Everyone thought Stephanie had no clue what was going on between Carlos and Debbie, but Stephanie was no fool. Successful men like Carlos usually took a mistress, sometimes more than one. But a mistress was one thing. She didn't care about that, as long as she would be Mrs. Huo someday.
The waiter's words made her realize how wrong she was.
'I'll kill that bitch! Carlos is mine! No one else deserves a woman like me!' Stephanie vowed to herself.
Before everyone was finished eating, Carlos and Debbie left the private booth earlier than the other guests. His excuse was that he would drive her home.
Elmer was the last one to leave. He had to settle the bill.
Sitting in his seat, he wept when he saw the total—12 million. But it was too late to weasel out of it. Besides, if he refused to pay, Carlos would be offended. Given the choice of angering Carlos or paying a ton of cash, he chose the latter. So Elmer paid the bill with his credit card, still weeping.
He wiped his eyes after the cashier swiped his card. He learned two things tonight: Don't mess with Debbie. Don't take advantage of her, or Carlos would take his revenge in spades.
Debbie missed Piggy, but she was too tired to see her. And she had to get up at 5 a.m. for a photo shoot. The commercial was important, so she asked Carlos to take her back to Champs Bay Apartments.
When she got out of the car, Carlos handed her a file envelope.
"What's this?" she asked.
"Open it when you get home," Carlos replied.
She took the envelope and was about to walk toward the elevator when she remembered something. James had been laying low lately. He was quiet, too quiet. "Did you do that background check on James?" she asked.
"Yeah. Don't worry. I'll handle him," Carlos said.
"Can I ask you something?" she queried.
Carlos stepped out of the car and stood close to her. "Sounds like you can't get enough of me. How about we take this inside?"
"Ooh, no, no. Here is fine," Debbie said hastily with a stilted smile.
"Fair enough. You had a question?" Carlos leaned against the car, looking at her.
Debbie hesitated, then finally told him. "If I sue James, will you hate me?"
"What do you think?" he asked, raising a brow.
Debbie didn't know, actually. That was why she asked. "Please don't be mad. He's not your real dad. That's why I won't feel guilty." He was the man she loved. She'd hate to see his father in court.
Carlos caressed her hair. "You know about my relationship with Aunt Miranda."
That was not a question.
Debbie nodded. "You know too? How? Getting your memory back?"
"No, I found out."
"Oh." She sounded disappointed. 'Why isn't his amnesia gone?' "Your grandpa told you Wade and Miranda were your real parents on his deathbed. Then you told me."
"I see," he uttered.
"What about Lewis? I haven't seen him in forever. Where's he been?" she asked curiously.
"My grandma sent him to Italy." Valerie was afraid Lewis would make trouble again, so she sent him far away.
"Oh, okay." She understood. "Don't you still have work to do? Go. We'll talk another time about changing my daughter's last name."
Still leaning against the car, Carlos bent one knee and tucked his hands into his pockets. He looked interested. "Oh? What do you intend to do about it?"
Suddenly, Debbie walked up to him, pressed herself against him, and looked him in the eye. "Carlos, I told you I could make you fall in love with me again, and I did. I can't forgive you for how you treated me after you lost your memory. We'll settle that account when you're better."
The look in his eyes dimmed. "So, you aren't going to divorce Ivan?"
Debbie was left speechless. 'Why did he bring up Ivan? What does he have to do with anything?' Carlos lifted her chin and looked at her intensely.
"I hate how I treated you, though my memory's still a mess. If I apologize, would you forgive me? Would you marry me again?"
"Huh! You wish! Stop it." Debbie pried his hands off before she was bewitched by his beautiful eyes.
Carlos was surprised by her reaction.
"Just marry your fiancee. I have Ivan. You and I can both take care of Piggy. Sounds like a plan," she said casually.
"But Ivan doesn't love you."
"You don't love me either. So give me one good reason why I should divorce him."
"Who says I don't love you?"
"Did you ever say it to me?"
Carlos didn't know how to answer that one. To him, words were cheap. It was how you acted that mattered. He thought she'd see it in what he did for her, that she understood him.
"You haven't even broken it off with Stephanie yet. Can you blame me for not divorcing Ivan?" Debbie thought it was unfair. But maybe he couldn't even see it. 'Maybe men are all selfish.'
"I was going to do it tonight, but using me at dinner derailed those plans."
He was telling the truth. He was going to tell Stephanie he couldn't marry her.
He would have waited for her at Champs Bay Apartments until she came back from her dinner party.
But Debbie called him before that to borrow his private booth.
When he learned it was a dinner for Elmer, he decided to attend and teach Elmer a lesson. No one could bully his woman.
"I didn't use you. You decided to go there yourself," she denied stubbornly.
"That part was true. But how about the booth? Why did it have to be my private booth? Didn't you use me to get back at Stephanie?"
Debbie gave an embarrassed smile. "You knew?"
"Almost immediately after you hung up, Stephanie called right after you did. You heard her plans, and decided to beat her to the punch. Am I right?" Carlos asked.
'He's good, ' Debbie thought. But still she didn't want to admit she did anything wrong. "Yeah. So? You feel bad for her?"
Carlos hugged her and kissed her forehead. "Yes, I feel bad. I feel bad for you."
"Huh? Why?" Debbie didn't understand. She won. Why did Carlos feel bad for her?
Caressing her cheek, Carlos said, "But I'm also happy. You did all that for me." He knew that Debbie only did it to keep Stephanie away from him.
She cared. So even though she tricked him, he wasn't mad. On the contrary, he felt quite happy.
"Such an egomaniac," Debbie commented.
Carlos didn't drive off until he watched her enter the elevator.
Once she was back in her apartment, Debbie opened the file envelope curiously. Inside was a red certificate.
On its cover, it said, "Property Ownership Certificate."
