaving the confused Dorothy behind. I
bet she was still trying to figure out what had happened.

Pleasant good mornings were echoed from the staff of the
hotel as we trod our way in. I found it kind of mirthful that even though I was
certain that John was also as dead-tired as I was, he still greeted them back.
If he was running for office, that would explain all that. But since he wasn't,
was that for some kind of good deed that he used to do from way back then? He
owned the place so he didn't need to act all that polite and courteous. He was
paying everyone, and that alone should be enough.

“Good morning. You're doing a great job,” I echoed what he
was saying to each of the workers.

I looked around and saw that I had been given disapproving
looks by everyone. It seemed like they have had heard my supposed to be
soundless mumbles.

I shrugged. “I was just trying to be funny.”

Then I saw one bratty girl rolled her eyes. And the others,
well, they just kind of shook their heads in disagreement. And trying to make
the funny situation worse was John who reproached what I did when he whispered
to my ears, “I can still hear you from this distance. Can't you try to act a
little nicer to everyone?”

“I was just trying—” I said but he held me by the mouth and
dragged me along.

“My wife is just having a bad day, as you can all see. Tired
and exhausted from all the...” he paused, giving it a thought, “...walking with
mud all over.”

I tried defending myself but his hold was firm and
unmovable. I struggled but he hadn't given me a chance to say or do anything.
He flinched with my acts but nonetheless continued his act of goodwill to all.
Hastening his footsteps and dragging me along in a pace, we arrived in our room
another second later. That was an exaggeration but we did arrive fast. As soon
as we were inside the room, he let go of me.

“What do you suppose you're doing?”

“Why do you have to drag me that way? I have a set of feet
of my own. I can walk. And you don't have the rights to hinder what I will do
or what I will say,” I stated, holding my hands on my waist.

“Just because you have those rights doesn't mean that you
can just use it and disregard the rest of the world. You have to be nicer and
treat other people with respect. Don't you know the saying that if you don't
have anything nice to say, just zip it?”

“As I said, I was just trying to be funny. It was not meant
to be an insult,” I answered.

“Then I guess you should know the meaning of the word ‘funny’.
Cause from what I'd seen, no one, not even the birds in the sky, found it
funny,” he said before heading off to the bathroom and shutting the door behind
him in utter frustration.

“What's got the birds in the sky got to do with me being
funny?” I shouted back to him, making sure that he heard the last part of the
argument.

First the cows and then the birds, did he taken a liking to
animals now? Tsk. And then I added, “Now that's three thousand, in case you
forgot.”

If he would continue doing all this, then I would certainly
become an instant millionaire by the end of this stupid three-month contract.
It was now all about the money and that foolish deal of Dorothy's.

Oh yeah. Cha ching. Cha ching.

I collapsed on the floor, feeling the exhaustion taking
over. A moment later, as I was staring tiredly at my surroundings, there came a
knock on the door. Not wanting to get up, I just let it slip by for a moment.
Whoever that was could assume that the two people inside the room were in deep
slumber.

Nevertheless, impatience became evident as the knock was
then accompanied by a voice. “John, Kayla,  you two in there?”

‘No,’
I wanted to say. But
really, how hard must it be for her to ask the ones outside and confirm that we
were really in this room. I mean she already did a background check on me. So
knowing that we were inside wouldn't be that hard for her.

I lazily forced myself up and headed towards the door. The
last thing in my list right now, after the long day we had since yesterday and
John's bickering a while ago, was to hear another word from Dorothy.

“Coming,” I said half-heartedly.

In a while, I opened the door and saw, of course, Dorothy
who was holding a piece of paper in her hands. Another paper. Seriously?

“Hi dear, you haven't taken a bath yet?” she asked as her
eyes scanned my mud-filled appearance.

“Your grandson is not yet through. Can I use another
bathroom?” I asked, hoping to get away from her this instant.

“No, you guys will be sharing the same room for three
months, remember?” she said to me as she welcomed herself in and sat on the
sofa.

“Can't we have at least different bathrooms?” I said again.

“No, it's all about sharing things like some good old
married couples,” she said back to me.

“What's with the papers?” I curiously asked, realizing that
I couldn't force her into anything.

“Oh this? It's the contract. I'm carrying it with me today
to remind you that you need to work on a little more on your pretending
skills,” she uttered.

“What about them?”

“Well, you two seemed to be uhmm... how can I say this? More
like sworn enemies than endearing couple. So as to avoid giving any buzz to the
media, I'm here to remind the two of you to work on it,” she stated.

“O-kay?” I murmured. We were not sworn enemies but that was
a good point. We could use that term from now on. Because from the looks of it,
we might end up being one.

“Speaking of the media, John promised to give a statement
concerning his sudden wedding, if you know what I mean. And you also have to
make an appearance there, of course, as the wife,” she continued saying.

I silently nodded.

There was nothing much I could do anyway. As much as I
wanted to, I couldn't go on and be frantic about all this. I had a contract
that tied me to whatever the contents maybe. And that was not just the worst
part because I still had Dorothy here, who was with us all the time, to ensure
that her contract was being implemented the way she wanted to.

“And for the first training with regards of you being his
wife, we need to work on your social skills,” she said, listing down some
things on another piece of paper.

“Is this included in the contract?” I disbelievingly asked
her.

“Oh yes, if you go to page three...” she said, scanning the
pages. “Oh, here it is.”

She handed me the contract and like she said, something was
written in there: I promise to do all that I can to be a proper wife of John in
front of everyone. Proper? Was I not proper enough in her eyes?

“I think all these trainings are unnecessary. I mean, I am
proper enough for him, if you ask me,” I told her.

“Well, that's why I'm not asking you. From what I’ve heard
of a while ago, you acted a little hateful,” she said, holding my eyes.

“Are you also here to lecture me to be a little nicer to
everyone?”

“Exactly,” she said. “That's the first and foremost quality
of a notable person's wife.”

“And I should be that way too?”

“Of course, you know the deal,” she said to me, fanning the
paper in front of her face.

“But really, I think I'm nice enough.”

“No, trust me. You're far from the word nice,” she blandly
said.

She must be blind. I was nice.

As we were talking, the bathroom door opened and emerged a
freshly showered John. He was wearing a robe but I felt my cheeks getting
flushed. And the most disbelieving thing that had happened was that I nervously
took my eyes off him—with heart seriously pounding wildly. This contract was
driving me insane. It just made me lose half of my mind. And in turn, here I
was, being flared up with a nerd.

“What's wrong, dear? The bathroom's free. Don't you want to
get rid of all that dirt?” suggested Dorothy.

With the reminder—and John’s toweled body—I nodded and
dashed off towards the bathroom. And the last thing I heard before the door was
shut closed was John asking Dorothy what was wrong with me.