Take My Breath Away

Chapter 63: Take Off Your Shoes

Watching her leave, Carlos wondered, 'I said I was sorry and I would like to make amends for my past mistakes. Why is she still mad?'         

Dissatisfied with how things went, Carlos quickened his pace and caught up with Debbie in the hallway. He startled her when he held her by the hand all of a sudden. Forcefully, she tried to wrench her hand free, but he tightly held on, until they were in the elevator. "You haven't done your part yet. Now, I'll hang around to give you company while you do it," he declared.     

"Part? What part?" She was confused.     

But Carlos didn't answer, as he quietly led her to the ground floor of Dubhe Building. When they came to a shop for men's fancy underwear, Debbie understood what he had meant by her part. She had passed by that shop without going in that morning. Now with Carlos at her side, she didn't have a choice but to enter.     

Some shop assistants trotted over to them when they noticed Carlos. "Good afternoon, Mr. Huo," they greeted in unison.     

"Welcome, Mr. Huo," added one of them, a lady, apparently in charge of her colleagues.     

Carlos nodded at them before he took Debbie further inside. "Go find me something you like. I'll wait here," he urged. Then he turned around, found the nearest empty chair and sat down to wait for Debbie. Almost immediately, a shop assistant beaming a smile served him a cup of tea. Between sips, he kept himself busy, reading a catalog of products.     

Lost in a sea of expensive men's underwear, Debbie smiled awkwardly at the shop assistants who were guiding her around. To put herself at ease, she wandered around briefly, pretending to be at home.     

A pair of red briefs caught her eyes. The embarrassment on her face was gone. She snickered and went to Carlos. "Will you wear anything I buy?" she inquired.     

Carlos raised his head from the catalog. Although Debbie tried to look calm, her eyes betrayed her. To the mischievous look in her eyes, he sighed. "Yes, I will," he agreed.     

His affirmative reply almost made her jump with cheer. It took a bit of effort to restrain her emotions as she turned. But before she could take two steps, Carlos added, "Anything but briefs. Also, I hate red."     

Bummer. His response was like a wet blanket. It was the red briefs that she was considering buying him. With her plan ruined, Debbie pouted sullenly. "OK, I got it," she said.     

Then she went back and wandered from section to section until she saw a pair of black boxers. Briefly, she picked it up and looked at Carlos who was quietly seated on the sofa. 'Not good enough for him.' She pursed her lips and put it down.     

Next, she picked up a gray pair, looked at the man, and shook her head again. 'Not good enough either.'     

On careful observation of how Carlos and Debbie communicated, the shop assistants all wondered who the girl was. One of them was so curious she couldn't help asking Debbie, "What's your relationship with Mr. Huo?"     

Debbie gave her a friendly smile and lowering her voice almost to a whisper, said, "Why don't you ask him?"     

Hands down, that scored the clincher for Debbie. The shop assistant was reduced to silence. 'If I could ask Mr. Huo, I wouldn't have bothered you, madam, ' she thought sourly.     

After a long time of wandering and comparison, finally, Debbie settled on three pairs of boxers which came at a good ten thousand dollars each. Standing at the cashier's desk, she winced at the price. Coming into the shop, she had not expected she'd end up spending such a ridiculous sum on a mere three goddamn boxers. 'What are these things made of? Gold?'     

The shop assistants had recommended those boxers, claiming that the designer had several international accolades to his name. Even so, Debbie wouldn't have spent so much on them if Carlos hadn't been insisting on her buying him boxers.     

After settling the bill, she came to Carlos with the bag. Without a word, he put down the catalog and stood up, looking pleased. He took the bag from Debbie with one hand and held her hand with the other. Together, they walked off to their car, arm in arm. A peaceful couple together.     

Following after Carlos, Debbie asked, "Why did you ask me to buy these for you? How did you buy underwear before?"     

"I used to have them delivered to the villa or send my secretaries. Now, since I have a wife, naturally I should leave this kind of thing to her."     

Not in the mood for his endless witty banter, Debbie didn't say a word in return. Anyway, how was she supposed to respond to that?     

Just as they were about to enter the elevator, they noticed a commotion in front of a shop. Intuitively, they both stopped and turned to see what was happening in the clamoring crowd.     

