Chapter 7

Jarima frowned furiously at her screen.

Jarima: Anong big day?

No reply came. Rafa left her on read, leaving her staring at her phone in pure, agonizing frustration. Eventually, Jarima just shrugged it off her head.

Few days had passed since the bank call mistake, the humid Manila sun beat down relentlessly on the concrete jungle of Ortigas.

Tahimik na ang buhay ni Jarima mula sa ingay ng presidente, but not Federico who was trying to help Jarima about her freelancing job. From time to time, nag-uusap pa rin ang dalawa sa text message, nagpapalitan ng good morning, good night at ilang pick up lines. Yet, she never had the chance to explain what happened in the residence of the president dahil hindi naman na sila nagkikita pa ulit. Federico is a busy person.

By 10 am, Jarima was sitting in the corner of a quiet co-working space, her noise-canceling headphones resting around her neck. She was desperately trying to focus on editing a vector illustration of a floating pasta bowl for a client, trying her absolute best to drown out the memory of executive orders.

Her laptop screen suddenly flickered as a bright red notification popped up in the upper right corner of her display.

Official Subject: INVITATION FOR CONTRACTUAL GRAPHIC DESIGN SERVICES - OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT.

Jarima almost choked on her iced green tea, letting out a sharp cough na nagpalingon sa ibang mga freelancer sa paligid. "Sorry po!" she whispered frantically before opening the official document.

It was a highly lucrative project brief from the Communications Department of Malacañang. They were requesting an independent lead designer for the upcoming National Youth Economic Summit branding, a project with a payout that could easily cover her rent for the next six months.

"Ito ba 'yong tinutukoy na big day ni Rafa?" tanong niya sa kaniyang sarili habang mabilis na ini-scan ang laman ng email.

At the very bottom of the email, the primary point of contact was listed in bold letters:

Lead Project Supervisor: Federico Davino, Senior Presidential Advisor.

Jarima’s mouth hung open in absolute shock. Federico had set this up. Despite the heavy drama that happened in the residence, despite the cold tension in the study, he had still pushed her portfolio through to the communications team to give her a massive career breakthrough.

Her heart melted into a puddle of pure guilt and immense gratitude.

Before she could even hit reply, her phone on the desk began to buzz. It was Federico.

Jarima answered immediately, pressing the phone against her ear. "Federico! 'Yung email—"

"Jarima," Federico’s voice came through, steady, warm, but distinctly professional. "I assume you received the project brief?"

"Federico, bakit... bakit ginawa mo 'to?" Jarima asked softly, her voice trembling slightly. "After what happened in the office of the presi—"

"Business is business, Jarima," Federico quoted her own landlord's phrase, a subtle, endearing chuckle breaking through his formal tone. "You're a brilliant artist. You deserve the contract, regardless of... whatever misunderstanding happened in the President's study."

"Federico, tungkol doon sa nangyari, gusto ko talagang magpaliwanag—"

"You don't have to explain anything to me over the phone," Federico interrupted gently, though a quiet layer of firmness underscored his words. "I'm actually at the coffee shop. I brought the physical contract for your signature. Can we talk?"

Jarima let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "Sure! Just send me the address, pupunta ako."

Five minutes later, Jarima pushed open the glass doors of the neighborhood cafe, the cooling scent of freshly ground espresso beans immediately greeting her.

Federico was sitting at a quiet corner table, looking incredibly handsome in a sharp navy blazer, a leather-bound folder open in front of him. When he saw her, his tense facial features instantly relaxed into that same comforting smile na nagpalambot sa puso ng dalaga.

"Hey," Federico said warmly, standing up to pull out a chair for her. "It's been a while."

"Hey," Jarima replied shyly, taking a seat across from him.

Federico slid the official contract toward her, along with a fresh iced latte. "Everything is outlined there. The budget, the timeline, and your creative freedom. The President personally approved the budget allocation this morning."

Jarima froze, her pen hovering an inch above the paper. "Si... si Rafa ang nag-approve?"

"Mr. President," Federico gently corrected her, his eyes searching hers with a quiet, intense seriousness. "And yes. He reviewed your portfolio himself."

Jarima swallowed hard, her mind spinning wildly. Rafa approved it? Was this his way of playing with her again?

"Federico, I really want to clarify kung anong nangyari sa residence," Jarima insisted, leaning forward and unconsciously placing her hand over his on the table. "I honestly offered him something, thank you-pastries, gano'n pero he insisted na pumunta ako sa kaniya. Nag-thank you lang din naman talaga ako. Kasi kung hindi dahil sa inyo, baka nasa ilog Pasig na talaga ako."

