Chapter 3

Haze of lazy smoke slowly spiralled its way up the ceiling, escaping through the small hole in his parted lips and the momentary flair of his nose. Gregorio Cortez was almost at the edge of loosing his shit at that moment. He inhaled the cigarette once again and removed it to exhale, repeating the previous spiralling action of the smoke in the air. 

The cigar was stuck between his index and pointer - third finger, and occasionally he would press the tip against the coaster placed in front of him to get rid of ashes. 

He picked his iPhone once again, next to the plain white coaster on the antique table before him and rose out of the comfy couch. He began to dial the same number for the umptieth time within the last thirty minutes he had escaped into his hotel room from the party. He was in the presidential suite.

It was large and elegant. There was a living room which chairs and a large television. There was a deck outside where parties of up to 50 people could be held. On the deck there was a fireplace and couches. It contained a king bed. The suite smelled harshly of cigarette smoke.

The call was going through, the usual humming sound filling the room and overtaking the near overwhelming silence that had wrapped around, almost steel-like and impenetrable. Few minutes into the ringing, it went into voicemail. No answer.

Jaw clenching, and thick brown brows furrowed tightly over his deep set eyes, Gregorio returned his phone in its previous position and paced the long length of the room restlessly. Awaiting the moment his calls would be returned and his phone would ring so he could dash there and give his younger brother a piece of his mind or the whole lot of it. 

He was supposed to be there with him already with the celebrant, entertaining his guests since the birthday party had being all his idea from the start. Gabriel was the fun one. The cheerful one. Not him. That could never be him. It was all his immediate younger brother's idea to throw the flamboyant birthday party. infact, all parties in the hotel had always been his idea and most times than not, Greg was never in attendance.

But this party was to please the last child of the family because he was so dear to them and they had practically raised him themselves from his childhood. Well, he and Gabriel, not Gideon.

Gideon, the first son of the Cortez family was the most nonchalant one of them all. He was never present for anything and the last time Greg had set his eyes on him was already two years, with no show up for family meetings or nothing.

Him, Gregorio Cortez, the second son was the gloomy, always moody one. Though he didn't like turning up to family events and was always angry for whatever reasons, he still did so if it involved his family.

At that moment, Greg was regretting allowing Gabriel convince him to fly down to Warmaukey, their hometown just for a birthday party when he could be back at Miami, Florida, attending to much more important business matters.

Stopping his restless pacing, Greg headed in the direction of the long windows to look outside the room.  The sky was as black as an abyss, dark clouds were quick rolling in, grey patches decorating their tips like a turning page capturing dim light. Wind was whistling and howling softly and the night was frigid and chilly. It seemed as if, at any moment from then, the heaven would part and rain would would trudge the earth like millions of soldiers on attack.

Another fall, another turned page. The season was just perfect to him at that moment. Summer had departed about two weeks past, and Autumn had taken over. The autumn has dressed herself for the coming season, donning her most vibrant hues. She had swept into thr streets and woodlands with a humble boldness that invites the eye to see more than they otherwise might. The autumn had taken her pirouette, her sweet turn on the stage all around.

Greg was a lover of the autumn, of the colours that were bold and homely, strong and yet a call to remind our Earth and all she gives in the harvest months. It was the season of inner calm and a kindly stoicism etched in memories of joy. 

But at that moment, he couldn't see the color of the dropping leaves, because the sun had set hours ago and the sky was now pitch black, stars obscured from his eyes because of the thick puffy dark clouds that had drifted in.

Cold air gushed against his face from the open window, refreshing. His hair—cut short—toppled out of place and danced about in the air, stray strands of deep brown.

Gregorio exhaled once again, the smoke clouded his vision for a second or two before it dissipated into the air. There was only one light illuminating the big room he was and it was just one small lamp on the right side of the window, shedding weak dim rays against his profile. His head was tilted up as he watched the clouds, and his lashes were blinking rapidly. His spider-legs long eyelashes were fluttering over his deep-set black eyes that always made him look fierce and when he was bored, very expressionless and stoic. 

Greg liked autumn.

He liked the dark — found comfort in it. 

He liked rain.

He liked silence.

And adored his cigars.