A young couple were seen arguing with a cleaning lady, who was in tears.     

The argument must have been going on for a while, but what irritated Debbie was that no one had cared enough to intervene.         

"Let me check what's up with the group. I'll catch up with you later if you don't mind." She let go of his hand, and headed towards the ruckus.     

As she approached, their voices became clearer. "I'm very sorry. I didn't do it intentionally." The cleaning lady kept apologizing, weeping.     

"What's going on here?" Debbie asked, standing in front of the young couple with her hands in the pockets of her coat.     

The young man looked at her curtly and demanded, "Who the hell are you?"     

"It doesn't matter who I am. Just tell me what this is about," she replied nonchalantly.     

The cleaning lady sobbed, "Miss, I accidentally dirtied his shoes with a wet mop while I was cleaning."     

"Dirtied? Look at what you did. My shoes are all wet. What if they start peeling? Can you even afford the compensation?" the young man demanded angrily.     

Hearing compensation mentioned, the cleaning lady took two steps backward with fear and apologized again. "I'm sorry, son. I didn't see you. I'll...I'll wipe them clean for you right now."     

The young man snorted contemptuously, "Wipe? Are you deaf? You soaked my shoes and ruined the leather. What's the point of wiping?"     

Debbie stepped in front of the cleaning lady protectively and raised her head to face the young man. "She already apologized, but you still think it's not enough. What do you want?"     

"What do I want? What do you think? Since my shoes are ruined, I have to get new ones. She should pay for them of course." "How much are your shoes?" Debbie asked with a sneer.     

"Eight hundred and thirty dollars!" the young man answered proudly with his nose in the air as if it were such a moment of glory to flaunt the price. "I'm not leaving this place without the amount."     

He glanced sideways at the cleaning lady, expecting to see her scared face. Indeed, the cleaning lady got flustered at the price.     

But Debbie was amused by the stupid look on the young man's face. "I'll pay for her," she declared.     

Shocked by what Debbie had said, the cleaning lady pulled her sleeve and said, "Miss, you don't have anything to do with this. I can't let you do this."     

Debbie turned to look at her and smiled, "It's okay. Don't worry."     

With the card Carlos had given her, a paltry eight hundred and thirty dollars was not a problem, but it was a lot for a cleaning lady who made only two or three thousand a month.     

The members of the martial arts club at her university had submitted membership fees the day before. It happened that she was carrying some of the cash on her. Without hesitation, she decided to use it to help the lady out. There was an ATM around, from which she'd withdraw the same amount to reimburse the club.     

With that thought, she took eight hundred and fifty from her purse and handed it to the brat. "Here, you have it. Keep the change."     

The young man felt embarrassed, but took the money all the same.     

He grabbed his girlfriend's hand and was ready to leave.     

"Not so fast!" Debbie said calmly as she closed her purse.     

The young couple looked back, puzzled.     

Debbie pointed at the man's shoe and said, "I paid the price. Shouldn't the shoe you're wearing be mine now? You may go, but leave the shoe."     

The young man's face turned livid, but he couldn't figure out a line to retort, because what she had said was right. The onlookers started whispering and exchanging surprised glances at the unfolding drama. Left with no choice, the man took his shoes off and tossed them on the floor.         

The sight of the worn shoes sickened Debbie. She held one shoe by the laces between her thumb and index finger, and threw it in the air. Lifting her right leg, she kicked the stinky shoe into the green bin at the cleaning lady's side.     

After she had done the same with the other, the crowd clapped at her uprightness and cool moves.     

After the couple fled the scene with embarrassment, the cleaning lady thanked Debbie in tears. Since the matter was settled, Debbie turned around and left. Behind her the cleaning lady's emotional words and the crowd's clapping filled the air.     

Debbie had thought Carlos had left, but there he was, waiting for her not far from the crowd, in sunglasses, with hands in his trouser pockets.     

Apologetically, she trotted to him. "I thought you had left," she said, feeling like a young girl again. A very different feeling from the forceful woman she had been while confronting the little brat.     

Carlos opened his arms and received her with an embrace. "I wouldn't have been able to see my wife's heroic acts if I had left. That would be a pity. I feel so honored to have you in my life."     

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