Absinthe novel Chapter 35

"Stop touching your lips and daydreaming about Jiwoo!"

"Agghhh!" I screamed as I fell off the edge of my bed, startled because Derrick had come into my room uninvited.

"Pathetic," he murmured as he helped me back to my feet. "Where's the remote? You need to see something."

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and my nervous system was still on haywire after Jiwoo's gentle kiss. I couldn't do anything, not even get out of bed. I wasn't able to have breakfast or lunch, either, and to think that it was now way past noon.

It hadn't been a sexy kiss. Jiwoo's lips had barely touched mine, and no tongue had been involved. So I couldn't explain why I was still replaying everything in my head over and over.

"What's wrong?" I asked while pointing at the TV remote in response to Derrick's question.

"Eeeeew," Derrick said, covering his nose and mouth. "Did you even brush your teeth?"

I was unable to do that, too.

Derrick turned the TV on and flipped to a local news channel.

"Was there any casualty?" the news anchor asked, clearly worried.

"No, Purina. There were no casualties. Mrs. Gonzales was not injured," replied the field reporter while the camera panned to Faye's Range Rover. The car had minor dents and a cracked windshield. The other car, a Toyota Vios, was totaled beyond salvation.

"And the driver of the other car? Look at that—the damage is something else!"

"Yes, Purina. Eyewitness accounts have confirmed that Mrs. Gonzales' car rammed into the smaller Toyota Vios more than 10 times. Her Range Rover is definitely sturdier, so the smaller car stood no chance."

The camera panned back to the field reporter.

"Mrs. Faye Gonzales, wife of pharmaceutical tycoon Henry Gonzales, was seen slapping and kicking the driver whom we identified as a certain James Marco Rodriguez. We are in the process of obtaining video—"

"Holy hell, what the fuck is happening?" I asked Derrick, suddenly finding the strength and willpower to stand up. "Where's my phone? Let's call Faye right now!"

"Do we know the motive behind what she did?" It was the news anchor once again.

"Witnesses state that they heard Mrs. Gonzales shouting expletives at this James Marco Rodriguez. As of now, we don't really know the background story. Both Mrs. Gonzales and Mr. Rodriguez are in police custody for investigation."

"Thank you very much, Kierran. Viewers, that was Kierran Davila reporting live. Stay tuned for more news in the metro after this break."

"Live?" I asked.

"The live broadcast was yesterday. This was a replay."

Derrick handed over his phone, where a video clip uploaded on Facebook was playing. It was Faye going ballistic on JM, scratching his face, kicking his shins, and slapping the shit out of him. She kept shouting strings of insults, ranging from "pathetic loser" and "gold digger" to "a fucking callboy."

"I can buy you, your family, and this building!" screamed Faye in the video, with the person recording saying Oh my god hysterically.

Derrick and I looked at each other. "You think she's out of jail now?" I asked.

"She was never in jail, idiot," Derrick replied. "The police probably just asked her questions about the whole thing."

"Who's representing her?"

Derrick shrugged. "Rob? Anyway, go get dressed. Let's go to her house and find out what happened."

I gave up on my usual skin care routine and finished preparing to leave in exactly 27 minutes. My skin would surely get back at me for it in the future, but it was a small sacrifice to make. The issue was about Faye, after all.

Derrick was waiting for me in the kitchen when I exited my bedroom. "Rob's handling the case. He said there's nothing to worry about legal-wise. But it looks like he's having a headache because of the social media backlash."

Oh shit. I could only imagine what everyone was saying by now: Wealthy pharmaceutical company heiress goes wild, attacks innocent citizens.

"Let's just be there for Faye. I'm sure her husband's company has a team of publicists who'll handle this," Derrick concluded. "I'm driving."

On the way to the parking lot, my phone rang. It was Jiwoo. "Hi!" I greeted.

"Hey," Jiwoo said casually. "I baked you something."

"I actually have an emergency right now," I said, keeping pace with Derrick as we headed toward his Aston Martin Rapide. "One my friends got into something serious. Can I call you back?"

"Sure," Jiwoo answered, disappointment clearly in his voice. "These are really good, so you better contact me soon. I can have them delivered if you're still busy later."

At that moment, my stomach growled. Derrick raised an eyebrow and mouthed the words Burger King .

"Hey, give me a sec." I pressed the mute button and turned to Derrick. "Are you hungry, too? Jiwoo said he made something. Wanna go on the way?"

"Where?"

I unmuted my phone. "On second thought, my friend and I are starving. Where are you now? Is it alright if we come by?"

"When you said 'your friend,' you weren't talking about that lawyer dude, were you?"

"Nope," I said. "It's the other one. The doctor."

"Derrick, was it?"

"Yeah. You met him that day you lashed out at—"

"Alright, let's forget about the past. I'm at Chef Maxwell's."

"Great! It's along our route. I'll call you back when we're near."

Once inside the Rapide, I couldn't help but marvel at the workmanship of the interior.

"This car is sexy as fuck," I told Derrick as he started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

"You know it's a gift from mom and dad when I topped the licensure test, right?"

"Still," I said. "It's amazing!"

"Not as amazing as your Benz convertible."