From outside, two floors down, he could hear the sound of festivity looming from the hotel's ballroom and could only imagine that their guests were having the time of their lives while their hosts were nowhere to be found. The hotel's fascinating, open air swimming pool was located near his room window, with its beautiful view which was unusually empty that evening, considering the fact that the hotel guests were always excited to have dips every single evening, whether it was really cold or not. The swimming pool was constructed with the cool blue tiles that enhanced the color of water in the pool. Bright lights illuminated the surrounding, spreading rays of baby blue glimmering light.

He was wondering why the area was empty but then it occured to him that the party had probably seemed more important to hotel guests than the pool. 

Just as he was about to look away, a figure had gotten his attention. It wasn't too dark by the pool side not to notice the person. He squinted. She was a female? Looked harder and then nodded slowly in agreement. Yup. Definitely a feminine figure. Skinny, petite one. The wind was blowing harshly against her, and her long gown was sticking to her like a second skin. Her hair was aloft, flowing freely and wildly in the air as if it were a paid Bollywood actor to make the moment seem more magical.

A small smile curled up Greg's lips and he leaned further into the window and propped his elbows against the pane to watch at a slightly closer range. The fresh air was doing him good but his cigarette had fast burned out and he was fast missing the drags that was only a few seconds gone. He dropped the remnant of his cigarette out the window, his eyes didn't leave that mysterious womanly figure for even one second.

He was bored and maybe just watching a random guest who had wandered out of the party would atleast keep him company till his brothers arrived. 

But just as soon as he began to get satisfaction from watching, the sound of his iPhone ringing pierced the air. Greg pulled away from the window quietly and headed in the direction of the device. He didn't even check the caller's ID because he already knew who it was.

He pressed his phone into his ear once he picked the call, seething and furious. He began in a strained voice; "What the hell is taking you two so long? You god-damned son of a—"

The calm, drowsy, nonchalant voice of his brother cut him off with a raspy chuckle. "Calm your titties! We're about pulling in already. Twenty minutes. All we need. We'll be at the hotel."

"Better be," Greg grumbled.

He ended the call and just at that moment, a knock resounded against his room door. It was gentle and almost timid-like. He looked up and raised his voice loud enough that whoever it was could hear him talking.

He demanded to know, "What do you want?" 

A small voice answered back from the other side. She was his secretary. "There's a woman outside, refusing to leave, she says it's a must she sees you."

A woman? Gregorio thought. Of course, his secretary could have just called him from her make shift desk for the night outside his room but he had turned off the phone she and other business related issues could contact and reach out to him through and kept it somewhere so his workaholic self wouldn't be tempted to turn it back on. He wanted a free night. No business calls. No impromptu business meetings. So who was this woman, his secretary was speaking of and how had she found out which room he had decided to spend the night at the hotel?

Frowning deeply, he began to move closer to the door. The tension in him had eased and lessened tremendously.  "What's her name?" His voice was less hostile this time around.

The voice answered swiftly, "She says she's Pamela. Pamela Camille Renfrew."

"Tell her I'm not in."

Without even a single moment of hesitation, the secretary turned away. Greg could hear her footsteps in the hallways, getting farther and farther till it went vague and indistinct and completely disappeared. 

He walked back into the center of the room, and grabbed his tailored suit jacket at the armrest of the couch he had been seating on earlier and struggled to hastily have it on while he dashed around the barely lit room in search of his cigarette pack and lighter. Once he pocketed them safely, he took off in the direction of the door. 

Popping his head into the brightly lit hallways, Gregorio looked left and right in search of any approaching figure before he completely stepped out.

He knew Pamela so well. She was stubborn and irrational, always jumping into the conclusion of things that were not true. She had been his ex at a point in his life. It's been years now — almost six — but it seemed like she wasn't over him yet. Truthfully, the relationship had only lasted about four months, one of the longest be had ever been in, and he had totally forgotten about her before that year ran out. That was until she resurfaced and was on a never-ending search of a chance to get back together with him.

With brisks steps, Gregorio took off down the hallway, hoping he didn't come across Pamela. However, his luck ran out when he rounded the corner and heard her shrill tiny voice call out to him from behind; "Greg! Greg!" 

He increased his pace just as soon as he heard her heels

clicking speedily, kissing the tiles more aggressively as she ran in pursuit of him.