Chapter 142 - The Sinking Ship

His brow knitted in confusion, Gabriel turns to Claire, as if looking for clarification.

Claire is a deer in headlights; this reporter is not even thinking. He's so darned stupid. Jesus, hasn't he even learned anything from that pool party incident? To walk up to Gabriel just like that, right when he's in the foulest of moods. "Uhh, he's the…Uhh, the reporter, remember?"

Gabriel looks at her as though a ċȯċkroach has just crawled out of her mouth. "What reporter?"

Claire sighs. How could Gabriel remember? Every single day tons of things happened to him, while to her, the world revolved around Gabriel and his little shenanigans.

"He's just a reporter from some magazine," Claire says dismissively. "And he's—"

"And as I've said Mr. Tan, I'm here to offer my help. Heard about your brother. So maybe I'm qualified."

Gabriel gazes at him, seemingly sizing him up. The truth is, this guy looks familiar, he just can't place where or when he did see him. IN any case, he's not getting good vibes from this; he's feeling what he felt about Jake Magno.

"I work for a prestigious, well-known weekly publication, Mr. Tan. The Muck—"

In a flash, Gabriel recognizes him. "You're that sleaze who gatecrashed a party I had! Who told you to come here?"

"Well, uhh…" he glances at Claire, as if begging for a lifeline. "Well, a little birdie told me…"

But Gary doesn't finish what he's saying, as Gabriel grabs him by the collar. "I don't need you and your kind here. Crawl back to the hole you'd come from!"

Gary stumbles and falls on his back. Claire throws her arms around Gabriel to stop him; she almost screams, but her instinct tells her to keep it quiet, so she whispers in Gabriel's ear to take it easy, focus on what matters. Thankfully, Gabriel comes to his senses. He nods, raising his arms.

Gary Smulders stands up, dusting off his jacket. Yet, he has that look of defiance on his face. "I could sue you, Gabriel. You could have added me to your growing list of ȧssault victims."

That yanks Gabriel from his untenable place of cool. "Why you—"

Gary jumps back, but he knows he's safe, as Claire holds Gabriel back. "Don't mind him," Claire says, her voice rising in pitch. "Let's not even…" Then to Gary: "Leave, please."

Gary grins. "Sure, if you don't want me to donate my blood to the brother you almost killed, I'm fine with that." He brandishes his notepad, like a trophy. "I have my story. I don't need your approval. And Miss Claire, kiss goodbye to our agreement."

"What agreement?" Gabriel snaps at her.

"It's…" Claire shakes her head. "I'll explain later. It's not important to…"

"I know all the details of why your brother lies unconscious in that room," Gary says, still at it.

Claire rolls her eyes at him. "Will you leave? Please?"

"Sure," Gary says, finally. "Sure. See you around, you lovely couple!"

It takes Gabriel all his remaining strength to not go after the man and beat the sh1te out of him. Maybe Claire's arms around him helped, too. But surely, there's something about what the reporter said that left him feeling a bit strange.

Claire sighs as she watches Gary leave. Their ship is full of holes. There have been so many witnesses, and none of them has been oriented or ordered to keep the Tan family's privacy. And now Claire realizes that keeping Miguel's accident a secret is not the way to go. Full disclosure maybe the smarter move, especially now that someone like Gary Smulder has entered the equation.

Gabriel turns to her. "My head and heart are full of things. But I'm glad you're here beside me."

"Me, too," she says. She holds his hand. "Thank God Miguel's condition is getting better."

"Yeah," he says. "We still need more blood, but if we can't find more, the doctor says there are ways to keep him stable while we wait for a donor. And it's all that I needed to hear, the fact that we can buy some time."

"Maybe we can check out blood banks in other cities."

"Yes," he says. "Already called up my point person for that. I'm sure later today we can finally get it."

"So," she says, hesitating. "Now that Miguel's condition is more or less good, maybe we can try to think about the war on perception that's at stake here."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, if the public learns about the real reason behind Miguel's accident, that you had to do it because he was trying to ȧssault me, it might have a negative impact on your reputation. It might affect your businesses. Your companies are publicly traded, Gabriel. The value of your stocks might get shot down."

"I don't think that's…" But then he falls silent. Claire has a point. Why has he been blind to this? He has never figured in a public spectacle before, so the possibility of this accident hitting the valuation of his companies seems unreal, even to him. "You mean that reporter is…"

"Is only one of our concerns. I've been trying to reach your public relations director, Catherine Buenavista. Couldn't get hold of her. We need to craft a game plan. Some public relations stunt or other. Or at least, we should be aware of all possibilities, so that nothing would surprise us."

Gabriel looks at her for a long moment, weighing his own thoughts. "We can keep it simple, Claire," he says finally. "You know Occam's Razor? It says that usually, the simplest explanation is the true one. We can just—"

But Gabriel never finishes what he says, as Mrs. Gomez's voice blares from behind them. "Mr. Tan! Good news!"

Mrs. Gomez looks already haggard at this hour, and for some reason, Gabriel feels pity for her. He makes mental note of what he'd offer her as compensation later. "I'm sure if it's done by you, it's nothing but good."

"Yeah!" Mrs. Gomez chirps, albeit too cheerfully for comfort. "The good news is, almost a hundred people are on their way here to have their blood tested for compatibility."

Claire says, "Really? Oh, my God! Maybe we can find a good match now. We don't have to search in other blood banks. Right, Gab?"

"A hundred people, Mrs. Gomez? It's not the most efficient way to find a blood donor. You could have just asked their blood type and…"

"Well, nobody knew what their blood type is," Mrs. Gomez says. "Who knows, in this day and age?" Then she looks behind her with that look of uncertainty in her face. "But there's just one bit of a not-so-good news, Mr. Tan."

"What do you mean?"

Mrs. Gomez opens her mouth to speak, but she's cut off by a shrill voice Doppler-shifting toward them. And Gabriel doesn't have to look up to know who it is.

"Oh, my God, Gab, why didn't you call me up? Where's Miguel? Where's the doctor? Nurses? Here's my arm, take all the blood you can get," says Michelle Alcantara, wearing her signature animal print dress that makes people look at her cleavage. Noticing that Gabriel and Claire are not speaking; they're just gazing at her like they've seen a snake, she says, "And a pleasant morning to you, too."

Mrs. Gomez feels like she just wants the earth to swallow her up.