Part 6

The moment Percy sat down, the scent of his expensive cologne—a subtle mix of sandalwood and something distinctly masculine—mingled with the aroma of garlic rice and simmering broth from the kitchen. It was a clash of two different worlds, right there at their small wooden table. For a moment, Celle felt a fresh wave of panic. Was this a mistake?

"So," Percy began, leaning back slightly in his chair. The chair, which had probably seated hundreds of customers, suddenly looked too small and fragile for him. "I have to admit, this is not what I expected."

"And what exactly were you expecting, Mr. Montefalco?" Celle asked, her voice steadier than she felt. She clasped her hands on her lap to keep them from fidgeting.

"Something... shinier," he admitted, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "With more glass and less... charm." His eyes swept over the mismatched picture frames on the wall and the woven *buli* placemats on their table. He didn't look disgusted, as she had half-feared. He looked... curious.

"This is my charm," Celle stated simply.

"And please, it's Percy. We're settling a debt, not closing a merger."

"Alright... Percy," she tested the name. It felt strange, too intimate. "And you can call me Celle."

A waitress, a cheerful woman in her late 40s with a 'Tita Glo' name tag, came to their table.

"Good evening, Ma'am and Sir! Welcome sa Lola Cely's! Alam niyo na po ba ang o-orderin niyo?"

Celle gave her a warm smile.

"Tita Glo, magandang gabi po. Yung dati pa rin po. At isang extra rice." She then turned to Percy. "Have you had proper Filipino food before? Or is your palate too accustomed to Michelin stars?"

The challenge was subtle, but it was there. Percy met her gaze, his eyes glinting. "I've had my fair share. Surprise me."

"Okay," Celle said to the waitress. "Bigyan niyo po kami ng isang bowl ng paborito ko—Sinigang na Baboy. Yung maasim na maasim po, Tita. Tapos, Crispy Pata and a platter of plain rice."

"Naku, paborito rin 'yan ng boss namin!" Tita Glo chirped. "Sige, sige, ipapaluto ko agad."

As the waitress walked away, Percy raised an eyebrow.

"Sinigang. You seem to be a fan of sour things."

"It's an acquired taste," Celle retorted. "It's honest. What you see is what you get. It doesn't pretend to be sweet." The words hung in the air, a clear metaphor for her own intentions.

Their food arrived surprisingly fast. The Crispy Pata was a glorious, golden-brown mountain of crackling skin and tender meat. But it was the Sinigang that stole the show. It was served in a simple clay pot, steam rising from the sour, tamarind-based broth filled with tender pork ribs, kangkong, and r****h.

Celle expertly served Percy a bowl, pouring a generous amount of soup over his rice. He watched her every move, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a quiet observation.

He took his first spoonful of the soup. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and he paused for a second before taking another sip.

"Well?" Celle prompted, unable to hide her anticipation.

"It's..." he searched for the word. "Assertive." He looked at her. "Just like you."

Celle felt a blush creep up her neck and quickly focused on her own food. They ate in a comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the restaurant filling the space between them. It was different from the loud, forced chatter of the K-BBQ place. This was calm. Grounded.

"So, about the terms of our settlement," Percy said, breaking the silence. He dabbed his lips with a napkin. "You chose the place. Now, what's your price?"

Here it was. The real reason they were here. Celle put her utensils down and looked him straight in the eye.

"It's not about money, Percy. I can't, in good conscience accept ten thousand dollars for a dress, no matter how expensive it was."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want you to listen," she said firmly. "Alcantara Holdings is planning to develop a luxury condominium in the place where my community's market stands. Ang 'Palengke ng Nayon'."

Percy's expression shifted. The amusement was gone, replaced by the sharp, calculating look of a CEO. "I'm aware of the project. It's a prime piece of real estate."

"It's a prime piece of our lives," Celle countered, her voice laced with passion.

"That market has been there for over fifty years. It's where my lola, Lola Cely—the owner of this restaurant—first set up her stall. It's the livelihood of hundreds of families. You can't just tear it down for another soulless glass building."

Percy leaned forward, his voice dropping low. "It's not my decision alone, Celle. It's the board's. The numbers make sense. That area is underdeveloped."

"Underdeveloped for who? For people like you?" She shot back, her voice rising slightly.

"For us, it's everything. My term is this: I will personally show you what that community is. I want you to walk through that market, meet the vendors, and eat at my lola's 'karinderya'. After that, if you can still look me in the eye and say that a condo is more important than their lives, then my debt is paid. I'll walk away and you'll never hear from me again."

Percy was silent, his jaw tight. He stared at her, and for the first time, Celle saw a flicker of something she couldn't quite name in his eyes. It wasn't pity. It was something closer to conflict.

"That's a very unusual... and a very public... business proposal, Ms. Cruz."

"It's not a business proposal," Celle said softly. "It's a human one. Those are my terms."

The air between them was thick with tension. The joyful noise of the restaurant seemed to fade into a distant buzz. Percy's phone vibrated on the table, the screen lighting up with a name. He glanced at it and ignored it, his gaze locked on Celle.

Finally, he spoke, his voice a low, decisive hum that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Fine. I agree to your terms." He extended his hand across the table. "I'll visit your market. But on one condition."

Celle eyed his outstretched hand warily. "What condition?"

A slow, calculating smile returned to his face, a smile that was all business, and all Montefalco.

"You will be my personal guide. And for the entire duration of this 'settlement,' you will be exclusively available to me."