“Relax, Kiki. It’s not unusual for them to ask questions,” Kiko pointed out, a little more firmly. “They did it to me naman din.”
She knew Kiko was saying that to commiserate with her, but it wasn’t exactly the same, was it?
It didn’t matter that she made so much chocolate she dreamed about it; didn’t matter that she loved being able to personally talk to each and every one of her customers, or that her matchmaking clients crossed over to buying her chocolate every time. Basta, she wasn’t getting that ROI back, therefore she wasn’t doing well. She wasenjoyingherself in her business, so she was definitely doing something wrong. Kira narrowed her eyes at Kamilla’s perfect calm, at Kiko’s serious expression and her mother’s sudden inability to look at her.
“Oh my god,” she said, nearly dropping her fork. “Is this...an intervention? Are you all trying to intervent me?”
The look on each of her family members’ faces was more than enough. Even Harry, who usually tried to keep away from Luz family drama, was suddenly very focused on his food. Nobody even bothered to correct her.
“Oh my god!” Kira hissed, leaning forward. “Thisisan intervention!”
“We’re worried about you,” Kiko said, because he was the only one she could still listen to when things were escalating. “Running Gemini hasn’t been easy for you, obviously, but—”
“The way we see it, there are two ways to go about fixing your ROI problem,” Kamilla added, and Kira could not believe this. She hated this, the concerned looks on her family’s faces, because it seemed that she couldn’t be trusted to run her own business. And because Fire and Earth signs were solutions-oriented folk, she was going to be handed the solutions without her asking for them. “One, you can find a way to decrease your cost to produce the chocolate.”
“Decreasing costs means lowering quality,” Kira pointed out, seeing right through the business doublespeak, ha! “I can’t do that. People like my chocolate the way it is.” Because she could be stubborn too, if she needed it.
“Fine, then you’ll have to do the other thing,” Ate Kamilla continued. “More sales. Alotmore sales. You have regulars and occasional custom orders, but you’re going to have to do more.”
“And matchmaking isn’t a marketing strategy,” Kiko said.
That was the second time in five days someone had told her that. Was that actual, real-world advice that people got?
“Um, the three custom wedding orders I booked this month, all for couples I matched, would like to disagree,” Kira said, her cheeks heating. “I can make things special for these clients because I know them.Andlest we forget, my matchmaking has also led to Kuya Kiko and Kuya Jake getting together,andAlfred and Mikaela.”
The family all peeked at the couple, who currently seemed too preoccupied with gazing into each other’s eyes to notice. Kira sighed and stabbed her melon and ham. Sure, her custom orders were great, but they were sporadic, and clearly not constant enough for her to keep up.
“I don’t think we were denying that, Kira,” Kuya Jake said gently, breaking the impasse. Kira didn’t know what expression she was wearing, but Jake must have seen something, because he immediately backed off. “Oh my god, babe, take over, I can’t, she’s like my little sister.”
“Sheismy little sister,” Kuya Kiko pointed out. “Kiki, you know we’re just worried about you.”
Kira believed that. She really did. Because that was what her family did, they worried about each other, broke things gently to each other, helped each other out. But this...this was so personal to Kira, it felt like someone was trying to invade her space. Take away something that she built herself.
She took in a deep, shuddering breath and held it in, waiting patiently for her heart to unclench before she slowly released it. Yoga breathing really did help.
“Thank you, all of you, for your concern,” she said slowly, and it was almost satisfying to see the surprise on her father’s face. “And all of this has been duly noted. I have a month pa naman to figure out what I’m going to do, and I am not going to that board meeting without a plan.”
“Good.” Ate Kamilla nodded. “And you can ask us if you need help.”
She knew that. Knew that very well, if this dinner was any indication. Her parents were willing to spend way too much on family dinner just to get Kira to accept the fact that she needed to dosomethingabout Gemini. It was sweet, and overbearing at the same time.
But the con to asking for help from her parents or her siblings was having to explain herself to them. None of themquiteunderstood what Kira was doing in the first place. Kiko and Kamilla were great at building things, making things happen, her parents were good at keeping things practical. But still, Kira couldn’t make them understand why it was important that she acquire so much machinery, why her operations stopped when her melangers stopped. Why she had to import beans from Mindanao. Why she felt alone a lot of the time, and why she felt just a little lost.
As the youngest, with a thirteen-year age gap between her and Ate Kamilla, Kira was used to being the last in everything. The last to know the chika, the last to know what the family’s plans were. She was used to falling behind to her parents, who ran their businesses with nary a hitch, and her siblings, who fell so naturally into professional jobs. Their lives followed an obvious, straightforward line. And Kira was happy for them.
But it comforted her that her being left behind was just because she was younger. Surely she wouldn’t be left behind, in the outside world, where everyone was her age and going through pretty much the same things. But the older she got, the more she realized that it wasn’t true. People her age were getting married, having kids, settling into lifetime careers where they turned from awkward underlings to the ones people relied on.
And suddenly Kira was left behind again.
Universe, if you have a plan, I’d really like to know,Kira thought, resisting the urge to look up at the ceiling.I could use some help.
“Have I showed you my favorite newborn calf?” Alice Luz asked the table suddenly, whipping out her phone and holding up a photo of the sweetest-looking baby cow, with a perfect star on her forehead. Nothing like a picture of a baby cow to break the tension, for which Kira was eternally grateful. “They named her Ning, for Bituing Walang Ningning.”
“What does that mean?” Harry, Kamilla’s husband, whispered beside her.
“A star without the kumukutikutitap,” Kira said with a straight face, making Kiko nearly spit out his wine.
“That’s a sad name for a cow to live up to,” her father commented at the head of the table, and Kira saw him squeezing his wife’s hand, and her heart wrenched. They must have hated that as much as she did. “They couldn’t have named her Shawie, or Cherie?”