Federico looked down at her hand resting on his. His thumb lightly brushed against her knuckles—a tender, quiet gesture na nagpadala ng init sa buong katawan ni Jarima. Agad namang binawi ni Jarima ang kamay nang mapagtanto iyon.

"Sorry," Jarima shyly murmured.

Awkwardness followed.

"I know Rafa," Federico whispered, breaking the silence. He looked back up into her eyes with deep sincerity. "He's my bestfriend. He's brilliant, he gets whatever he wants, and he loves a challenge. But Jarima..." Federico paused, "...I met you first. And I'm not going to step aside just because he holds the highest office in the country."

Jarima’s heart thudded violently against her ribs. "Ah eh..." she whispered, feeling her breath catch. "Ano bang ibig mong sabihin?"

Jarima was not new to this feeling. Pero hindi iyon agad kayang tanggapin ng utak niya gayong kakakilala lang naman nila.

Federico smiled. "Well, usually, nasa office lang ako madalas at hindi nakikipagkita sa babae sa labas. If it is about work, I work in my office, not in a coffee shop."

Kumunot ang noo ni Jarima. "And?"

"Do you really want me to spell it out to you?" Federico said gently.

"Federico kasi... kakikilala lang natin. And... and hindi ako sanay. Ang daming ibang babae, 'yong mas bagay sa hitsura mo. Gwapo ka... at mabait. High-profile kang tao—"

"Stop. Thank you for calling me handsome, but what do you mean, high-profile? Jarima, tao lang din naman ako. I just happened to work closely with the president."

"Iyon na nga, eh."

"Masama bang magkagusto sayo?"

"Ha?"

Federico’s eyes squinted in curiosity. "Hindi ka pa ba nagkaka-boyfriend?" tanong niya.

"Ha?" Jarima gasped. "Sinasabi mo bang pangit ako?"

"No! Of course not!" natatawang sagot ni Federico.

"Nagka-boyfriend na ko 'no... 10 years ago."

It was embarassing for Jarima. Parang dugyot pa siya noong mga panahong nagka-boyfriend siya. Lamang na lang siya ng 3 paligo ngayon mula sa sarili niya 10 years ago.

Federico smiled. "I mean, bakit kasi hindi mo ako agad ma-gets?"

"Eh ano ba kasing sinasabi mo? Bakit ba parang nakikipagkumpitensya ka kay Rafa? We met first, yes. Oh tapos? Sabi mo, you won't step aside just because he's the president—"

"I like you," Federico cut her off, reaching for her hand. "That's what I'm trying to say."

Before Federico could say another word, the clear glass windows of the coffee shop were suddenly washed in a blinding, flashing strobe of red and blue lights.

The heavy, deep rumble of multiple high-powered engines echoed outside, causing all the patrons inside the cafe to stand up in confusion.

Three blacked-out presidential SUVs accompanied by four motorcycle escorts pulled up directly onto the curb outside, completely blocking the street traffic.

The door of the cafe flew open, and two burly Presidential Security Group officers stepped inside, swiftly securing the perimeter while clearing a direct path toward Federico and Jarima's table.

The entire coffee shop fell into a dead, terrified silence.

Through the glass doors, the rear door of the central SUV opened, and Rafa stepped out into the bright afternoon sun, looking ridiculously powerful in a charcoal suit, adjusting his dark sunglasses as he walked directly into the cafe.

Rafa stepped inside, his sharp eyes scanning the room until they locked onto Federico’s hand resting tightly on top of Jarima’s.

A slow, lethal smirk touched the President's lips as he walked right up to their small table, towering over both of them with an undeniable, suffocating aura of authority.

"Good afternoon," Rafa said smoothly, his commanding baritone echoing off the quiet walls. He slowly removed his sunglasses, looking directly at Federico, then down at Jarima’s pale, frozen face. "Am I interrupting the contract signing?"

Jarima couldn't deny the striking features of the president. Now she's wondering, bakit wala siyang girlfriend?

Federico stood up slowly, facing his best friend and President with an unyielding, protective posture. "Mr. President. This is a private vendor meeting."

Rafa’s smirk widened, his eyes glinting with a dangerous, competitive fire as he rested one hand casually on the back of Jarima’s chair, leaning down until his face was dangerously close to hers.

"It was a private meeting, Senior Advisor," Rafa murmured softly, his voice dripping with absolute power. "Until I decided to personally inspect my lead designer."

Jarima almost got choked with two different reasons: Federico's sudden confession and Rafa's breath touching her neck.