Take My Breath Away

Delicately holding two glasses of wine, Curtis walked towards his buddies. "I've managed to bring only one extra glass," he said while taking a sip from the glass in his right hand. Then he placed the second glass on the desk before them and added, "Whoever grabs this first will have it. The rest of you can fetch your own."

They all took it as a joke. Since when did they have to compete for a glass of wine?

But even before he loosened his grip, Damon grabbed the glass, went to the couch and said casually, "Well, seems I'm the lucky one." Then in the same casual manner, he sat next to Megan and offered her the glass. "Little angel, you can have this," he said with a sideways glance at Curtis.

"Hey, are you trying to impress her with the wine that I've just brought for you? Shame on you!" Curtis reprimanded.

"Thank you, Uncle Damon, but I don't feel like drinking." Megan declined his offer politely. She sat with her fingers interlocked under her chin, seeming very preoccupied.

"You were fine just a moment ago. What happened?" Damon asked curiously.

Casting a pitiful glance at Carlos, who was still smoking, Megan complained, "Aunt Debbie doesn't seem to like me. She even had a fight with Uncle Carlos over me. I feel so sad..."

Carlos flicked the ashes from his cigarette and said indifferently, "It has nothing to do with you."

Poor at reading moods, Damon consoled Megan, "It's okay. Pepper Nian is an odd woman. As far as I know, she has only a few friends. Besides, our Megan is so adorable. I can't see how anyone could not like you. Don't think about it too much." He stroked her hair gently.

But the comments rubbed two of his friends the wrong way. Carlos looked at him with burning eyes and asked, "Who is the odd woman? I dare you to repeat it."

Gruffly, Curtis snatched the glass of wine from Damon's hand, poured the wine into his own glass, and snapped, "Boy, you have the nerve to speak ill of Debbie before Carlos! Try that one more time, and I swear, he'll beat the crap out of you!"

Instantly, Damon regretted his mistake. Why would he cross Carlos? To make up for his error, he went to the wine cabinet and brought the other glasses of wine that Curtis had poured for them. "I'm sorry, Carlos. You know how clumsy I sometimes get in expressing myself. Guys, let's forget that dry joke and drink."

They clinked glasses and settled down to some chitchat.

Turning to Curtis, Carlos asked, "I've already gone through all the formalities for Debbie to study abroad. How about you?"

But Curtis, somewhat not in favor of the ide

graduation, you'll find me a slot for work in your company. It would be exciting to be part of your team at work," she enthused, smiling from ear to ear.

Mulling over her excitement, Carlos cast her a meaningful glance. "Okay. An Economics and Management School in the United States is pretty good. You can—"

Before he could finish, she interrupted him. "Uncle Carlos, thanks for the generous offer. But I'd prefer going to the Economics and Management School right here in Y City. I don't want to study abroad. That would be like sending me away from you. I don't know how I could live far from here," Megan pleaded earnestly as she grabbed Carlos' sleeve and looked at him with innocent doe eyes.

But Carlos simply drew his sleeve out of her delicate hands and poured himself another glass of wine. "We'll see," he said, sounding distant. Taking large gulps, he downed the glass without another word. He was watching, trying to see what she'd say next.

"Uncle Carlos, you've had too much already. Let's go back home," Megan suggested, looking at Carlos, who was leaning against the couch now, his eyes shut as if in deep contemplation.

When he opened his eyes, he took the phone out from his pocket and handed it over to Megan. "Call Tristan and ask him to drive me home."

"Sure."

Megan input the password, but to her surprise, it was wrong. Jealousy flooded her as she knew it must have had something to do with Debbie. She took a deep breath and said, "Uncle Carlos, I have no password."

With his eyes closed once again, he told her the numbers without even bothering to look at her.

On call, Megan seemed to have poor connection in the private booth. Tristan couldn't hear what she was saying.