He couldn’t do any of that with Hotel Villa. It had a reputation to uphold, a legacy of care that he was simply picking up and continuing. A restaurant of his own, though? Kira would think he would take every opportunity to do it from a distance.
So one could only imagine her surprise when she walked into La Spezia for the first time, and immediately thought,It’s...so warm.
The success of a restaurant in the Philippines hinged on two things: hype and ambience. Hype was made by La Spezia’s positioning—everyone was fascinated to see just how fancy it could be. Ambience was easy, and this place had a whole bayong of it. Like someone held up an Italian postcard to the space and said, “I want that, here.”
It was a testament to Kiko’s architectural (architecturing? architectable? nothing sounded right, she should ask Kiko) skill that he managed to recreate the feeling of being by the Italian Riviera, despite having never visited it himself. But Kiko insisted that the entire vision had been Santi’s. “He chose everything. I just brought it all together.”
Anton Santillan, the former boy next door. Anton Santillan, who had driven in from Manila in a flashy red Mercedes twenty years later and bought the crumbling Hotel Villa off of his relatives. Anton Santillan, who remodeled the hotel with antique furniture and all the plants in Laguna and turned it into a premier wedding destination booked solid into the next two years.
The walls were painted a soft peach, slightly unfinished to seem more rustic. Almost all the walls were flanked by arched windows with wrought iron frames that peeked out into a garden that had, of all things, a lit fountain. The one wall that didn’t have windows had arched built-in shelves, stuffed to the brim with what looked like every wine and alcohol bottle available, and would have made Dionysus proud. The ceiling was high, and the fake plants cascading down from the trellises should have looked cheap, but in the warm glow of the lights, it looked like a scene fromMamma Mia.
They still tell me that Villa’s success isn’t enough. That I am not enough to deserve coming back,Santi had told her five days ago. But as Kira stood under all that splendor, she couldn’t help but think that there must be something seriously wrong with Santi’s family, that they couldn’t see how wonderful any of this was. And this, she said with the confidence of someone who still managed to go to a place or two when she was in Manila, and knew what successful places looked like. La Spezia was it. Hotel Villa was it. How could they not see that?
“Kira!” Mikaela interrupted her thoughts, as she and Alfred finally appeared at the restaurant entryway, which had now turned into a spectacle, where Ate Kamilla was getting them a table, her mother was fussing over her father’s pants, the other Luzes were browsing the menu, and now Alfred and Mikaela. “You’re here, good! Alfred and I requested a table near your...”
“My family,” Kira said apologetically as the rest of her family turned and waved. “You are now officially chaperoned by the Luzes, congratulations.”
“Oh, that’s good!” Mikaela exclaimed. “Um, good evening, po.”
“Good evening Mikaela, where is your date?” Kira’s father asked.
“Mikaela, I actually had something to ask about the capital gains tax on the—” Kiko began, but Kira leaned to block Kiko’s view, and shushed her older brother.
“Kuya, it’s a weekend. Call her on Monday if you really have a boner to pick with her.”
“Awhatnow?”
It took some time for their little mishmash party to arrange themselves into seats—the Luzes occupying a long table for nine in the middle of the restaurant, while Alfred and Mikaela were in a booth directly under one of the arched windows that looked out into a garden with the fountain. Close enough for everyone to keep an eye on them, but far enough that they could still have privacy.
Once Mikaela and Alfred were settled, and they discussed their signals in case of emergency, Kira felt herself relax and ease into the experience. She released a slow breath as she dipped a bit of her focaccia bread in olive oil, balsamic vinegar and crushed garlic. The bread and the olive oil just went perfectly together, with that acidic tang from the vinegar that made it addicting. As if it was made for her.
She didn’t really know Santi at all, did she? She understood him, knew a little about that pain behind his eyes, knew he would make good on his promises just on sheer force of will. But this was a piece of him that she hadn’t expected. Just like that kiss, just like that look in his eyes whenever he talked about things he liked. She didn’t know him. And there were very few things Kira admitted to not knowing.
So maybe she should do something about it. Like call him and ask what he wanted. Because it was becoming increasingly clear to her that she 1) was maybe tired of waiting for love and 2) she also maybe liked him as more than a business consult/childhood friend. And all she had to do was ask, and she would find out which outcome she was going to get—her teleserye happily ever after, or not? She would prefer to have one over the other, and admitting it to herself was terrifying.
“Now that we have that in order,” Raymond Luz began, as Kira munched on her antipasto plate. It had parma ham from an artisanal maker in Laguna, sliced melons from Blossoms Farm, a mound of soft and stretchy mozzarella from Luz Creamery, sprigs of arugula and fresh tomatoes that they grew on the Villa property, and the most perfectly toasted bread Kira had ever had, made in-house. “Let’s talk about the Luz meeting. It’s happening at the end of next month.”
Crap. Kira had forgotten that they had come to talk about this. Serious face, serious face.
“Chika on the group chat is that Tito Nico’s eldest, Uno, is joining,” Alice Luz said. “He’s the cousin that graduated Wharton and worked for those fancy finance firms in Tektite.”
“MVP graduated Wharton, too,” Kuya Kiko pointed out as he finished dispensing his tomatoes onto his boyfriend Jake’s plate, and Jake gave up his melons. It was very domestic and cute.
“I think what he’s trying to ask,” Jake said, “is why that’s important, Dad?”
“Uno asked to add an item to the agenda,” Raymond said darkly, or as dark as a man could look enjoying a candied fig and balsamic salad with burrata. “A third-year review of Gemini Chocolates.”
Cue silence. Kira suddenly felt the eyes of every person in the restaurant on her, even as she was mid-chew of her parma ham and melon. By the time she finally finished swallowing, her food tasted like ash in her mouth.
“What!” she exclaimed a little sharply.“Why?”
Her immediate reaction wasNo. Fuck no!She wanted to wrap her arms around her business, barricade herself to her shop door and snarl.
“Because your business plan predicted you would make back your capital expenses by now,” her father explained, calm as ever.
“Yes, but I didn’t expect that I needed to buy the tempering machine to keep up with the demand! Plus, getting my beans from Davao and South Cotabato entails shipping cost that I had only guesstimated,” Kira argued. “And isn’t the point of an estimate just that? Toestimatethings?”
“Yes, but it’s a new year, and anyone in the family has the right to bring it up if they want, and Uno in particular wants to do it,” Kamilla argued, and Kira wanted to tell her sister that she wasn’t helping, but really, she was making an excellent point. Because that was the way the family’s democracy worked. “You borrowed that money from Luz Holdings. And my guess is, Kuya Uno wants to put his experience to good use for the family, and wants to use Gemini to look good.”
