CHAPTER 3

Traizle

The faint aroma of frying dough hovered in the air, warm and familiar, as I wiped my hands on my apron and approached the counter. Through the glass windows, the late-afternoon light spilled into the snack bar in long, golden lines, turning the interior soft and hazy.

“Do we have any orders to be delivered?” I asked the owner, trying to sound casual, though I was silently hoping for more deliveries. I’d already finished three. More orders meant more earnings. And I needed that now more than ever.

She shook her head, adjusting her glasses as she checked the receipt pad.

“None for now. Kelvin already went out to deliver the last one.” she said.

I swallowed my disappointment. Well, that was that. My phone vibrated loudly in my pocket, startling me. Before I could answer, the small doorbell above the entrance chimed, announcing someone's arrival. I glanced at the caller ID which is Lyndon.

But before I could speak, a deep male voice cut in from the entrance, as if his arrival and his words were coordinated by fate itself.

“I’m Zarsuelo,” he said with a clipped tone. “The man who tried to order but was misled by someone. And I wasn’t even given an explanation before the call was ended abruptly.”

My head snapped up. He came here? Because I hung up on him?

Without thinking, the words slipped from my lips. “I am the someone you’re talking to.”

His eyes widened as he fully faced me, dark irises sharp, recognizing me instantly.

“You—you’re the woman from the restaurant this morning,” He pointed at me accusingly. “But yeah, I tried to order earlier and you just hung up, saying I was doing a prank?”

His tone carried a hint of indignation, which only irritated me more. How dare he? After what he pulled last night?

“Yes, you are,” I replied, meeting his gaze without flinching.

“Why would you think I was pranking you?” he demanded, arms crossing firmly over his chest.

I raised an eyebrow. “Do you really not know?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be standing here like this.” he fired back.

The owner glanced between us, clearly confused, but I couldn’t soften anything yet. Not with him here. Not after what happened last night.

I took a breath, anger simmering beneath my ribs. “Last night,” I began, voice tight, “You called and ordered almost a hundred people’s worth of food. I went to the place you told me to and waited almost an hour. But I couldn’t reach you. You never showed up. I lost a lot of money because of you. Asshole.”

He smiled.

The asshole actually smiled as he scratched the back of his neck.

“I can admit that was really my fault last night,” he said, oddly sincere. “I’m not an asshole, something urgent came up, and I had to deal with it. And after that, I forgot I ordered anything.”

Forgot. He forgot. As if forgetting magically returned my wasted money.

My hand twitched. I could almost imagine punching him. Before I could retort, my phone rang again, a call coming from Lyndon.

I turned away from the jerk and answered. “Why?”

“I heard the conversation earlier,” Lyndon said immediately. “The guy from last night really went there? Don’t punch him or do anything reckless, okay?” he warned me.

I snorted. “Of course I won’t. Why are you calling?” I answered.

“I wanted to ask what time you’re coming home. Layzen keeps asking because he wants to wait for you.” he asked.

“Tell him not to. Just sleep without me. Make sure the door’s locked.” I replied.

Suddenly, a smaller voice chimed through the speaker. “Why can’t I wait for you? I want to know what staying late feels like and eating midnight snacks.”

“In short, he’s jealous.” Lyndon teasing Layzen.

“You have class tomorrow, Layzen. We’ll do that on Friday.” I promised gently.

“Why can Lyndon sleep late but I can’t? He also has a class tomorrow.” Layzen complained.

“Because I’m an adult,” Lyndon said proudly. “You’re still a baby.”

“I’m not a baby anymore!” Layzen protested, voice cracking in outrage. “I’m four already and studying! Babies can’t do that!”

“You are, when it comes to us.” Lyndon replied, earning himself an instant tantrum on the other end.

“Lyndon, stop annoying him. If he cries, you’re dead later,” I warned. “Both of you sleep without me. I’m ending this call.”

I hung up before they could say more. I was about to return to the counter when the asshole stepped in front of me again, blocking my path. Tall, stubborn and annoyingly composed jerk.

“You know how to tell someone when you’re ending a call,” he said, pretending to sound wounded. “Yet you hung up on me without a word.”

I arched my eyebrow at him, the gesture sharp enough to slice through his confidence. “Were you listening to our conversation?” I asked sharply. “Don’t you think that’s nosy?”

“Yes,” he said with an infuriating smile. “And yes. I’m curious about you. I told you I saw you this morning at the restaurant. All the drama too.”

“And so?” I said flatly.

He pouted. Actually pouted. “Can you be nice for once? It’s unfair. I’m treating you nicely but you’re not doing the same.”

“Am I supposed to entertain you? I’m a courier, not a performer.”

“Is it because of last night?” he asked quietly.

“If it is, can you do something about it?” I shot back.

He clapped his hands once excitedly, childlike. “Of course. And actually, I did something already,” His eyes flicked toward the entrance. “Perfect timing.”

The doorbell chimed again.

A group of people streamed into the snack bar, dressed sharply in formal suits. They bowed slightly toward him as they passed, acknowledging him with respect. I stared at him, bewildered, while he stood beside me grinning like an idiot.

“Stop staring,” he said smugly. “I might melt. I know I’m handsome.”

“Did you ask them to come here?”

“Yes,” He nodded proudly. “The owner told me you lost money last night. That was my fault. So, I ordered again for them. And this time nothing interrupted me. I didn’t forget either. This is my way of apologizing,”

He tilted his head. “So, are we good now?”

They say money can’t buy happiness.

But right now, mine absolutely did.

“Thank you.” I murmured, a small smile slipping out.

“That expression,” he said suddenly, leaning a little closer, "That’s the same one you had after fixing the trouble at the restaurant this morning. You change depending on the person you’re dealing with. When you delivered our food earlier, you were smiling warm and thoughtful.”

My eyes widened. “Were you observing me?”

He shook his hands defensively. “No, no. Not in a weird way. It’s just what happened earlier kind of made you the center of attention. We couldn’t continue our conversation because of the noise. We ended up watching instead,” He grinned. “You were cool. We even nodded along with your statements. I clapped after your comeback.”

He’s weird. Absolutely weird.

“It’s my job. I know how to handle situations like that.” I replied.

“By the way, do you really have two jobs?” he asked. “At the restaurant and here?”

I nodded. “Yes. Why?”

“Nothing. I just think it’s cool.”

Cool.

Most people reacted with pity or judgment. But he said it with pure admiration, as if it made me impressive instead of pitiful.

Something warm unfolded inside my chest. A strange, unfamiliar feeling.

Maybe... maybe he wasn’t an asshole after all.